Athens Bound: Part Two

It's taken me a few weeks to write this and that's due to lack of time and the fact that I almost thought it wasn't going to happen. About two weeks ago, I drove out to Athens to look at houses for sale. (Also, to make sure I wasn't going to be the only person over 22 on campus.) Anyway, I found one house that I'd even consider buying and after seeing what all I could get here in the same price range, I became pretty distraught. Well, I tried to work it out, and thought about it long and hard, and finally decided I'm probably going to have to give up my dreams of buying right now. That sucks, but it should only take me two years or less to finish school and I'll be able to buy then.

Anyway, so unless something crazy happens, I'll be heading out that way sometime this summer. Technically, I could go at the end of April but I really want to be able to swim as many laps as possible and living here is ideal for that. Maybe that's kind of not a great reason to stay here a few more months, but my working out has gone to hell this year and I am so ready to get in better shape.

The other thing is I haven't really talked about with anyone is what I'm planning to do once I get there. I've applied back to the School of Education, to do dual major. One half of that will be Early Childhood Education. The other half will either be English, math, science, or history. (I'm leaning towards English or history.) Anyway, I know, I know, this teaching thing has been eating at me for years and I know I've been talking about law enforcement for a year now, but ultimately, regardless of what I ended up doing, my goal was to work with and help kids.

When I had jury duty two years ago, the thing that stood out to me most...well, maybe second most... was how many kids there are in the community that don't have an adult they can trust or someone who truly cares for them and believes in them. At that point, I was very close to doing something else with my life; that experience delayed it and I truly believe it happened for a reason. I've told this story before here, so I won't get way into it, but I honestly do think I'm on the right path now. As a substitute teacher, I worked in some very poor schools and with students who don't have a lot and I can't even begin to describe the smallest things I could do for some kids, just in that capacity. My aunt once told me the perfect job is one you go to, throw yourself into, and enjoy so much that you don't feel like you're working. I really think this would be it for me. Also, I still have so much other stuff I want to do (writing, travel, etc.) and I think it will allow me the time to do that.

I have no idea what exactly my future holds, if you'd told me ten years ago I'd be 28, almost 29, and going back to UGA to become a teacher, I would have laughed in your face, but I do know I'm very excited about "starting over" and can't wait!!

Athens Bound: Part One

My grandfather has a picture hanging in his office that says something along the lines of, "If you lead a good life, go to Sunday school and church and say your prayers every night, when you die, you'll go to Athens." It's talking about Athens, GA, of course, and all my life I think I've sort of believed that. Well, maybe not exactly, but when it came time for me to choose a college, even though I applied and was accepted to everywhere from Duke to the University of Tennessee, I knew I'd go to UGA. That idea was reinforced when I went for orientation the summer before school started. That night, I stayed in Athens in a hotel room that overlooked North Campus and spent a good while just staring out the window. I was in love with that place.

I ended up leaving school before I would graduate, for a number of reasons I won't bore you with, but ever since then, I've regretted it. Some days more than others. I've tried to go back a time or two but that never worked out and I've tried to chalk it up as a loss. In the meantime, I attended Georgia State and Mercer but there was not a day I went to either of those schools that I didn't think about UGA. Still, I'd pretty much all but given up.

I don't know what exactly happened last weekend that made me decide to try to go back. I know I kept having this crazy desire to move back to Athens and I didn't know why. Maybe in the back of my mind I knew I was going to try to go back. I honestly couldn't tell you. Ironically, when I told a few close relatives and friends about the idea, they all seemed to know it, too. So, I am currently working on getting myself back into UGA for the fall. Please cross your fingers or say a little prayer that I get accepted, if you would.

It's definitely going to be an uphill battle. If I do get accepted (I'm trying not to take anything for granted), I've got to figure out how the heck I'm gonna pay for it. I've got to move back to Athens this summer and I've got to reassure myself that being 29 in a world of mostly 18-22-year-olds is not gonna be the end of the world. (Actually, I've talked to a few people who attended the school as an "older" student and they have been all kinds of supportive.) I'd still like to buy a house if I can, so that's gonna be a huge project to take on in itself.

There's one more little bit to the story that I haven't really told a lot of people yet, but I think I'm gonna save that for part two (to be posted later tonight or tomorrow). It has to do with what I plan to major in/career plans. Let's just say they've changed slightly...again. I can honestly say I am 100% at piece with the decision and my only regret now is not figuring all this out sooner. But, I do think everything happens for a reason, so I'm not gonna sweat it. Instead, starting next week, I'm gonna get my ass out there to look for a second job so come this summer, I can *hopefully* buy a nice little house out east and get my ass back in school.

Quote of the Day

"And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm." - Matthew 8:26

Crossing Bridges

So, I haven't really been going to the park very much since December. After the whole ordeal with my mom, the holidays, me getting sick, the weather being ridiculously cold, and and getting Sadie, well, my daily trips just sort of fizzled out. I've gone here and there in the last month or so, but it's taken a while to get used to having two leashes instead of one and due to a little health problem I've been having, I haven't been able to walk too far. But today, with temps reaching nearly 70 degrees, I decided I had to go.

I wasn't planning to stay long because I have a lot to do today and because the place was overflowing with soccer moms. Unfortunately, we walked through the nature trails for a while and I ended up on a trail I'd never been on and walking a lot further than I'd planned. Eventually we came to a part of the little creek that runs through that park, that I've never seen. Well, there was this rickety old bridge over the creek. It was really narrow, missing planks of wood, and had no rails. One false move and you fall about 5-10 feet to your death or at least a really bad injury. Bridges and heights scare me as it is and there was no way in hell I was going over this one and I didn't want to turn back because it was uphill all the way. So, I decided to veer off the path a little bit and walk along the creek. Surely, there'd be some rocks or something that I could use to get across.

So, we walk through the woods (totally off the path) for a while and Sadie, who is not used to this at all starts acting really tired, and I figured we'd stop at the edge of the creek and I'd let them get some water. The area where I stopped had this huge tree that had fallen over it and the roots of the tree were sticking straight up in the air. They were probably about 10-15 feet high and just as wide, and the creek kind of tunneled up under it. The sides of the creek weren't quite steep there, so I figured the dogs could climb down and get a drink of water and climb back out. Well, I suppose any normal dogs would but not mine. Gabby not only climbed down in the creek, she took off up under the fallen tree roots and decided she was going to go for a swim in that little tunnel. When she came back out, I realized she'd gotten her leash stuck on something up under the roots. She was crying and flapping around in the water that was about as deep as she is tall, trying to get out from under it and I was yanking on her leash, trying to get her free, hoping whatever it was stuck on would just break. No such luck. I even let go of my end of the leash, hoping she could climb far enough to get to me and I could pull it from her end. Again, no luck. Meanwhile, Sadie has gotten herself tangled up in some briers.

So, holding on to both leashes, with both dogs struggling to untangle themselves, I sit down on my ass and slide down the steep bank of the creek. As soon as my feet hit the water in an area that looks really shallow, I realize it's all muddy and sandy and I'm sinking and I'm up to my shins in sand and mud and water. In my new-ish shoes. I wanted to cry. But little did I know, my shoes would be the least of my worries. I tried to take the five or six steps towards Gabby that I needed to take but the further I went, the further I sank and the more she pulled on me. Before I know it, I've tripped and landed face down in the creek. Not only am I wet and filthy from head to toe, but there are little fish (I'm going to say that anyway, but they were more than likely tadpoles) swimming every which way and I could hear every frog I've ever killed or scared laughing at me with sweet revenge. I just knew I'd be pulling them out of my bra and everywhere else for the rest of the day.

So, I'm on my hands and knees, figuring I may as well go ahead and crawl up under the tree roots to get Gabby unstuck and I look back up at the bank where Sadie is still trying to untangle herself from the briers and she is not alone. A little further back is an incredibly hot dude on a bike and a very large dog. Figures. Up until this point, I'd been alone in the woods. He yelled and asked if I needed help and I thanked him but made it perfectly clear that I'd planned to spend my Monday afternoon laying in a creek with my dogs all tangled up in briers and tree roots and told him I was just looking at something. I then jumped up. Grabbed on to the tree roots and another tree and somehow manage the strength to climb back out of this stupid creek. (I'm telling you, it was a steep hill and I've been kind of sickly lately, plus I haven't eaten much in a few days, so I was weak as it is.) He looked at me like I was crazy and went on.

With my dignity intact, or so I think, I continue to walk down the edge of the creek, looking for a place to cross. We're too far away from the path at this point to even consider going back. I finally found some rocks that looked like they'd get me across if I could get to them, so again, I sit down and slide down the steep sides and luckily landed on the rocks. Gabby climbed down and I had to pick Sadie up and carry her with me. Just as soon as I'm up, brushing myself off (though there's really no reason at this point, seeing as how I'm covered in mud), the same hot bike-riding dude is there, about 20 feet away on the other side of the creek and his dog is not on his leash. Anyway, I smiled and stood there, waiting for him and his dog to get out of sight (no way I was going to have him watch me play "leap across the rocks" and then climb back out of the creek on the other side).

Unfortunately, Sadie saw him too. Or saw his dog. She starts barking and freaking out and before I know it, this huge rottweiler is charging at us. The man starts screaming, "No!!!" but it's too late. The dog has made up his mind. He's running at us as fast as he can. I picked Sadie up and pulled Gabby close, trying to figure out how I could keep her from getting hurt. I'm not really scared of dogs, but I really didn't want to see mine get hurt. Before I know what's happening, the dog jumps up on me and nearly knocks me down into the creek (I caught myself on the steep bank). I brace myself for it to eat my dogs and me alive but instead he sniffs and licks me to death. I'm trying to get up, still holding Sadie in one hand...she is squirming and crying wanting to get down and play with him...and holding on as tight as possible to Gabby's leash with my other hand because she has positioned herself between the rottweiler that is twice as big as she is and me, and is growling and trying to get at him, even though he obviously is no threat.

The guy is trying to get the dog but having a hard time getting down in the creek without falling face down in the mud like only an idiot would do and apologizing profusely. We're both super embarrassed. I managed to get up. I said, "Hey, baby" to the big dog (not the hot dude) and he let me pet him a bit and then he went back to his owner who jerked him up very rudely (I felt so bad for the poor thing) and I just knew he was going to hit him. I kept telling the guy it was really OK, I was mainly just worried about what Gabby was gonna do once I realized the dog wasn't mean, but he went back to the path with the dog, cursing and screaming at him with the whole way. Oh well.

We waited for them both to be out of sight before I attempted to climb out of the other side of the creek. I walked the good mile or two back to my car in my wet, muddy clothes and shoes and ignored the stares of everyone we passed.

Next time, I think I'll just take my chances with the bridge.

Ghost Stories

I've been pretty slack on updating (shocker) but I have been working my butt off on a number of other things and that's left me with very little time or desire to sit here and write after I've spent days in a row doing just that. That said, some friends of mine and I have been talking about hauntings and ghost stories and I thought it would be fun to write about my experiences growing up. If you don't believe in this kind of stuff, stop reading here; you'll just think I'm nuts. If you do, keep reading!

First a little background: I grew up in an OLD house. It was built in the 1800's and the house, as well as most of the land surrounding it has been in my family since then. In the 70's, it belonged to my grandmother's 80-something-year-old "Aunt Opal" and when she died (in the house), my grandparents inherited it. Aunt Opal was my grandmother's mother's sister, or my great-great aunt, who never married; I was actually named after her mother - my great-great grandmother - who owned the house before her. Anyway, my grandparents built a house on the land, as did my father's siblings, and growing up, my cousins and I jokingly referred to where we lived as the "compound." My cousin Emily and I spent many summers playing in the woods between our houses and it was always like an archaeological dig, finding old items from the ancestors who had lived there before us. Now on to the good stuff...

So, growing up, before I even knew the history of my parents' house, I witnessed strange things. I was always scared to play in my bedroom alone, when I was little, because I never actually felt like I was alone and my mom said I'd always come find her and ask why she was calling me...even though she wasn't. One night, I woke up in the middle of the night and swore I saw a man in my bedroom. Of course my parents checked into this, thoroughly, but couldn't find any evidence to suggest a man had actually been in my room. When I was older, I found out one of Aunt Opal's brother-in-laws had died in my bedroom and other people who were never named did too.

But something I'll never forget, is a sleep walking incident that happened when I was in about third or fourth grade. As far as I know, I've never been a sleep-walker, but for some reason that night, I got up and walked through the house. I walked through the kitchen and living room and to my parents' bedroom door before I guess I decided to go back to bed and I swear to this day there was a party taking place in the living room. Lots of people from a different era, gathered around, drinking and laughing, and celebrating something. I particularly remember a lady in a blue and white polka dot dress. She was sitting in a chair, close to the door to the living room and she turned around and looked right at me and smiled. The next morning, I just knew I'd dreamed it but it had been so realistic and I knew I'd been out of bed. Fast forward several years and I'm in my early 20's and I'm doing some family history research. My grandfather called me one day and told me he found some old pictures of my grandmother's family and I went to his house to see them. One of them was an old black and white photograph, along with a clipping from a local newspaper, announcing my great-great grandparents' 50th anniversary celebration. Seeing it brought back every memory of that night that had taken place over a decade before. It featured them and all of their children (including Aunt Opal) standing in my parents' dining room, having a party. My mom, aunt, grandfather and father have spent a long time debating which one of the daughters was Aunt Opal, but I knew she was the lady in the polka dot dress. I still have that picture.

My parents always made fun of me when I told them of things I saw or heard in our house and I'm pretty sure they were convinced it was just an overactive imagination. Maybe it was, but I'm so convinced otherwise and things happened over the years that left even them looking for a logical explanation. My mom said she often smelled some kind of cream Aunt Opal had always used and she said one night she was in bed, wide awake, and someone grabbed her foot. I never witnessed any of this, but I was with my dad when he began to question what I believed. He and I were sitting in the living room, watching TV. I could see the refrigerator in the kitchen; his back was to it. All of the sudden, the door came flying open with so much force, there was no way it was simply not closed well. My dad heard it and looked at me, about to ask if someone was in the kitchen, but before he could say a word, the door slammed back, with just as much force. Even though he continued with his "there must be a logical explanation" attitude, I could tell he was slightly unnerved.

Those are just some of the more memorable things I witnessed over the years and they don't even begin to scratch the surface. I witnessed electronic devices making unnatural sounds, ceiling fans suddenly spinning wildly for no legitimate reason, and even our dogs seemed to know something was up. Every dog that has ever lived in that house during my lifetime would always stare at a certain corner of the room, often cocking their heads to the side or wagging their tails. And I'll never forget visiting my grandfather's house (next door to my parents' house) one day when he was not home. I had to go into his office, which meant going through the kitchen, den, and a hallway. It was getting dark outside, so I turned on every light in every room I went through. On the way back, I turned every one of those lights out. I turned around when I got to the kitchen door and saw that everyone of those lights was back on. Maybe there is some sort of logical explanation but after all I've dealt with in my life time, I'm pretty convinced that there are ghosts among us.