Rant on this untrusting world of ours.

One of my biggest pet peeves in life is not being trusted. Because I feel that I am someone who should be trusted. I rarely if ever lie, and when I do accidentally, I worry about it for days, as Tommy can vouch for.

So today, when I was trying to buy some postcards from the gift shop downstairs (I'm in Hawaii, by the way), I got really frustrated when the cashier asked for some ID. I had only grabbed my debit card because I didn't want to worry about bringing my entire wallet down, and besides that, I've run out of cash. I told him that I left my ID upstairs. He said, "You need your ID."

6 postcards for a dollar. I said, can't you give me a break? It's only a dollar.

He looked uncomfortable when he said, you need your ID. I said, politely but firmly, that it was my debit card and it's only a dollar. He looked even more uncomfortable as he handed the postcards back to me.

I hate that the few people in this world who would steal credit cards and use them as their own have to ruin it for the rest of us. I realize that it's only a safety precaution and I could just run upstairs and grab my ID, but that's not my point. My point is, where is the trust?

Do I look like someone who would steal credit cards? A little girl part of an identity theft ring, really? Do I even look like someone who would steal my parent's credit card for the purpose of buying a dollar's worth of postcards? It's a little unlikely, don't you think?

But it's not only with credit cards that I've seen this happen. In my old job with Camp G, we had to check the parents' IDs for pickup every day. Every single day. And some of the kids were there 3 weeks, with the same old parents picking them up every single day. But we were expressly told not to release the kid if--even on the Friday of the 3rd week--that parent forgot their ID in the car.

Again, I realize it's all for safety. I understand requiring it the first few times. But jeez! When I've seen the same mom, I think by the 15th time I'm going to recognize her. Misplaced distrust.

Another example, again at Camp G. Kids don't get to share food, even when one of them has forgotten a lunch. Yeah, I understand the idea behind it. What if the kid eats something they are allergic to and dies, yada yada yada. But I think that, even at age 6, you know what you are allergic to. And you are not going to eat it.

Are they extremely afraid of lawsuits or what? Why can't we trust these kids to know what they can or can't eat? When I was that age, I knew that I had asthma and I had my inhaler and knew exactly how to use it. When I was just a little bit younger, I knew that I was allergic to milk, so I didn't drink it. I wasn't no "lactose intolerant" weenie neither. I could have died from my esophagus swelling up, and I almost did when my parents found out that I was, in fact, allergic.

Public schools don't have nearly as many precautions, and while I realize that things happen, that doesn't mean that we should feel like we can't trust anyone. On the flip side, if it's just about being worried about lawsuits, then I think that is wrong too. You're just covering your ass because you're a coward and you won't take the chance of trust.

It breaks my heart when my parents exhibit the same behavior. Like when my mom brings her bag up to take Communion because she's afraid someone is going to steal her bag in church. Or when my parents make me watch repairmen for the entire time because they might steal something. Or when my mom tells me not even to look at homeless people because they'll mug you as soon as look at you.

Legitimate fears, all, but maybe who I should really be upset at is that less than 1% of the population who causes us to have these fears. Why do you have to ruin it for everyone?

In the meantime, I'm going to continue accepting offers from random men to sit on their shoulders in the moshpit, because, while I might get slapped in the butt a couple of times, I will get one of the best views in the entire arena. (True story.) It might be stupid, and I might very well end up kidnapped or worse, but unless people give me a reason to doubt, I trust them. And I think everyone else should too.

On children. And my summer.

Okay, I love children. Please don't get me wrong. They're so sweet, and they're our future, and it breaks my heart everyday when I see parents dropping off and picking up their children. They hug them and kiss them, and it's so beautiful.

But I can't work with 1st and 2nd graders day in and day out for the rest of my life. Not from 7:45am-4pm (and sometimes to 5:30pm.)

I feel like I die a little bit everyday. I mean, it's a great experience and I'm learning a lot, but this definitely is not what I signed up for. I didn't sign up for having no lunch break for the first week, and after that only having 20 minutes everyday to myself. I didn't sign up for teaching kids how to share and cutting their projects and painting their faces. I didn't even sign up to work with 1st and 2nd graders. My job offer was for 3rd-5th graders, and it was only months later that I found out indirectly that I was to be working with a different age group.

By law, you are mandated to allow your workers 30 minutes of lunch and two 10 minute breaks if you work an 8 hour day. Which I do.

The first week was horrible. But it made me think, is it just the fact that I'm adjusting to an full time job? Or is it that I don't like working with that particular age group? Or maybe it's that I just don't want that close of a relationship with kids, that I'd rather see them a few times a day or even less? Or is it some combination of all of these?

It doesn't help that I keep feeling like I'm falling behind in school, because none of the classes I took my freshman year seem like they will apply toward the major I will eventually pick. And I wish I took summer school but I took this--this-- job instead.

I suck at confronting people. I wish I could just quit. But I keep thinking about the fact that I want to use this place as a reference (Why? I don't know. I mean, I don't want to do any similar summer camp jobs anytime in the future). But really. I don't need the money, I feel miserable, and I've had a good run. ... On the other hand, it is only 6 weeks. And it's hard not to love the kids. And I've got so many great stories now.

I don't know. I really don't. I wish I were working with older kids. I wish I were writing more. I think that the relationship I eventually want with children is that I want to entertain them. I want to write things like Wall-E and The Incredibles, but I can't deal with them on a 40-hour-a-week basis. I don't even know how elementary school teachers do it. I honestly have a newfound respect for them. I feel like going back to my teachers and thanking them for dealing with me.

I keep feeling that this summer is a mistake. And that I'm wasting it.

Hooray for self-pity parties.

Clean Break.

I have many places where I blog. I have a Xanga, a Livejournal, and a Facebook, and I used to use Myspace and a very old Blogger. I even keep a written journal.

For me, they have varying degrees of privacy, and I use them for different purposes. The main thing they all have in common, though, is that I don't try very hard to make sense. I just spew out whatever is on my mind and leave it there for whatever poor soul chooses to come along and make out my brain-smother.

I have decided that the time has come for me to at least try and be coherent. To at least try to write like someone will read the material. And maybe then I'd actually become a better writer, right? Ha ha.

Plus, I have a lot of baggage. My Xanga, for example, has been around since I was in... 7th or 8th grade. It's interesting to see the progression as I've, y'know, matured, but it's still really strange and kind of embarrassing to still have it up on the internet for anyone to see. Yech.

So here it is. A clean break. Let's see if it works out.