The past few weeks have been very strange indeed. Before spring break, Angela and I were so poor that we didn't know what to do with ourselves. We were sick of having to eat "poor people food" (our diet for the last several months had consisted of ramen noodles, pasta, and microwave burritos), and our savings which we had been so careful to keep and grow for the whole time we have been married was dwindling almost to the point of nonexistence. We had applied for a re-evaluation of financial aid to see if maybe we could get a few hundred dollars more to help pay the bills, but it had been a month in processing, and we were on the verge of catastrophe. When school started back, one day both Angela and I independently decided to check our campus mailboxes (a very rare occurrence for either of us), and we both found our updated financial aid letters. They were written in a way that was too complex for me to comprehend, so I continued on with my day and went to my next class. Angela, being much wiser to the inner workings of an award letter, understood immediately what the letters meant, and the huge impact that these small pieces of paper would have on our life. After class, I received a very excited call from Angela. "Our financial aid went through!" was all I could make out from her excited (and unbelievably rapid) exclamations. We met up at the financial aid office, and it was there that I finally found out exactly how much financial aid we were receiving. $9,000. What we had hoped would provide enough money to help us keep up with our bills turned out to be enough money to pay our bills outright for the next year if we wanted. We have been having alot of problems with 
our neighbors in the apartment complex where we live, and we decided that instead of paying our bills outright for a year we would invest that money in a good cause... moving. We looked for weeks before the financial aid came through to find a place that was inside our price range, accepted pets (because of our cute puppy), and seemed like it would not be one giant frat house. We hadn't found anything yet, but the sudden increase in budget sent us back on the search double time. After a suggestion from my Dad, we called his landlord to see if he had anything available. And he did! When we approached the house for the first time, Angela and I immediately gave each other a look which meant "Nope... not for us", but that all changed as soon as we walked inside. The inside of the house is amazing! It has an open floor plan of almost 1300 square feet (great improvement over our 950 square foot apartment now), 2 full bathrooms, 2 decent sized bedrooms, and 2 very nice yards for Marty to play in. While we were talking to Shane (my Dad's landlord) about specifics on rent and whatnot, the topic of us buying the house came up. Normally we would not even consider buying a house on our limited income, but Shane offered us a lease to own option which really fits our plans for the future. Basically we put down a down payment now (a small portion of the down payment usually expected for a house), and every month for the next 4 years we pay rent. A portion of that rent would go toward the balance of the house, and a portion would go to Shane as rent. At the end of the 4 years, we would make a balloon payment equal to the remaining balance on the house (which we would do by getting a normal home loan). This way we do not have to try and get a loan from the bank while we are still in school, and we are able to set the price of the house in today's market for a newly remodeled house in a developing part of the city. All in all it is a good deal.
There have been alot of exciting things happening recently, but there have been some less than exciting things as well. One of my classes at ETSU is Intro to Sociology. I usually love it. The professor is a crazy hippy lady who rants and raves about whatever comes to mind. Yesterday she decided to rant in a way that almost made me walk out of class. She was talking to several students in the classroom about what classes they were taking in the math department (where her husband is a professor), and asking which professor each student had. As each student told who their professor was, she would tell an amusing anecdote about that particular professor, or otherwise describe them in a positive light. Then one of the students in the class mentioned that they had Rick Norwood as a professor. She immediately began talking about what an awful person he is, and told us all about the things she had heard. She told us about how his children were taken away from him because he admitted to molesting them when he lived in Louisiana. She told us that he had been caught watching little boys change clothes in the locker room of a local water park, and she told us that he claimed to another professor that he had romantic feelings toward the 18 month old daughter of one of his fellow professors. At one point in class she even mentioned that at one point he had a son who was killed on campus. And then she continued ranting about how awful he is. AT ONE POINT HE HAD A SON WHO WAS KILLED ON CAMPUS I had been upset the whole time she had been talking about the things Dr. Norwood had done (and the possible implications of those actions on Jamez's life), but when she mentioned his life and death so flippantly, I almost got up and left the classroom. I felt like the wind had been forcefully knocked out of my lungs. How could someone who made such a huge impact on my life (like helping move all of my belongings out of my parents' house in one day to avoid detection) be mentioned as if he had never mattered? I still don't know if I am going to bring this up to the professor or not. I don't know if I can do it without crying.
Today was not so hot either. You see, when I was growing up in my father's house, I was constantly tormented by my step-mother. It seemed like she aimed to make my life difficult. If I ever did even the slightest thing wrong (such as not sweeping the floor he way she liked) I would be grounded for literally months on end, and there would often be severe physical punishment as well. Not to mention the screaming. Kathy could scream longer and louder than anyone I have ever met, and with such hate that most grown men would cower in front of her rage. And it rarely stopped. When I turned 18, I took the first opportunity I had and I ran. With the help of Jamez and Mikal I moved out, and was able to have a life of my own. This life however, was at the cost of a relationship with most of my siblings. I eventually moved to Pittsburgh, and when I was there Kathy went to jail for the first time. She was there for 3 months, but it didn't help me because I was too far away to spend any time with my family. 7 months ago however, Kathy went to jail again, and it seemed like this time justice would be served. I took advantage of the situation, and began reforging the lost relationships with my Dad and youngest brother. I spent more time hanging out with them in those 7 then I had in the previous 4 years combined. There were many things that my Dad discovered during that time that he had either overlooked when I lived at home, or that Kathy had hidden from him. He didn't know that sometimes Kathy would beat me with whatever she could find within reach (sometimes causing me to bleed if the object had sharp edges), and he didn't know that over the course of 4 years she stole literally thousands of dollars from me by claiming to put my paychecks into "my bank account". He learned that I was often denied simple things such as a decent lunch to take to school (or the money required to buy one), and he learned that Kathy would often attempt to provoke me to hit her when he was not around so she could have me arrested (which she never succeeded in doing).Yesterday all of the progress that I had been able to make with my family was brought to an abrupt stop. Kathy was released from jail last night on time served, and my Dad accepted her into his home with willing and open arms. He knew that she has hurt his children for years, and he knew that she had stolen relentlessly from his children (even taking out a credit card in my brother's name without his permission), yet he still welcomed her home as though she had been the only source of happiness in his whole life. This coupled with all of the emotion relating to Jamez the past two days have really hit me hard tonight. I feel like the only thing helping me hold on is Angela. She is always so supportive of me, and so unbelievably caring. Angela, I love you with all of my heart, and thank you for being my strength when I have none of my own. I love you
