Staying up too late and Spending too much at Grocery Stores

I have switched from overeating to overliving

I interviewed two educators about their experiences teaching African American students.
"What values/needs do African American students have that differ from other races?"
"What effectively motivates students within an African American culture?"
"How can white teachers honor the culture in the classroom without seeming like posers?"

Then I rushed home, took a shower, put on this amazing lace dress, blue footless tights, my movie star creme Born Eskimo boots, a tribal necklace I got at Cost Plus World Market, gigantic gaudy brown hoop earrings and my fabulous mint rain jacket I inherited from my nun friend before she joined the convent.

I hitched a ride into the city because it was pouring down slush, and a winter storm warning was in effect.

Boyfriend picked me up and I went back to his place, but first I stopped by Vitamine Cottage and spent too much on exotic foods to make at his house (The tin of Irish Oatmeal I bought for $8, while exhorbitant, was necessary.) We made a big chicken salad (I bought a whole, organic, raw chicken that we had to cook in the oven first)

Then, we watched a movie called Choke,

I worked on my "Teaching African American Students" project.

Next, I woke up early and did my new little routine (A few pages in the Big Book, then this other book called Just for Today, then reading Luke 19 for the sermon I will be giving on May 10.)

Then, church. I loved it this past Sunday. First, Faith led worship. She is my favorite worship leader, because she thinks of fresh ways to worship God. This week she did something on the five senses. We smelled the oils she used to massage Ken's feet before he died, and the oil that her friend uses to calm patients. We touched eachother as we "passed the peace". We saw the candles. We heard new music. We tasted the "common elements". (Faith didn't use unleavened bread and wine, which were much more common in Jesus' day then they are now--she had milk and chocolate chip cookies.) John preached about Luke 16--thats the part where the Bible talks about the account manager who is about to get fired, and goes around canceling the debts of his bosses debters before he gets the boot. The Boss commends him for his cleverness. Then the parable about Lazarus and the rich man. John talked about how we are all villians, and we are all using talents and resources on loan to us. The best thing we can do with our selfishness is be selfish about investing in God's kingdom. We need to use our resources to develop friendships. Friends are expensive! (Boyfriends too, yikes!!) Especially our friendship with God/Jesus...its takes sacrifice. But that is the best way to spend our money/time/talents...because its the only investment that has kingdom value.

Then John went to lunch with me and Boyfriend. "Jaimie, what do you like about Boyfriend?" That threw me off for a second. "Well, he is nice and funny--he is smart, but we have a hold on a completely different body of knowledge." "Where do you think he is on the Myers-Briggs?" "ESFP..." "Enneagram" "Yikes...7, 6? I don't know." "Boyfriend, what do you like about Jaimie?" "I like that she is good with directions...I get turned around a lot." (Really? Thats the first thing that came to mind?) "Back to you Jaimie, what do you like about Boyfriend?" "No way, it is still his turn!!" "Well, I like that we can be physical without being drunk. I like that she is pretty and still a virgin. I like that she says she hates being bossy, but still wants people to do what she tells them to do. I like that she is adventurous." "Ok, Jaimie?" "Well, I like that he is spastically honest--I knew all of his faults on the first date! I like that I can have hard conversations with him. I like that he is not threatened by me. I like that he is creative, and it brings out my desire to create." "Ok, both of you guys, what is the top thing you like about Jesus right now?" "Well, there is this huge chasm between God and humans, right? Its human nature to try and bridge the gap by trying to become like God. Reaching enlightment, discovering the secret to eternal youth, figuring everything out--we build our Tower of Babel. But we can't reach God. Our towers crumble. Then God bridges the gap...he comes to us! He becomes man! He suffers, he dies. He defeats death! That's a good story." "Boyfriend, what about you?" "I like how Jesus is unpredictible. I went to a funeral on Friday. The only church I have ever been to is Faith Bible Chapel. Its on the opposite end of the spectrum as yours...its conservative, huge, predictable. But my pastor talked about the rich man and Lazarus on Friday, just like you did today! And you said some of the same things! It reminds me of how everything's. Its crazy."

I went to the library and checked out everything they had on educating black students, then rode my bike to Wash park to the fitness center, dropped off my bag behind the counter (the counter man acted like he was doing something really exceptional for me; "You know we usually don't do this for people. We can't be held responsible for standing next to your stuff for the next 1 hour. but I will help you out this once. I could never ask my employees to do the same thing, you understand."--thanks buddy.

I went on a run...I wanted to get in 10 miles, but only got in 5. I started late, saw someone I knew, didn't back plan very effectively, took too long in the library, Sara called while I was running, etc.) Then I rode to an overeaters anonymous meeting at an Adventist hospital at 4. When I first walked in, I didn't want to stay! I was deleriously tired, the people there were old and senile, and it smelt like a hospital. It got a little better half-way through--something about the raw honesty of a meeting. We talked about what we were resentful about, and what we do with our resentment. One lady talked about her willingness to leave the planet--not suicidal thoughts--just lack of attachment to life. This idea resonated with me...its a common space I occupy. One other lady, a guest like me who missed her own Saturday meeting (and felt similarly uncomfortable with the hospitally feel) talked about how she had been in the program six years and had just recently identified her primary addiction to needing to be better than others. She said it had two parts--being overly judgemental of others, and justifying and elevating her own actions. This idea of the deeper, underlying addiction really speaks to me. I have struggled with identifying myself as a food addict, when there are others who are much more out of control. But when my addiction was framed in terms of some variation of "addiction to self," I was finally able to make the connection. When it was my turn, I shared that my version of "addiction to self" was my need to be special, to have special treatment, to self-pity, to be above the rules. Afterwards, I exchanged numbers with the other meeting visitor, and road home to talk to SL and Melissa who bought her wedding dress and a bridesmaid dress for me.

Then school, interviewing more educators for my "African American Student project" racing home, cooking dinner, throwing a dress in my messenger bag, and sprinting downtown for my first of eleven salsa dancing lessons.

Sara is going to be going to the lessons as well--my roomate is in the advanced class right afterwards. I made the committment to the class on a whim, but I am going to love it! Its a fabulous way to "learn sexy" in a safe, classy way. I would have stayed and practiced with the expert class, but I made a phone appointment with a teacher training expert in NYC who specializes in putting together inservices for new teachers on effectively teaching at risk students. I hoped to catch some of the class, so I made my call in my roommate's car and typed up responses on her computer. When her computer died, I inched toward the ballroom, and accidently talked really loud right ouside the door--the whole class could hear me and Rachel had to come out and tell me to shush--how embarrassing! Then I stayed up much too late, and went to school the next day.

The beginning was teacher inservice--I wish I had been brave enough to skip it! Classes were short. I took all of my classes outside--it was the nicest day so far this year--and pretened not to notice that most students got no work done! Then tutoring afterschool. I multi-tasked as much as possible, and kicked out the kids that were being high maintenance.

I rushed home, took a shower, made myself cute, then boyfriend picked me up and we went to this boring happy hour with a movie producer that Boyfriend worked with on a short film. He was super embarrassed that he ordered a Manhattan, when everyone else was drinking happy hour beer specials. I was really quiet--I didn't care about interacting with anyone there. I am glad that Boyfriend is not as wierd as some actors. Then we went to Sunflower market and I spent too much getting delicious ingredients for "Three Alarm Tuna Stir-Fry". It was a truely magical dish, despite the fact that I burned the mushrooms, and over-cooked the Tuna.

I stayed up too late.

I got up at 4:50 this morning and met Hal for breakfast at Petes Greek Cafe. I had this strangely delicious 1,200 calorie breakfast Gyro with hashbrowns, while Hal talked about the work he is doing with his PTSD. See, it wasn't just his time in Vietnam that he needed to work through. After Vietnam, his best war pal ended up in Mexican prison for dealing herion. It was the same prison that this famous used-car dealer dealer who ran hot cars to mexico and spent 30 years in prison at. Hal needed to get his buddy out. Mexican prison in the 60's was a racket--a system where the Mexican government tried to milk as much money from the prisoners as possible before they would let them go. Hal's friend had already paid 12,000, but needed 37,000 more. Hal commited himself to getting his buddy out of jail. He rented a farm in CA, and flew to DC to try to borrow money. That didn't work, so he went to CA and became a hash and pot dealer, working with the Hell's Angels. In 6 months, Hal earned the money to get his buddy out. Hal's buddy and girl moved to Hal's farm. Hal stopped dealing, and went to college where he was getting straight A's. His buddy continued to deal drugs. A bust on Hal's house revealed 6 lbs of pot and that landed Hal in jail. It was supposed to be 90 days at this cush receptionist job, but Hal wrote a letter to his friend on the outside that said in it "it has been wierd working with the pigs". That landed him in the "Animal Farm" with all the skin heads, black supremists and mexican mafia. He spent 90 days numb with rage. Luckily he had the protection of the Hell's Angels (the Vice President and co-founder of the original chapter was in the slammer with Hal, and offered his protection.) Hal is spending the next seven weeks in an intensive inpatient PTSD program at the VA. I am sick from my greasy breakfast and sitting at the Tattered Cover.

In 25 minutes I have an interview with the "The Man" in town. Reverand Kelly is the oldest black activist in town. He reluctantly agreed to meet with me. "All these students are asking me to help me with their projects. How are you any different? What are you going to do with this information? I am a busy, important man, and I don't need to help college kids write research papers." "Look man, I am going somewhere. I am a mover and a shaker. I can't tell you where your investment's gonna go, but I am guarunteed return. Plus, I will buy you lunch!"

Then, Shellylynne for coffe, John for a walk at 2, sprint down to Seminary (I have to rewrite my philosophy of counseling paper--I hope I have the time!) I promised my sister that I would spend some time today re-writing her children's book about how a girl becomes a woman, but I am going to have to put that off. Too bad she couldn't possibly understand my frenetic pace. Living off my parent's dime affords her the luxury of working with her husband to meet the basic needs of their three kids, and milking goats. Class at 5-6:50, get home as fast as I can and....

SLEEP!