It is what the educational field calls a "snow day." Teachers like these days even more than students do-- you know how much they like them... double it. Yes, we know that we then have to work farther into June at the end, especially those of us who belong to districts that don't plan snow days into the original schedule. I awakened at my usual 4:15 & went and camped out in front of the tv waiting for my district to cancel. I soon knew I wasn't going in from looking out my window & hearing the amounts of snow that had fallen between me & my school 42.5 miles away.... Yes, for being rather green at heart I commute without a carpool.... At 5:30, 15 minutes after I often leave and 30 minutes after I should have left if I were going to attempt it, the tv finally announced my school's closing. So I called the department phone tree and two other friends whose alarms to awaken wouldn't have even gone off yet because they live closer. "Turn off your alarm & go back to sleep," was the basic message.

& then I went back to bed to "sleep in"... but my brain refused for quite awhile. Why??? Because Flirty won't get my damn e-mail now. Yes, I sent it, and I actually am a little ticked off that today is a snow day. As I laid there trying to go back to sleep, listening to the dog & the 12 year old who camped out in my room last night breathe, I even thought about googling him to get his phone number to tell him to read it.

Yes, do I feel like a stupid teenager. I want to know if it clears the air, or makes things even more awkward. I have 3 teenagers & teach high school so I know the strategies of having a friend call a friend of ..... I thought it immature in high school & never did it. So 30 years later (ok, I exaggerate a few years, blame my father who couldn't count time either), I really think it is immature, but I understand why kids do it. But I don't even know of a friend who has his phone number, and in my new maturity I would just call myself. But I know many people who would think of it as too intrusive to call when the number has not been offered. I, myself, might even get creeped out if the wrong person did it. For obvious reasons I can't post the number on the blog for him.

I just realized that he might not know my real name, not that it would help him much. Last I knew, there were 3 people with the same name in this college town I live in, & I go by my initials in the phone book any way. Now, if you think it odd that he might not know my real name, here's why. I don't use it at work. I use a shortened form of my last name. It is a common last name. It was just recently that I started remembering his first name. At schools, we call each other Mr., Ms., Mrs., Miss....

Anyway. The only people to ever use my legal name were Grandmother, the financial world, and schools. My own parents used a nickname for me, & my brother created several nicknames for me, as brothers do. My mom said that she never intended to call me by the legal name, because she named me after a blonde actress that was famous at the time. Many of my boyfriends and the ex would shorten the name to just one syllable, even though I told them I disliked that. My first name is so popular in my generation that at every gathering of people my age there is another woman or 2 or 3 with it. A few years back I got tired of it,. It sounded like a baby's name, and my students were already shortening what they called me cuz I got too lazy to sign my whole name on passes. Now, I just introduce myself by the short version of my last name, which is a man's name. Since I'm not a froofy female, I like it. It fits me. Long ago I joked that I married my ex for his last name .... my maiden name is a teacher's nightmare... People asked me during the divorce if I was going back to the maiden name; hell no. Then I'd have to give up what I consider to be my name. When I stub my toe, or make a mistake... I reprimand myself using that name, not the name my parents call me.

That girl was a wuss. That girl let people pick on her. That girl wouldn't speak up for herself. I am not that little girl anymore. It reminds me of how native cultures have re-naming rites as a person grows. When I grew up, I re-named myself. Yes, it took me too damn long to grow up. Kind of the story of my life. I waited until college to experience "adolescence."

Oh, I had a boyfriend in high school. I even thought myself grown up enough to ask him to marry me. He said yes. I loved him as best I could. Then my senior year I realized that if I stayed with him, I would never become the teacher of my dreams. There would be no college. There would be working at a greasy spoon to pay for a trailer house filled with snot-nosed brats parked beside his alcoholic father's farm house before I was 21. I couldn't do that, so I broke up with him using a lie. I was just this side of suicidal over that break up & lie; thus my promise mentioned in the last blog not to lie anymore. I didn't know about lies by ommission at that time.

The turning point that summer: I was laying in bed sobbing my eyes out, hugging my huge teddy bear, trying to figure out how to kill myself, & a deep voice came from the dark and said I couldn't because if I did, "God would be pissed." I didn't use "pissed" in my thinking or speaking vocabulary then & I still rarely think it. During college 3 friends were suicidal, and came to me instead. Because I'd been there/done that, they and a few students listened to me & are still alive.

I worked lots of fast food to pay for college. After graduating, I bought a trailerhouse with my left over money. Not long afterward, I met a cute man, got married & pregnant in the same month. About 2 years later I was living in this house, which is twice as big as that trailer house was, running a day care full of snot nosed brats--all by the time I was 26. Oh, and as I learned a little too late, the husband was the son of a dry alcoholic. I think God has a sense of humor.

I saw that first love at Christmas this year. He has a lovely wife & two kids, and rides a motorcycle. He does not live in a trailer house; never has & still doesn't drink booze himself. He went to a Promise Keepers meeting with my father a few years back when Dad had already had his first heart attack & stroke, but before he was as bad off as he is now. God really has a sense of humor; I couldn't get the ex to church, and he goes through periods of drinking. He was never drunk while I was awake, but he hid bottles around the house.

Which reminds me, Flirty asked me why I go to the 8th hour meeting place on Fridays after school. It's like a golfer's 19th hole. I like to be around friends. Four years ago when I started working there, I'd go about once a quarter and have a small amaretto sour... the only flavor I knew I liked. My eyes would feel all furry, & I'd sit for a long while before driving home. Once I moved out & got shared custody of the kids, I started going every other week, when I don't have the kids. Four weeks ago, I had a third amaretto & seven up for the first time & decided that I'm not doing that again. My eyeballs don't get furry anymore, but on the third drink I realized I was having to think for words to finish sentences. That's not for me. The thai chicken quesadilla, the warmed suicide chocolate cake, and the friends are going to be what keeps me going. But I would prefer doing something active.

Last Friday because I was free from motherly responsibilitites, I went with a friend from 8th hour to another place. A fund raiser for a boy's home in the area. $15 for all you can eat & drink. Then it turned out that the only beverage offered was beer. I don't like beer; can't even lift it to my mouth because the smell is so disagreeable. Every one was just standing around talking & trying to drink their "money's worth." I learned a lot about my friend that night, and some about myself. It's not my type of thing to do, but I might go again to make certain she has a designated driver, and doesn't do something really stupid. She is in my prayers.

And for you agnostics and atheists--- God does exist. He does answer prayers for those who believe in Jesus as his son. Every prayer I've prayed repeatedly has been answered & answered the way I asked. Ask & it shall be given unto you. Knock & the door will be opened. Seek and ye shall find. Just like the New Testament promises. When I prayed in that closet, I asked God to let me know if I should stay with my husband. I asked God to let my husband come to me for the first time. I asked Him to let me know if I should stay with him. My husband came & slammed a door in my face as I explained my prayer. Called it bullshit. I knew the answer to my prayer. I prayed for a place to live; the tenant of 5 years gave notice that she would move out the month I planned to have the money to pay the lawyer. I prayed that when I told my husband he would be civil & not go violent. (He was so civil as to be almost whimpish with his begging & pleading me to stay. That was just about as repulsive as his ability to be violent. He didn't know what he would do with out me. He wasn't complete with out me. He needed me. I do not want to be needed to make some one feel complete. I want to be wanted as a partner, not a symbiotic/parasitic attachment. ) When I've needed money; God gave it. When I needed food, God gave it. My parents raised me to be too proud or too insecure to ask for help from people, so I asked God instead and he has answered me through people.

One last testimony today. When I was around 12 there was a feud in the extended family. A favorite relative of mine was outcast & was to be considered dead. I prayed for that relative, & I prayed for renewed contact. When I went to college, I found a phone book for that person's last known address. I had a few choices in the phone book, but picked the right one. I wrote a letter & mailed it. I got a letter back & phone calls & personal visits. I knew I was risking being outcast too. I prayed that my parents would just know. I prayed that they wouldn't be angry. I prayed for the words to explain. I went home for Christmas. I was working w/ Dad in a rental house getting it ready for the next tenants. We're talking about paint, and the work like usual. Then Dad asks out of the blue if I ever got any response when I contacted the person. How did he know? I asked. He woke up one night, during the week of my most fervent prayers & just knew. Now, I know skeptics that might claim telepathy. I don't care. If telepathy exists, God created it & made my father & I able to connect when I needed it. We've not connected since then that I know of.

But I have dreamed about every job I've had as an adult, before I had it. The dreams weren't obviously that place. They took place in rooms & with people that I did not meet during the interview process. I dreamed of being pregnant & unmarried & it wasn't that boyfriend's baby. I was still a virgin when I had the dream, & the ex & I used protection before marriage except for twice...oops. I had a dream of my eldest daughter not being the eldest child running down the hallway & into the kitchen singing a kids' song in this house that I live in now, before we owned the house & before Hannah could walk. One day during the years I ran the pre-school, here they came just as in the dream.

When I have a deja vu, when I have a dream come true, I know there is a special reason. I know that I am where I am supposed to be. Yes, agnostics & atheists mention "self-fulfilling prophecies," but I can not create other peoples' words & actions. When some one calls as I think of them, I know there is something to pay attention to in the contact. When I feel a person tugging me like a magnet, I wonder why. What is there I need to experience? What is it that I need to do for or with them?

This intuition has been a great guide. Do I always listen to it? No. I knew I should have left the ex four months before I ended up marrying him, but God didn't desert me during those 18 years. He just let me learn a few things the hard way & grow up, but he still continued to guide me & answer my prayers. I probably could have chosen a few wiser prayers, but wisdom is gained slowly and painfully. Ever heard: be careful what you wish for?? I would much prefer learning some things vicariously. Wouldn't we all?

May you accept that God is with you, and may we listen to his inner voice inside of us, despite the lack of logic to it sometimes.