Friday, December 24, 2004

Here, There, Everywhere

As I type, I am sitting off the coast of South Carolina, back at our usual Williamson wintering grounds of Kiawah Island, South Carolina. Two plane flights, over twenty hours in the car, several changes of climate, and two families later, I'm halfway through my holiday break.

Leaving Miami happened in a bit of a rush, and I'm really not entirely sure how things got done. Somehow, I remembered to hand in all three midterms (late, true, but oh well), finish my first graduate school class, attend several holiday parties, and pack clothing for the sub-freezing lands up north, as well as the palmy southern climes which I would hit later on in my journeys. Being an "adult" is tiring: arranging a sitter for the newest Williamson pet, finding a place to leave my plants, and managing to get through four full days of school.

Things were going quite well until my last day of work on Thursday. The kids were angels until 6th period, the last hour of the last day in the last month of the year. Clearly. 70 failure notices signed, distributed, and finally okay with the administration, I was more than ready to leave Central with no more hassles. Needless to say, I did not want to have security remove two children from the computer lab, nor deal with the events at North Miami Beach Park.

The girls had a game out against a not-quite-so-sportsmanly team, during which there was somewhat of a bellicose confrontation. A yellow card from their team, much trash talking, and some not-quite-so-accurate referees made everyone pretty angry, including the 40+ fans in the stands, perilously close to the sidelines. Two girls have a rough collision, one fist flies, and the stands empty. Cell phones flip and the police arrive. The clock on the game winds down and we wait around for a half an hour as the sun sets, while angry fans mill around our bench. I was steaming mad to feel unsafe at a goddamn girls' soccer game; to feel surrounded and defensive, on enemy turf while the smug, lazy athletic director sat in his folding chair and did absolutely nothing. Clearly, then, the next thing that I was expecting was a 25 minute lecture from our AD and ineffective AP about the paperwork that the call to the police would necessitate, as well as the bad press that Central would now have to deal with. Essentially, both administrators told us in patronizing tones that "oh, the little white girls got scared and overreacted."

Steamed as hell, I sped home, vented to the roomies (most likely over eggnog spiked with dark rum left over from the party) vented on the phone again, tried to make cookies for teachers at school, and finished most of my packing whilst making disjointed and somewhat incoherent lists of things to do in the next 14 hours before leaving the state. I did then as I will do now, stop all activity, and remind myself that nothing *really* needs to be finished until a reasonably late hour tomorrow. [grin]

to be continued...

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