Being a Homeschooler

We had always wanted to do bad things together. And this was probably the worst. We’re not bad kids, we really aren’t. We’d swear and make our parents go crazy with the things we threatened to do; but in the end, we'd never do anything.

Ivan and I have grown up together. I met him when I was about 7.

Both our families were homeschooled, so we had a lot of free time on our hands. And man, how we used that time. From building elaborate forts in the woods, to running around in capes and sword fighting, we did everything a sheltered homeschooler should do.

My brother would always come along with us, even though he was a couple years younger, but the three of us were basically inseparable.

Once, when we were about 11 or 12, we decided to steal some beer from the fridge. We mapped out our plan for not letting the parents see us. My brother would distract them, and Ivan and I would open the fridge and grab a few bottles.

We really were clever kids, and our plan worked brilliantly. We nabbed three Dos Equis and ran out to our fort in the back. We felt so proud of ourselves. We were Badass. Or so we thought. But as we looked at our stolen beer, we realized, we didn’t have the guts to drink them. What if the parents smelled it on our breath? We’d be dead then.

In the end, we just left them there; a reminder of how we could be bad if we really wanted to.

***

Both of our families have attended the same church for 10+ years now. And over the years, we've acquired a taste for wine. In the Orthodox church, real wine is used for the communion, and so, even though you get only a spoonful once, maybe twice a week, your taste buds get used to the pungent drink after a while. By the time I was 13 or so, I was a wine connoisseur. One week at church we might have Manichewitz wine, and the three of us had discussions whether we preferred this to the port wine, even the freshly made Greek wine used at past Sunday services. Over the years, we decided, hands down, Manichewitz was the best.

This past spring, we decided to take our badass-ness to another level. On Easter, our service gets out around 1am, and we always pull an all-nighter. This year, we ditched the energy drinks, and went for something a little stronger.

There was a case of old church wine in the basement of our church;and to our luck, it was Manichewitz. And so, not wanting to let this perfectly good case of wine go bad, we decided to take it with us to Ivan’s house after the service.

We all trudged up a big hill behind his house. We had a feast of fresh baguettes, cheese and wine, and man, did it taste good. We each had a bottle…and then some. Its the kind of wine that gets really good and strong with age. It has this really nice bold flavor, and since it had been sitting there for a while, it was a little stronger than usual. We were sitting on top of a hill in early spring...but we weren't cold at all.

We all watched the sunrise, and laughed and talked about how we couldn’t believe we actually went through with our plan. Then, once all the wine was gone, we decided to go do something more innocent and traditional. We walked over to the nearby dump and smashed a few abandoned cars with golf clubs.

It was one of the best nights of my life.

The things I see as I walk along the street—that’s heaven to me…or is it?

The red and yellow leaves are all dried up and create a carpet like path for me. They crunch and fly around as I walk over them. The buildings, green, blue, and red brick contrast with each other. The fountain, closed for the winter, stands lonely and empty. The trash cans around the town square are overflowing with trash. An old man shuffles through them and grabs bottles.

Three men in their early 30’s approach me. They are three buddies reuniting after decades apart. One, a NYC native asks me with the classic accent, what happens on a classic ‘night on the town.’ I smile and tell them the truth. Other than drinking at the pub and listening to local musicians, there’s really nothing else.

The warm coffee shop brings life to my fingers as I fill up my cup with sugar and coffee. Soft colors and quite conversation.

Again my fingers feel nothing as I wait for my bus to arrive. I pass a bench where a man is sitting. Without warning he unzips his pants and starts to piss.

Heaven: a balance between the good and the bad.

Bits of Life

Rain.

***

Being a willful child, and getting soaked. Wet hair sticks to my face, and then my smile fades as mom’s frown appears. My punishment: a smack on the butt, and no T.V. tonight.

I still had fun though.

***

I laugh and try to drag him into the dreary day. He is such a stick in the mud. He needs to loosen up and get the word ‘academia’ out of his head. We walk from the library down the hill, and into the town. I crack a few stupid jokes, and tease him.

My clothes are damp now. I probably look horrible, but at least he’s smiling.

***

Hysteria makes people do funny things. She’s crying, and freaking out.

‘I shouldn’t have gone into his dorm room alone. I was so stupid. Now I’ve really hurt him.’

‘It’s ok. Nothing actually happened. You’ll be fine.’

We think of something to get her mind off of the matter. We decide to go camp out in the woods. Torrential rains, and hurricane winds almost blow us off balance; but the tent is warm and dry.

Kumquats and chocolate fill our mouths. We talk and laugh and sing words of nonsense. She’s feeling better now. But when we turn out the flashlight, I can hear her tears.

I put my arms around her.

***

Alone.

Sitting in a tree with no one in sight. I wrap my coat around me tightly in an effort to ward off the cold. I close my eyes and think of nothing.

Absolute peace.

Water trickles down my face and soaks my shirt. The cooling spring breeze brushes over my face. Above the world, and feeling free.

***

‘Oh God.’ My brother can’t look at it. As if he feels he’ll become less manly if he views the spectacle. Two men dance to a ‘90s beat which is blasting from a silver boom-box.

Tighty-whiteys and Space helmets; that’s it.

I close my eyes and pray that the cold wind and rain will force them to put something else on.

***

Thunder and rain. Water drops from the ceiling onto my neck. The shock makes me flinch, and his fingers wipe the cold away.

I think I can take 6 more hours of this.

***

Yellow leaves. Gray Clouds. Blue patches of sky.

As I scan barcodes and take people’s money, I listen to the small talk of countless people. Too much rain they say.

Too much complaining.

My Sanctuary

It sits in the middle of a class B river. Dark water and strong currents surge all around it. Sharp rocks hide in the murky river; waiting to catch the unsuspecting foot. The island, surrounded by natural dangers and little fishes, has become my sanctuary. It’s like a description you’d hear from a fairy tale. A stream flows quietly through the middle of the island, splitting it in two. Little frogs, still getting used to their new bodies,

hop and swim around the shallows. Moss hangs off the weeping willows, and the soft muddy banks are imprinted

with little animal foot prints. As I wade down the stream, my feet slip slightly on the algae covered rocks. The water is just shallow enough that I have to squat a bit in order not to fall, and my toes accumulate a few scrapes along the way.

Once you get past all the hazards, you see absolute peace. There is a rock jutting out from one of the muddy banks. Inside the crevices, little bits of grass try to survive; red moss and a single flower also adorn a small place on the rock.

I curl up on the rock, and let one of my feet dangle carelessly into the gentle water. A cool breeze raises the hairs on my damp arm. Then, the hot sun chases it away.

When you look around you can see the sun making shadows with the tree’s leaves. They creep slowly over the water; they’re like awkward people at their first dance class. It’s funny because, as you’re swimming in the water, you can’t see the bottom. But when the light shines on it, you can see the water is completely clear and free of any monsters. Once you come to that realization, you relax, shut your eyes, and let the day roll on by.

Facebook can only get you so far. I've posted notes and gotten comments, but for some reason it just doesn't seem right. Its not a writing-centric atmosphere, and thats what I wanted.

I've always meant to start up a blog, just an open journal for anybody who cares. It's just the act of writing, and thinking that possibly somebody will read this,that gives your mind release.

I'm taking a creative non-fiction course right now, and I have a lot of material that I've liked, so I figured, what the hell, I'll just publish it all in my blog. And if it's still here...I can show my kids this someday.

If you're reading this, beware.

The writings that follow are of a mad-woman in her right mind.