Bags Plus Double Bags

Sometimes when I am at work, I shake in my own pants. Yep. I get so scared. I'm like, "Lord please don't let anybody go off." It is bad. Tonight I was sitting there listening to a bad conversation going on in the hallway while I watched City of Angels with a bunch of girls. So I wasn't really paying attention to the movie, becuase I was zoned out thinking, "my ass is grass tonight." Then a girl asked me, "So, what just happened, who is that guy?" And I honestly had no clue. I just had to say, "I'm sorry. I wasn't listening to the movie. I was zoned out." Basically, the conversation was being led by a girl who really can't stand me. She was angry that I threatened to hang up the phone if she didn't get off and simply just because I'm Ms. Starnes. She was like, "I swear, I don't want Ms. Starnes to say another word to me." I sat there thinking, "What did I do to deserve this?"
An hour later, I was sitting calmly in the kitchen wondering, "How did this happen? How did we keep this dorm from going off?" It was simply amazing.
Last night I had the same feeling in my stomach, butterflies. I sat uptight and ready to jump if necessary. I assumed that we were going to have a rough bedtime. I was mentally reviewing all my SCM skills and wondering who was skilled out and knowing their locations at all times. But, guess what, nothing happened. I wasted all that energy thinking and worrying when I could have been using it to build relationships with these girls. So tonight makes two great nights in a row for Pelletier. I am ashamed of my pessimisim. I cannot believe how much this job has made me recognize my weaknesses. I must stop making assumptions about these kids just because their past behaviors point straight to negativity. Stories like the following one are great examples of how I should never give up on one of the kiddos. Last night right before bedtime in the middle of me writing off the night as a failure, a girl who I had been having issues with took up for me. She told her peer, "Stop being mean to Ms. Starnes. That's my friend." I wanted to run and give her a huge hug and thank her greatly. It meant so much to me. She is the girl who a few weeks ago said to another staff, "Please sit over here Ms. Hall because I don't want a certain staff to sit by me." I was that certain staff and it was obvious. She constantly mumbled bad things about me under her breath. The first step in our make-up was after school this past Monday. She said, "This morning I had bags plus double bags under my eyes." I just thought that was hilarious, and I must have laughed for five minutes about it -- in the typical Jenny fashion, of course. She enjoyed this. Later that night, she sat down and did Origami with me. She had never been so eager to sit with me and do my activity. Therefore, I said, "A----, I really appreciate you being so nice to me today and participating in Origami." She said, "Well, you made me feel so funny earlier." And that was a wonderful moment. After she went to sleep, I left her a note under her door restating my comment and encouraging her to remain positive, and things have been wonderful with her since then. (knock on wood.) The next night, she was managed and sent to time-out. I processed with her and somehow we both ended up crying, and this also strengthened our relationship. I've realized that she really appreciates me leaving notes under her door, and if that is all it takes, I'll do it everyday. Of course, leaving notes is right up my alley anyway!
My next subject to mend my relationship with: K------ or A-------. I can do it. Yes I can. I'll keep you posted.
Well, I sort of got off track with this, but I just wanted to write a little about work.

Happy Birthday BEN!!!

The never-ending joy of SET continues

The only thing positive I can say about today's work experience happened just minutes before I left. Two clients almost got in a fight over my SET cards. I know, "'almost got in a fight' what is so positive about that?" But the key is that they were both wanting to play with my SET cards. On the inside, I smiled. I introduced the SET to the girls a few weeks ago. There were 4 or 5 girls who became interested in it immediately. It was so exciting to be in the kitchen cooking dinner and hearing, "Set, Set, Set, Set" in the Great Room. You'd almost have to be me to completely feel the joy I felt. But since then, my SET cards have been floating between three of the girls. I now use SET as a consequence or reward. Like today I said, "M---- if you don't go to your room right now, I'm going to take my cards away from you." I don't think she believed me, because she didn't listen, and five minutes later, I took the cards from her and gave them to her peer who had been asking for them. She looked at me in disbelief and disgust. I guess she'll learn. Oh the power I may have thanks to a little game I learned of a few years ago...

Too cute for words

My favorite ladies are coming to visit on Saturday. I can't wait. I miss them dearly!!!

Self-Esteem

I've realized something new about myself in the past month or so. I've realized that I have really good self-esteem. I know that this is a random thing, but just hang in there with me for a minute. Tonight at work when I heard a girl say to a staff, "You have really big hips." The staff said, "Yeah, I know," laughed, and continued walking down the hall. I thought about it and realized that in order to handle my job, a person would have to be comfortable with their appearance. These girls have no filters on what comes out of their mouths. They are still learning how to be respectful of people who aren't like them. Within the past two months, almost every aspect of what makes me me has been criticized. Twice a week someone inevitably mentions something about my blondeness. I must have explained that I really am a true blonde 15 times, and I've gone through the whole mascara issue more times than I can remember. Sometimes there are lots of blonde jokes. I've even had a girl tell me that I should dye my eyebrows because it would make me look better. I've been asked if I am an albino. They have pointed out my birthmarks. They've noticed my slightly lazy eye. They have asked about the little indention in my chest that looks like a bruise. They have questioned the scar on my forehead. A girl has even said I have a mustache and explained to me that girls aren't supposed to have mustaches. And I think the funniest story relating to this is the following: a girl was commenting on my tan shoes with the deep pink stripes and shoelaces. She said, "You really like those kind of shoes." I said, "Yeah, I guess I do wear these shoes a lot." She said, "No, I mean, you have lots of those kind of shoes. It makes me think you are.... well, nevermind." And in case you are wondering, the ... means gay. Oh man, I laugh thinking about that. I've never been accused of being gay. It is sort of fun. I guess she thinks I should wear huge skateboarding shoes like she and DHigh does (no offense d, I'm just not into those for me.) I am almost to the point where I wear weird things just to see if they will comment on them and think I'm gay or something.
Oh my... so my next question is, "Since when did such comments not hurt my feelings or get to me in the slightest?" And I know the answer. This I must thank my entire crew of college friends. I cannot explain how much they helped me understand that my body is fine, better than fine, wonderful. I don't really know how they truly convinced me, but I thank them for their consistant reassurance. Combined with shrugging off the girls' never-ending comments, this weekend I decided for sure that I'm okay with how I look. I guess Carrie was a little obsessive with the compliments when we went out on Saturday night, and I had to act like I believed her just to keep us from fighting. However, I, for once, said, "yeah, I know I look good" and truly meant it. I just hope I don't get cocky with the self-confidence now that I realize that I have some!

It's a small world after all...

I walked into the staff office to begin my shift. I noticed someone new, although she didn't look new to me, she looked familiar. I looked to the left and to the right of her as I talked to other staff who I had expected to see. Then the new one said, "What's your name." I said, "Jenny Starnes." And then I knew. She said, "Are you from Glasgow." Oh, it was so funny. None other than LaToya Franklin from Glasgow, KY was about to train with me in Pelletier. It was crazy. I never would have thought I'd work with another Glasgow person in my entire life. haha. We won't be working together very often because she is a temp and will be working in a different dorm, but it was fun to have someone to talk about Glasgow with.
Happy Valentine's Day!

A Day of Firsts

I think back over today and I notice several firsts:
-Today was the first time in two weeks I woke up before 11, had a bowl of cereal, didn't turn on TLC, cleaned my room, went to the gym, ate lunch, took a shower, and made it to work by 2:15. Amazing, I know.
-Today was the first day in a dozen or so days that I did not have a Dove chocolate. Those things are my current addiction, but I made it by just fine without it.
-Today was the first day I have ever been at work after 2 a.m.
-Today I had 5 missed calls on my phone after work. I haven't felt that important in at least a good month and a half.
-Today my mother sent me an email to the CORRECT email address for the first time in months.
-Today I was told, "You're beginning to sound like Ms. Hutchins (the supervisor of my dorm) and I don't like it" by one of the kiddos for the first time. Sounds like I'm doing a good job!
-Today I enjoyed tomato soup for the first time in my life.
-----AND-----
-Today will go down in history as the day Ms. Starnes was spit on for the first time ever. Yep. Spit. In the face. Mouth area to be exact.
I was in my second management ever tonight. It was a beauty. She is one of my two least favorite clients, and from the spit I think she may know it. Ha. She obviously doesn't like me and I almost chuckled as I had her restrained. I wanted to be like, "Look who is winning now?" as I held her to the ground. (You see, her and her peer beat me at a game of bball a few weeks back, and she bragged all night about it. ) The whole thing was scary, but the important thing is that the client and staff all remained safe. I guess the new definition of getting spit on is: taking one for the team. That's how I have to look at it, atleast.
Well, I am finally calmed down a bit now. I think there was something else I wanted to write, but I'll do it later.
Peace

Ms. Star

I don't know how to start this blog without just telling you a bit about my day. I started working at 12:30 today. I had first aid/CPR training until nearly 4. Then I went to the dorm to start my shift with the girls. I knew from the minute I walked in that it would be an interesting night, but it wasn't until hours later that I realized just how interesting it would be. When I saw non-Pelletier staff in my dorm, I knew that there was a crisis going on. That issue was resolved easily, and the rest of the day seemed to be on a positive track. With one time-out situation turning into another, I found myself four hours later in a time out room trying to convince a teenage girl how not to behave. I tried to tell her how yelling and swearing at a peer will only make that peer say more rude comments about her. I eventually had a minor breakthrough when I explained how in college I knew that my friends enjoyed getting mail in their mailboxes, so I sent them mail. No one had ever explained to her how this is similar with negative situations. She doesn't like being made fun of and her peer knows that. Thus, that peer continues to do the things that upset her. Hopefully she will try to walk away from future situations instead of displaying threatening behavior. Anyway, this isn't where this blog's attention needs to be spent.
After catching my breath from the above situation, a phone call sent me on my way to the hospital. I had been chosen to follow a client who was riding in an ambulance to the "hospital," basically "hospital" is meaning a mental hospital. Today in school, this client lost control and attacked a staff member. During her last court appearance, she was told that if she had one more account of assualt, she would be sent away. Today something happened. Our idea is that she had been doing really well, she had gotten off grounding, she had gone on outings, and she thought "this isn't like me, I have to do something bad." And so she did...
I was a little nervous on my way to meet her. I didn't know what to expect. I hadn't seen her all day, and I didn't know how she was taking the idea of being sent off. ("Sent off" is such a horrible term, and I feel bad to use it, but sometimes Maryhurst jargon carries into everything. ) My nerves were easily calmed when I walked into her room. She greeted me with a smile, and I gave her a hug. She seemed relieved to see me. She was a bit shakey with anxiety, and her eyes showed the tiresome day she had experienced. I made small talk with her until the therapist came in half an hour later. A little exhausted myself, I sat with stunned yet concerned and interested as she answered the therapist's questions about her past. From the sexual abuse, to learning how to get high off hairspray as a toddler, to taking her mothers sleeping pills in suicidal attempt, I had heard more than enough. I heard a 14-year-old say "I'm an alcoholic" today. That's big. Before Maryhurst, I would have never thought I'd experience that. Wrapped up in a horse printed blanket, I heard a 7th grader tell of her dreams of going to college and working with horses someday. Then she said, "But I probably can't do that because of my addictions. I can never stop doing drugs and alcohol." To hear a girl dismiss her own dreams after smiling. I can't give this situation complete justice. It is impossible to share the feelings I felt during the little interview. I wanted to hold her hand and be the mother she hasn't seen in 3 years. When I was given permission to leave, I asked her if she wanted me to stay longer. When she said yes, I easily agreed. When I said "Bye L----, I'll be praying for you," I meant it more than I ever have before. I wanted to walk her to her room and sit with her. I wanted to tell her I'd call and check on her tomorrow. I wanted to hear her laugh one more time. And then, I walked out the door, back into a world of not seeing her everyday. I walked back into that evil world that let her become the way she is. But I didn't walk back into the world of Jenny not knowing her story. I must have cried for 15 minutes on my way back to campus. All I could think about was how I may never see her again and how I may never know if she got better. I'm worried for her. I know she is in safe hands, but I don't know whose hands she'll be in when she leaves. I don't know if she'll finally succeed in her suicide attempts or if all her dreams with horses will come true. I consider myself a better person after my experience tonight. The experience completely put things into perspective for me. I am ashamed that I spent last night crying because prince charming hasn't swept me off my feet yet. Life is so much more than that. And I needed a reminder. Along with that realization, I take some great memories from that girl I said good-bye to tonight. I will always remember how the first day she met me and had trouble pronouncing my name she said, "I'll just call you Ms. Star cause you look like a star anyway." I won't forget the last night we laughed together. Last night when she was doing her laundry, I managed to convince us both through repetitive attempts that the top dryer was broken. We switched all the clothes around and then realized that I was pushing the wrong start button. I won't remember how scared I was when I heard "horror" stories about her, and I won't think about the times she called me a "fucking bitch." I'll remember all the times she made me smile and how many times I saw her make smart decisions. I can't handle the tears anymore. But I will conclude with: It was in the moments I spent saying goodbye today that I got a glimpse of why I do what I do. I didn't care for a minute that I had been at work for 12 hours without a chance to sit down to eat. I didn't care for a minute about that prince charming. I only cared about her and her treatment and her happiness and her future.

Me being 23!

Me at my 23rd birthday celebration, just in case I have a secret reader who doesn't know me!

Inspiration: round 2

I guess Tori's inspiration wasn't great enough back in October. It took me a few more months to really get inspired:
"there is a certain someone who must check my blogger every day. Sorry to disappoint you about the infrequent posts of late, but since you have all that time to read, maybe you should update yourself!" -- tori
Maybe that isn't exactly inspiration, but whatever it is, it worked. I've actually been given several nice requests to start posting again, but just haven't for one reason or another. I think I will only have two readers, so I hope you two spanish-speaking freaks enjoy my effort to entertain you with the random details of my new life as a college graduate.
My previous blog was focused on my experiences in the two G-towns: Glasgow and Georgetown. This blogger will take a huge leap in time, completely skipping my senior year of college. This blogger will not be an effort to catch up in time and dwell in what I may or may not have done over the past year and a half. Instead, I hope to share a bit of the happiness that I am experiencing in my new home in Louisville.
A great deal of my posts may have something to do with working at Maryhurst. No day is the same as the day before, and because of that, I have some good stories. Some are sad, some are inspiring, and some are funny only in retrospect.
Another substantial bit of my blogger may be focused on my never ending confusion dealing with the opposite sex. Men. Yes men. I am currently on a quest I like to call "figuring out men." With the help of literature and my courage to question, I will conquer.
I am also in great thought lately about where I am going from here and basically what my future holds. I have been asking myself lately, "Do I have ambition?"

Tonight when I started writing, I had no idea where this post was going, but my mind went wild after a conversation I had with my roommate, Eric. He was talking about a job offer he received today and how he should approach asking for a higher salary. Our conversation then launched into an unsettling realization. At my current job, I am making less than half of what I would be making if I was working in the field of my BS, mathematics. Furthermore, if I had have taken the social security office route, I'd be making a similar amount. Wow. Double wow when you look at some of the other figues we found in an "average yearly salary offers" packet that Eric had. But what was more discouraging is how he said, "if only they had have given us this when we were trying to pick our majors a few years ago." Honestly, what difference would it have made for me? I like to think that money douesn't matter, but it seems more and more that people judge you by how much money you make. Somehow the amount of money you make has become directly correlated with the amount of ambition you have. Sometimes I feel like I have no ambition because I can't see anything past me working with the girls at Maryhurst. I feel like this should be my temporary job until I move on to my "career." Because why would anyone aspire to watch a 17-year-old girl cry because she hasn't seen her parents in three years and then try to convince her that she is going to have a positive day? Why would anyone want to carry a girl into a 49-square-foot room, perry her to the ground, run out and hold the door behind you for your safety? Why would I give a hug to a girl tomorrow who called me a "fucking bitch" today? I don't know. Call it stupidity or call it love, but don't call it lack of ambition. It is weird.
And I think I am finished for the night.
It feels good to be back.