If you are a parent, part of your job is to protect your child. To shield him or her from the injustices and tragedy and struggle that is such a part of adult life. To allow him or her to feel completely safe in his or her own home, and to know that there is an adult who cares about them, and would do anything to help keep anyone else from protecting this safe, nurturing bubble.

Adulthood will come when it does, revealing the unfairness, the ugliness, the sadness of reality. It will come sooner for some children than for others, even despite their parent’s best efforts to shield them from it for as long as possible.

There are parents who have somehow missed this memo. Who see their children as possessions, playthings or burdens. Who allow, through their own selfishness or stupidity or ignorance, for their children to witness great harm and great ugliness and then don’t give them any of the emotional tools necessary to deal with this.

As a teacher, I need to do more than just ensure my students leave my classroom with the skills and knowledge mandated by the state board of education. I need to help give them the tools to be good citizens, good friends to one another, and the best person they can be. If a child has behavioral or emotional issues because of what is happening in their home, I can only do so much to help put the pieces back together.

Parents: your children are watching you. They are listening. They are understanding more than you could ever know, and feeling more than you could ever comprehend. They are vulnerable templates of human beings, each capable of greatness in his or her own way. Put away your pride, your anger, your selfishness, your own emotional deficits and show them what it means to be kind, to do the right thing, to make good choices. Please allow them the chance to be as great as they can be.

Before I get angry at anyone, I am more inclined to be sad. Sad for the families of everyone involved who may not have any better idea of what is happening with their loved ones than any of us do right now.

I’m also thinking about the 31 fourth graders who I’m inevitably going to have to talk to about this on Monday morning. It’d be irresponsible of me not to. How do I explain something like this to these kids? I’m not entirely sure, but I do know that I am going to say this much to them:

Some times bad things happen to good people, and no one knows why. It’s sad. And it’s okay to feel sad and to tell people you feel sad.

Whoever did this was motivated by hate. Hate is the most dangerous feeling in the world. The second you feel yourself feeling hate towards someone or something, you need to stop whatever it is you are doing, back away from the situation, take a few deep breaths and tell yourself that you are better than that.

My classroom has a wide variety of kids with a wide variety of talents and abilities and from a wide variety of backgrounds. Some of the kids in my class have parents who drive luxury SUVs and are already fretting about whether their kid will get into the Ivy League school they themselves went to. Some of my kids live in government housing and have parents who work two or three jobs to try to support them. Some of my kids will be recruited for colleges I couldn’t get into. Some will be recruited for gangs.

But this is a message they all need to hear, and that I think we all need to think about right now while the details of this unfold:

Hate and violence are never the answer, and nothing but more hate and violence and chaos will come from them.

Love and empathy is what we need more of. Instead of thinking about pointing fingers right now, we should be feeling love and empathy and sadness for the family of the people involved in this tragedy.

And that’s all I’m ever going to say about this: to you all or my students or anyone.

My favorite thing so far? I have amassed a “fan club” so far consisting of a few of the girls in my class. Everything I do or say or wear is “TOTALLY COOL OMG MS. MENDELSOHN!”. Yeah, it’s totally silly and ridiculous, but for someone who has felt decidedly uncool her whole life, it’s really kind of fun. You should have seen their faces when I told them that the bracelet I was wearing used to be a spoon, and that I bought it on Etsy for $12. They’re just starting to develop their own little personal senses of style and it’s truly adorable. I remember being their age and AGONIZING over which scrunchie I would wear on my wrist that day.

It’s such a fun age: they’re all still very baby-faced and cute but I can sort of see the little adults they’ll eventually become starting to take shape, slowly. They’ve all got their own unique and intense personalities and interests and yet they still have that collective bond of kid-ness and can coexist peacefully for the most part without the ‘tudes and cliques that will appear any minute now.

Also there’s a hot janitor. No, really. A hot janitor. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I’m pretty sure the janitor at my school was 95 years old (so in reality he was, like, 45) and all I remember is that he smoked in his tiny office and put the cigarette butts in an old Eight O’Clock coffee can that seemed perpetually filled to the brim and yet always managed to accommodate his next butt, snubbed out hastily before having to go inevitably mop up some kid’s vomit.

It’s funny the things we remember. I guess I just hope that, even though I’ll only be with them for a few months, at least a few of these kids will remember me. And that they won’t remember me as being 95 years old.

I hate that some days all I can see when I look at myself in the mirror is a hot steaming pile of FAIL.
I hate that I judge everything I do against impossible standards. I don’t even know where they came from anymore, but there they are, mocking me at every turn.
I hate that I can’t take a compliment. You might hear me say “thank you” and smile politely but inside my head I’m thinking “What do they want? Why are they lying to me? What are they trying to get out of me?” because so many times in my life, exactly that has happened. Someone was nice to me, I let my guard down, they took what they wanted and left.
I hate that I can’t trust anyone, even those who have stuck around for years and proven their dedication I have to hold at arm’s length, sometimes, because it’s safer.
I hate the urge I sometimes get to just bail on people, to reject them before they have a chance to reject me, if I sense an impending rejection.
I hate that I judge people automatically because I judge myself so harshly.

I hate that my opinion of people is always hung up in my opinion of myself. And I hate that my opinion of myself is as low as it is, and that it’s based on what people have told me I should think about myself rather than any actual facts.

30 Days of Truth

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days.
Day 14 → A hero who has let you down.
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs.
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

“I mean, you just never know what it’s going to do. You’ve got to be like Beyonce at the Grammys and just be ready to do a costume change whenevs.”

Yep. We’re related.

Basically, the drug company hired a PR firm to have people put editorial stories in local newspapers and on TV shows so that they can sell more of their drug. I’m no fan of big pharma, but I am a fan of Fibro awareness in general, so I’m happy to be in a print or tv or radio thingy telling people with Fibro symptoms to GO TO YOUR DOCTOR. NOW.

I’ve been corresponding back and forth with the PR firms account rep for about 6 months now, and we were on the phone today getting my availability over the next few months in the hopes that something will stick, soon. She asked about my XMas plans and I mentioned I was going home to FL.

Funny, she says, I’m from Florida too.

Whereabouts, I ask

Vero Beach, she says.

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR, I said. I’m FROM VERO.

What school did you go to, I ask, assuming she went to the public school and not the tiny little private school I went to.

OH YEAH. SHE WENT TO MY SCHOOL. She was 5 years behind me, but was in chorus and stuff with my younger sister. She did theatre stuff during high school BECAUSE SHE SAW THE SHOW I DID MY SENIOR YEAR AND THOUGHT I WAS GOOD AND WANTED TO BE LIKE ME.

Let that sit in for a second.

This person, who just minutes ago was nothing more than a virtual stranger, is from my town, walked the halls of my school with me, and made an extracurricular decision BASED ON THE FACT THAT SHE SAW ME AS THE LEAD IN A SHOW MY SENIOR YEAR.

Oh, and her parents? Yeah, I could walk to their house from my parents. In fact I might, this Christmas, if I have time, to say hello.HER AUNT WAS MY NEIGHBOR FOR 4 YEARS.

Very strange indeed. 60 kids graduate from my high school every year. How on earth did the universe see fit to reconnect me with this person? I have no memory of her, I babysat kids in her grade, but she has a distinct memory of me and admired me even though I basically didn’t know she existed. How funny.

I’ve been saying for years I need to find some sort of outlet to start performing again. Maybe this is some sign from the universe to get on with it already? I’m not normally inclined to have those sorts of beliefs, but come on, this is ridiculous.

I dunno. Makes me think, if nothing else.

I went to bed at 11, and woke up at 6 AM feeling feverish and with a strange burning sensation in my chest. I was hoping it was just heartburn and being overheated from being under the covers, but when Ian woke me up at 9 to get ready for my physical therapy appointment, it was evident I have a major case of what I like to call The Creeping Crud.

The Creeping Crud usually starts out as a cold. I had one, about 10 days or so ago, when I came back from NC. I blamed it on the recycled plane air, and I thought I was feeling better, even though I was feeling a bit run-down the past few weeks.

Well, I ALWAYS feel run-down. It’s part of that whole “Chronic Fatigue Syndrome” thing, so I had no way of really knowing that The Creeping Crud was coming back to kill me. I also had some minor stress yesterday, and am a little stressed out in general with a busy schedule and a full academic load, so that just added fuel to the fire.

And, here it is. My head is full, I’m feverish, exhausted and that burning sensation? Yeah, that was my lungs. So, I’m off to the doctor tonight and then I’ll be following up with my Fibro Doc for a lovely IV cocktail of fluids and vitamins.

I know I might sound like a whiner sometimes, but Fibro is just plain evil. Not only do you have the physical pain and the fatigue, but your immune system is pretty much decimated.

All in all, I still think of myself as a happy person. I have more good things going for me than I can count, and I often feel guilty complaining about this stuff, but would you want to be sick all the time? I doubt it.

If any of you have any spare change or belong to a company with a charitable giving program: please consider donating to Fibromyalgia research. The kicker is, my case is mild compared to many people. About 30% of people with Fibro are on disability. If you are interested in donating but don’t know of a reputable charity, get in touch with me and I can steer you in the right direction.

If we could put a man on the G_ddamned moon we can get some doctors and scientists together to figure out what in the hell is going awry in my body. I am determined to see a cure for this in my lifetime, not just for myself but for all the people I have met, in real-life and online, who suffer from this “syndrome” far worse than I do.

This shit just ain’t right.

Let me break this down for you, and you tell me if this makes any sense.

I have a $555 Credit Voucher. I use $220 of that to purchase my ticket. I cannot, due to good old Continental’s rules, purchase Ian’s ticket in the same transaction. I purchase my ticket, and receive a $330 “Certificate” which I can then use to purchase Ian’s ticket. I do so, online, receiving a confirmation number and all that jazz.

Today, I realize I did not receive a confirmation email for Ian’s ticket. I log on with his confirmation number to find that the “status” of his ticket is “not purchased.” Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa? I check the balance on the “Certificate” to find that the $220 has already been withdrawn to pay for his ticket, which I THOUGHT I had done on Saturday when I made the initial reservation.

Well, turns out these flights are technically “code-shared” with United Airlines. Which means I can’t use a Continental “Certificate” to purchase them. However, I could use a Continental “Credit Voucher” to purchase mine. IT’S THE SAME DAMN MONEY FROM THE SAME DAMN PLACE, CHANGING THE NAME OF IT SHOULDN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU CAN BUY WITH IT.

So, in the process of buying my tickets, my credit with the airlines turned from a “Credit Voucher” into a “Certificate”. AND, the computer system DOESN’T RECOGNIZE THE DIFFERENCE which is why I thought my initial purchase had gone through. The deduction made to the “Certificate” showed in their computer system as “pending” and it supposedly will be returned to the Certificate in 24 hours. On my end, all I can see is that the deduction was made. So, I ended up having to pay for Ian’s ticket with a credit card. After speaking to a representative who hung up on me because “I didn’t know what I was talking about”.

NO SHIT I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT, THE INFORMATION I WAS WORKING WITH, GIVEN TO ME BY YOU, DIDN’T MAKE ANY GODDAMN SENSE.

So, I know have a $220 charge on my credit card, when I have a $333 Continental “Certificate”. Which I may never get to use. Which is EXACTLY what they want to happen.

And then there’s the folks who, upon winning a china hutch or a trip to Arkansas or something, burst into tears and thank Jesus for their good fortune. I hate to burst their bubble, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a great possibility that Jesus was not involved in this transaction.

I’ve never understood fanatical devotion to any celebrity of sorts. I would not have cried or screamed had I been in the audience of the Ed Sullivan show when the Beatles made their legendary appearance. There is no person I can think of that meeting them would reduce me to tears. Does this make me a cynic? Or is it just the WASPY side of me moderating my enthusiasm? I’m not sure, but I do somehow feel a sense of superiority when I view these strangers being reduced to tears by a game show. Maybe I’m just an asshole. I suppose that’s a possibility.