Where is my mind?

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No updates in awhile, because what does free time look like again?

I do have some exciting news though: this is my last 8 weeks in community college. I already put in my intent to enroll at one university.  Waiting on a response from some big name, overpriced, private university that I am hoping will say “Yes”-but with money. Lots and lots of money.

Since I promised a series on “going back to school” and I am currently unable to make good on that promise , I will post my personal statement below. It’s an o.k. summation (and a good reminder) of why I’ve given up fun for the last few years. I wish I could find my old student again, wherever she is, to be like, “HEY NO EXCUSES!”

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Hitting Chicks is Fun!

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In 2010, my husband jokingly said “You ought to play roller derby.” I was like, “No way man.” Why? Because I used to have this bad habit of always holding onto negative things people said to me or about my abilities. See, the year before my husband suggested it, I mentioned to someone that it seemed cool and that I wanted to try it, because “why not?”  The person laughed at me in addition to commenting publicly on Facebook that they couldn’t see me doing it. I wasn’t “violent” enough, or something. Someone else said that I was kind of a weakling. That stuck with me even after multiple people told me that I was totally capable of it. Even though roller derby is not violent. Aggressive? Yes. Full-contact? Yes. Violent?! I had taught myself gymnastics as a child. I played softball and basketball. Before an injury, I was training to run a marathon.  But, obviously the people who said I wasn’t athletically-inclined were right…right?

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Dang it.

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I hated this saying so hard. Hated it because it put the impetus for success on me. And, I mean, I wanted to achieve my goals, but HELLO MY LIFE IS HARD, OK? I mean, come on! I’m an orphan. I was taking care of a sibling! I was raised in poverty! I didn’t even get the chance to graduate high school! I was arrested for elder abuse! I turned 18 when I was homeless! THOSE were the reasons I couldn’t achieve my goals. I, myself, was not the reason! 

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Don’t take it personally

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Sometimes the blogosphere is not very exciting. Currently, Madonna’s homeless brother is making the rounds, complete with the added noises of “What a bitch [Madonna] is for leaving her brother homeless!” “There’s no excuse not to help out a family member.” “Family is forever.” (Go ahead and Google it.)

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Thank you

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I would like to thank everyone for their support regarding the National Guard and my family.  Thank you for the personal emails, the comments, the reposting, the advice, the stories, etc.

We will keep everyone updated as this mess goes forward.

To other readers who enjoy my unique perspective on things – homegirl is busy, but hold tight – they’re a-coming. I am taking an insane 12 credits this semester, in addition to my job, and I’m working on my college applications.

Yep – that’s right.

I may be attending a for realz college or university next Fall.  Whether my main focus will be accounting or economics depends on where I get into; currently, I’m applying for both depending on the school and program.

Wish me luck!

Dear Senators/Representatives/Er’rybody

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I am writing this letter to you to seek help in dealing with the California National Guard and the Dept. of Veterans Affairs.  My husband is a Special Forces-selected, 27-year-old Iraqi War veteran living in Los Angeles, who left active duty in order to finish his college degree while remaining in the military—even if only part-time—and commission as an Army Infantry officer.  He was dedicated to protecting this country and what is being done to him is nothing short of disgusting.

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I’m Not Jewish – I Think

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The 12-year-old girl who lit shabbas candles by herself, in her room, would be appalled to know that she would utter the phrase “I’m not Jewish” 14 years later.

But, it’s true.

I’m not really Jewish.

I grew up going to synagogues, met my best friend in  Jewish Club, celebrated holidays, memorized Fiddler on the Roof, named my diary after Anne Frank when I was 9, and, prior to discovering punk rock and tattoos, was pretty convinced I would grow up and convert officially to Orthodox Judaism.

But, I’m not really Jewish.

My dad is Jewish.  My grandparents came to America at the turn of the 20th Century in order to escape the Russian pogroms.  My father was born in a tenement in the Bronx, a year before the stock market crash. His first language was Yiddish, second language was Hebrew, and he learned English on the streets and at school. He often told stories of being chased home from Hebrew school by the Italians.

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How to Work Full-Time, Go to School, and Not Want to Kill Yourself; Part I

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I decided to work on a series dedicated to those who are (un)lucky enough to work full-time and go to school. This will be a multi-part series covering everything from financial aid to enrollment to balancing life/time to psychological barriers. If you have any questions and/or comments, please feel free to email me at holymoly (at) valleygirlintelligentsia (dot) com, or leave a comment here. If you have any nuggets of advice you’d like to add, leave a comment!

You can describe working full-time and going to school in one word: sucks.  It really, really sucks.  People will try to dress it up or say it’s “not that bad,” but…those people have never had to do it and it just really freaking sucks.  Forty hours of your week are dedicated to working for your living expenses. (I’m assuming if you’re working full-time and going to school, it’s because you have to support yourself.)  Then you get 15+ hours in a classroom.  You must then balance the rest of the free-time with things like: laundry, studying, grocery shopping, eating, and, uh, sleeping. When you have a spouse and kids – it gets even harder.

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