Perspective

While on the drive home from school this evening I was thinking of all the witty things to say about much the drive sucked. I was going to talk about the horrible traffic, the less than ideal rain/rain-snow/snow, the fog...you get the idea.

Then it hit me: the traffic was so bad because of a horrific car accident. Here I am complaining my butt off about how I had to sit in bumper to bumper traffic. But I wasn't on my way to a hospital. It wasn't me who was fighting for my life. Even more, it wasn't someone I loved. I am so, so thankful for that.

How selfish can I be, whining about having to spend 20 extra minutes in my heated car? How about the police officers that were directing traffic and cleaning up in the 34 degree rain? How were they feeling? I'd be willing to be they'd rather be in my car.

It's times like these that make me sad to realize just how desensitized I've become. It took me quite a while on the way home to realize how awful I was acting. If that had been my car that had been smushed I'd like to think people would care more about me than the extra time in their commute. But maybe that's asking too much.

I don't know, it just seems as if we don't feel like we should anymore. We think with our heads more than we feel with our hearts...

Sometimes It Just Hits You

I make it no secret, my love of music. I love listening to it, making it, discovering it.

Well I've discovered a new one. Okay, it's not new...at all. Just to me. I have fallen in love with Blackbird by The Beatles.

It's one of the most peaceful things I've ever heard in my life. The lyrics are pure poetry.

I find music I like quite often. But sometimes...it just hits me. And this hit me like a ton of bricks.

I haven't decided if I should cry, smile, sing, or frolic. I kind of want to do them all. And that's a beautiful thing.

Since it's almost 3:00 AM I've had to settle for learning how to play it on my violin (I'm only plucking of course, don't want to wake up the "neighbors"). It doesn't feel like enough, not even close (I was tired. Now I'm wide awake. Sigh...).

I stress myself out over silly, petty things like money or schoolwork. In the moment, my problems seem monumental. Like a mountain I will never crest. But when I take a step back, look at things in perspective, the mountain seems to shrink. I can do it. Whatever it is. Priorities seem to have this way of putting themselves in the correct order.

All this from one song. One song.

People underestimate how much music can do.

So, with a lump in my throat and a light feeling in my heart I'll drift off into a peaceful sleep. Thank you Paul and John. You are two beautiful souls.

Spring: Rebirth, Renewal, and Growth

Today was a great day. I didn't do anything magnificent. I didn't create a work of art or volunteer at a school. I didn't even put mascara on. It wasn't anything about me that made this day special. It was what's around me.

I'm writing this post to you at my kitchen bar, as I usually do. A few things are different, though. My front door is open. It's wide open letting Spring burst in billows into my apartment. My windows are open letting soft breezes waft over my belongings. Things are waking up. Not just the plants and the grass. My home. The couch, the shelves, the counters, the candles. They're all filling their lungs with the vitality that is sizzling in the air. It's electric. Something that not even my own body can ignore.

*Alert...I'm about to mention my "girlie time"*

Today is the first day of my period. I have what's known as PMDD which means that sometimes it's hard to cope for the first few days. I've been prescribed anti-depressants. Just to take when I need them. For a while now, I've needed them to survive the first two days.

This month, though, seems different. I have not taken a single pill today. I feel great. I feel cheerful and energetic and full of life.

This isn't a knock on prescription drugs. Not at all. This is merely me relishing in the Earth and the fact that sometimes Mother Natures cures just work better.

I am happy, healthy, and loved. I'd like to think that, maybe just for this moment, the world is right.

Thank you Spring. You may have taken a while to get here but I'm glad you made it. Please, stay a while.

There's Only So Much I Can Take

This is the email I sent to the Dean of Academics at ECC tonight:

Hello Mr. Brennan. I am emailing you today in the wee hours of the morning to voice a complaint. Now, I'll be quite honest, I'm not sure you are the person I should be speaking to. But if I'm really being truthful, I don't think it really matters all that much. You see, since being accepted to ECC back in the Spring of last year I've dealt with nothing but trouble. 

Between being thwarted countless times on the phone (I was living in Florida up until June of 2010 so it was impossible to pop in to the school with questions), being told I couldn't register because classes had been full for the baking program since before I had been accepted but hadn't been told until registration day, and many (trust me on this one) other grievances I have just about had it.

 I will not complain about my teachers or the curriculum. There are things I could say about both, but I'm choosing my battles here, and those two are pretty low on the list. What I'm upset about today is my lack of money. Now, you might be asking yourself how this is any of your concern. This is how:

My student loan was granted in August. I was a little later than I would've liked getting to it, but there were extenuating circumstances (see above regarding registration). It took a few months to get it first semester but I waited it out and finally it was given to me. This semester I was full of hope. "Surely, since it was approved last semester it will be mailed to me on the double!" Well, weeks passed. Then months...I went in to the financial aid office twice (maybe it was three times, I'm losing count) and asked two different office workers about my loan. Both repeated the same thing to me, "Yes, it says your loan has been approved. We do all our mailing on Fridays. Well, I would bet it's waiting for you at home right now!" It wasn't. Either time.

I don't want to bore you with my finances. But let's just say that $80 cell phone bill + $55 for a tank of gas (that'll last me a week and a half) + not getting enough hours at work (but can't get another job until I get my internship which is whole other can of worms that I won't exhaust your time with now) + no student loan = a VERY stressed out college student. 

It is halfway through the semester and I haven't gotten my money yet. I finally broke down in tears tonight because I just don't know what to do. Your financial aid department obviously also does not know what to do. Please, please tell me YOU know what you're doing. I (as well as many others I'm sure, including a good friend of mine that is unemployed and has three kids) really, truly need that money now. I don't understand what is taking so long. Please, shed some light on this subject.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and I genuinely hope you can help me.

Sincerely, 

Kayla Clark

I have no idea if this will help but I have exhausted my other options (well, other than running into the financial aid office screaming and flailing my arms about, but I'm saving that for something really special). I'm hoping that by speaking to a higher up in an intelligent mature manner I will be heard and helped. We'll see...


**Update. Mr. Brennan informed me that he is not the one I should be speaking with. He did tell me who to talk to, though, so I changed out the names and sent the very same email once again. I will not give up until the check is in my hand.

You Can't Fight A Bond Like This

I want to chronicle a day in my life. One day in particular, actually.

This day started out as any other, nothing standing out. It was just before the beginning of the school year and my sister had begged me to come in and give her a hand setting things up in her classroom. It's when I got to her school that things really started taking a turn for the strange.

My sister and I were in her room when she realized she had forgotten something in her car and I graciously went to go get it for her. I was stopped in the parking lot by a woman in her early thirties or so. I smiled, as I usually do when I pass people (it's a habit I picked up working at Atlanta Bread that I haven't been able to let go), and figured we'd both keep walking.

She stopped, though, and so did I (as not to seem rude, of course). She started talking to me about being late or some other trite problem. I realized rather quickly that she wasn't talking to me at all. No, she was talking to my doppleganger, my sister. Even though I knew this was the case I couldn't think fast enough to speak a normal response and move on so instead I muttered something slightly incoherent and walked away. She looked a little confused but went on about her business.

I went back to my sisters classroom and we chuckled about the whole thing. Then she was off to a meeting and I was left sitting at her desk not doing much of anything (I can't remember now if that's because she didn't give me anything to do or if I was avoiding whatever she asked me to do...not important). A friend and fellow teacher of my sisters walked in the room and asked me when a meeting was (presumably the one my sister was at). My response was as follows:

"You know...I honestly have no idea."

This placated her and she left the room without another word. I don't think she ever realized it wasn't Rachel.

Soon after that a custodian lady walked in and asked me a question. I let her know that I was not in fact Rachel nor was I her twin. She bustled out of the room and returned moments later with another custodian lady. This was the conversation:

"Look! That's not Mrs. Kutz. No, it's her sister. Yeah, they're not even twins!"

I was chuckling to myself when Rachel came back in the room. Before I even had a chance to fill her in on the events since she had left she told me how a co-worker asked her if she had changed clothes. He had seen me walking the halls earlier and couldn't figure out why my sister would've changed her clothes in the middle of the day.

I would say this is annoying and sometimes it can be. But more than anything it makes the bond my sister and I share even more apparent. It's also extremely flattering since my sister is beautiful. Being mistaken for her is not too shabby.

I love you Rachel. I can't wait until we're together again. We are special. We are two-of-a-kind.


I'd also like to take this opportunity to say that I have been accepted to the University of Central Florida (my sisters alma mater). I'm now one step close to making my dream become my reality.