A Homecoming...of sorts...

This weekend, for my students, is a four day weekend. Notice I said "for my students". Not for me. While my little bra...err...angels get to sleep in and play Monday and Tuesday, I have to leave on Sunday morning and travel up to Pensacola, Florida (in the Panhandle) for a teacher's conference at Pensacola Christian College!

Now the funny thing is, I know most of my American college friends, when I mentioned PCC, had a shudder go up their spine. Yes, the very college we used to joke about at Bethany is about to be graced by my presence. But there are some fun teachers going, so it should be a grand time, despite having to wear a *gulp* skirt all day!

What's the homecoming part in this, you may wonder? Well, not a lot of you know this, but I used to live in Pensacola. I lived on the Naval base there from 1990-1993. So it is like a little homecoming to me. Not that I think I'll be able to go on the base or anything, but a chance to see some old haunts, maybe pass my middle or elementary school...cool options. It's weird in a sense, too, because Pensacola holds some great growing up memeories, but is also where my life started it's very steep downhill descent in the respect of my family and the role I had to play in it.

Pensacola is the place where my brother was born, my mother went to jail for the first time (and second and third times are in there, too, I believe). It's where I had a few good middle school friends, and where I met a lot of adversity. It's where I was ashamed of my family and the situation we were in, so none of my friends knew what was going on, because I refused to tell them. It was all-nighters at the youth center with my friends chasing around a "ghost" and, since I was the only girl, I had to go into the girls' bathroom myself, and you know how kids' imaginations are! It was the time my sister and brother and I had to go and live with my aunt during the summers, because mom was in jail and my brother's father had to work. It was there, in my sixth grade year, I missed over thirty days of school, because I had to take care of a newborn brother. It was a lot of things in a lot of ways.

That's a lot to happen in three years. And that's not even most, or the worst, of some that happened. So Pensacola has always held this weird place in my heart. It is a place I love, because there were some great times there. It's a place I hate, because there my life changed forever. So I face this teacher's conference with some anticipation, some apprehension, and a whole lotta "how am I feeling about this?" *sigh* It would all be so much better if I could wear jeans during the conference...