Responsibility...What's That?

Apparently I'm Not Perfect

2010-01-03T21:10:00.000-08:00

You know, people always talk about how it's so important to learn new things and I don't disagree. I think it's great to keep the mind active and all that jazz. It's just that learning new things is really hard. In the last four months I've learned to ride a monorcycle AND ski...and I use the term "learned" very loosely.

Today I put my feet in those skinny, metal trays and pushed myself down a mountain with meat pokers. And I did that willingly...intentionally even! It's okay if you call me crazy because halfway down the mountain I was pretty sure I was. So there I was...on a mountain about ten thousand feet above sea level with a couple thousand of my closest friends and the only way to find myself on solid, flat ground was to ski down. Talk about pressure. Many minutes and many streams of profanity later, I found myself gliding toward buildings and lodges and people in regular shoes. And that was a happy moment.

Learning new things is tricky and hard and sometimes very frusterating. I spent half the day in a mental battle, trying to force myself not to throw down my skis or throw myself down the mountain. But I think one of the hardest things about learning something new is maybe not the learning itself but how I react with myself during the learning process. I like to learn new things but I also hate not being good at stuff. As a result I, at times, might have reacted emotionally. I wasn't frustrated with my skis because they wouldn't help me stand up or with the ski lift that knocked me on my butt time after time. I was frustrated with myself for not being perfect...for being a flawed creature. How silly is that?

2010-01-01T14:08:00.001-08:00

The best part of this year so far is realizing that I can use Millard...the iPod touch I got as a strange and wonderful surprise from Santa...to type my blog. That means more blogs...and more spelling errors. Thumb typing is way harder than some people make it look.

So welcome to a new decade! How weird is that. I was just thinking about where I was ten years ago. Thinking about how different life is and how different life is from how I thought it would be. Wondering where I will be ten years from now. And then my mind gets tired of all the thinking and guessing. Of all the hundreds of scenarios that could be created, I'm sure I will find myself in one that I would never have imagined.

I like new years. I like showers too. And i think they are alot alike. I like washing away the old...even if I'm washing away the smell of something great like warm apple pie or the smell of the cologne belonging to someone I adore. I guess I like endings because that means I have a chance to start over again...not to erase the past but to put it just a little farther behind me.

So here is to a new year...a fresh, hot shower. Cheers.

Introducing Millard

2009-12-29T21:15:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here waiting for Millard, my super fun new toy, to attach to my thousands of songs so I can run up and down the street listening to something other than the same 12 songs on shuffle. I'm excited about this. I'm excited about music. But then again I always am.

While I spent a few days at home for Christmas, my parents drug out the few old video tapes we have of my childhood years. Apparently they really wanted to embarrass me. I realize that I was a child and, well, kids are just weird. Still, though, to see myself with the side ponytail and the funky shorts...I was less than thrilled.

Anyway, the particular tape I am thinking of was recorded by a foreign exchange lady who stayed at our house for a summer. I was eight and was sporting the side ponytail and rolled down socks. Hot. The lady asked me to introduce myself and talk about myself. I suddenly became camera shy so she started feeding me words like, "Do you like baseball? Do you like dancing? Do you like music?" And even at the age of eight I said, "Oh! Music! I like music!" It's something inside me. I can't explain it. And I'm excited to have it with me now...when I drive and run and walk around the house.

Thanks Millard.

Big for your Britches

2009-12-19T16:38:00.001-08:00

Make sure you realize exactly what the title says. Even as I was typing, it looked funny to me. I'm typically not one for profanity...or at least not today.

So here we are 5 days from Christmas and for some reason it just doesn't feel like Christmas to me. Maybe it's because the year seems like it's gone by so fast. Or maybe it's because my brothers aren't around to literally tickle me until I cry. Maybe it's because I'm married now and this is the first married Christmas I've experienced. Or maybe it's just because I'm getting old.

The other day Husband and I were talking about going to my parent's house for a few days over the Christmas break. My parents have had a bit of a hard year and I promised myself that I would make it home more often to visit them. Unfortunately I broke that promise. Somewhere life became too busy...just like it always does. And I got all distracted...just like I always do. The excuses to stay in my new home were just too plentiful...like they always are. So we are going to venture home for an overnight stay for the very first time as a married couple.

It's weird. Lots of things are weird about the situation. The whole "sharing quarters" is weird especially when my door is a few feet from my parents. And I think going home anytime, after living on your own and growing up, is strange. The moment I walk in the door I feel all my old habits rushing back over me and they are once again difficult to shake.

It's not that I haven't changed because I have. It's been six years since I moved out and a lot has happened in six years. I've changed. My parents have changed. Life is very different. But it's amazing how quickly those old habits reappear and how difficult it is to fight them off.

And yet, no matter how long it's been since I've been home, it still feels warm. It might not feel like home anymore but it still feels warm. Time has been kind and has erased some of my less fond memories, leaving more good than bad when I reminisce.

Sometimes when I go home, I feel like I've outgrown the place, like it no longer fits...like I'm too big for those britches. And other times, it's like that comfortable sweater that you forgot you had. When you put it on, it just feels right.

Control

2009-12-10T05:50:00.000-08:00

I have been getting up every morning, leaving the comforts of my deliciously warm bed, taking a shower, putting on my face, doing my hair and waiting. I wait. For an hour, sometimes more, sometimes less, until I get tired of waiting and I go back to bed. Why the waiting you ask? Well, I'm waiting for a call that will tell me I am needed at some school in some classroom to enlighten some little minds. It seems silly that I get up and get ready only to head back to bed but that's the way it is these days.

This has left me thinking about being prepared. I do it because I don't want to be rushing around if I'm needed somewhere. I want to be ready with the guns (figurative not literal) loaded. I realized that it's a litle weird to need to be so prepared because being prepared is just another way of saying you like to have control and I've realized that's exactly what I'm saying. I want...I need to have control.

Don't misunderstand...control isn't a bad thing all the time. It means you're on your game, you know how things should go and you are ready to make things go smoothly. It seems like it would be a great character trait. And it probably is. Unless you are me. I seem to let this idea of control run my life. It seems like I am constantly reaching out trying desperately to grasp control and because that seems to be how I live most of my life, I lose the fun. I want things to go my way and I get so distracted if I see things starting to run off course that I sometimes forget to find the humor in life...in the world...in myself.

It seems easy to say, "Well then, silly, give up some control. You can't control life anyway. It just happens." I would say to you, "I know." And I do know this but knowing that doesn't change me.

I think if I could give up some of my need for control, I wouldn't feel so stressed out about not having a job right now. I wouldn't be so worried when I see my bank account sinking slowly. I wouldn't get frustrated when Husband does something irritating. I wouldn't let those things bother me because I would understand that life is just life. It happens in its own way. I have to roll with the punches instead of trying to control how the punches are rolling.

Note Taken

2009-12-07T05:58:00.000-08:00

When I'm in the mood, I like to go back through my previous blogs from the same month in previous years. For example, I just looked through my blogs from the last few years during the month of December. I guess I didn't realize how incredibly depressing I usually am...or at least in the month of December. Holy crap. Even in 2005 I was all "Whoa is me" and jazz. And I was in college then! Before the real world actually started! I am a pansy.

This is something I should work on. Note taken.

Half-way

2009-12-07T05:36:00.000-08:00

Optimism is how I roll in most situations. I am, usually, a glass half-full type person. But I recently realized that there are times when half-way just doesn't count, doesn't matter, and just seems to cause more frustration.

I am usually the kind of person to applaud any effort because, in my mind, I never really know what's going on in another persons life. Maybe that half-effort is all they really have left in them. Who am I to judge? But maybe supporting that is more like encouraging that and allowing someone to not give their best. Maybe I'm an enabler.

There's no award for half-way making someone a lasagna or half-way doing the laundry. So you got part of the way there? Big deal. Try again. Sometimes, half-way just doesn't cut it.

Tight Pants

2009-12-03T17:18:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I have this insane and unhealthy urge to leave everyone and everything I know and run away...to Mexico or Alaska or somewhere else. Like the other night, for example, I got frustrated with husband so instead of talking it out like a normal person, while he was in the shower, I grabbed my keys and made a run for it. I wasn't going anywhere important. I wasn't going anywhere really. I could just feel the walls starting to close in and I knew I had to get out...to take a breath...to stretch my legs. So I drove down the street and ended up getting lost in my thoughts. He wasn't so happy to get out of the shower and find both me and the car missing. And I can't say I blame him. I wouldn't have had a joyous reaction either. But it was just something I had to do...for my sanity.

And today, I have the urge to grab Him, the dog and my favorite pair of shoes and just go. Where? I don't know. I don't care. I need to get out of this place where I'm trying so hard to find a job, to be a wife, to make friends...and it seems that I'm doing all to no avail. Depressing. I know. Not really what a person wants to read. But I'll tell you what. I'm about done with this forcing a smile and pumping my self up daily just to be shot down and weary at the end. I feel like I'm constantly trying on a pair of pants that don't fit. And it just makes me feel terrible. So...if you know of a place where the pants always fit, please give me that zip code.

Deep Thoughts About Cookies

2009-11-25T20:01:00.001-08:00

I've started this post three times now. One time I felt like I was writing something sacreligious. The other time I felt like I was rambling. So this time I'm going to try to do neither.

I've been feeling a little blue about the whole no job and loss of life direction thing. When I feel lost or sad or bored, I bake. Currently the kitchen counters are covered with cookies and bars and these brownie marshmallow things. Well today, during my blue mood, I decided to release the frustration through baking chocolate chip peanut butter cookies. I'm not a huge cookie fan. I have to be in the mood. Today, apparently, I was. So I mixed the batter and plopped those chocolate chunks down on the cookie sheet. I set the timer, carried on about my life and then, like any wonderful baker, I took the cookies out at the appropriate time. I have to say...they looked beautiful. All golden brown with that soft discoloration in the middle, telling you they are done but not too done. So I grabbed a cookie and a short glass of milk because that's what they do on tv. When I bit into the cookie...at that moment I remembered how cool life is. So today I'm glad for lots of things...like the fact that I can walk and see and do laundry. I'm also super glad for delicious warm cookies straight from the oven.

Dear Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Cookie,
Today you reminded me that life is delicious, bad days fade away and maybe a lack of direction is all I really need to figure out where it is that I'm going. Also, you are very tasty.

Mind-reading Robot

2009-11-20T14:14:00.000-08:00

I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone with the ability to read minds but some days I really wish I did. I wish someone could look at me and read my mind to me because I don't really know what's going on with it. Maybe it's just part of being a girl. Or maybe it's just part of being a crazy girl, but most of the time I feel something and I don't know why.

Husband will ask, "What's bothering you?" I will reply, "Nothing." I know something is because I can feel something inside me moving around, changing my facial expression from a smile to a frown. I just don't know what happens to be moving around. And he doesn't understand that not only do I block most emotions but I block the origins of most emotions so while I might be feeling something, I've decided to block out why I'm feeling it or where it came from. It's how I am and I'm not sure why. After a month of marriage with constant mood changes, shouldn't he know that by now?

But instead, he gets frustrated because I won't share my emotions and I get frustrated because he won't leave me alone to figure out what's going on inside my head. Today I decided that it would honestly be easier if someone could read my mind and tell me what I'm feeling and thinking so I wouldn't have to spend my time trying to sift through the wreckage. I tend to store things up inside so when I go digging through them, I run into all kinds of interesting details that I'd rather forget completely.

So when someone invents a robot that can read minds, believe me, I'll be first in line.

What About Ebay?

2009-11-18T19:52:00.000-08:00

Has there ever been a time in your life when you really just couldn't seem to find anything good about a situation no matter how hard you looked? Like maybe you dated someone and eventually got to the point where you could see no good in them. Even the common good things like, "Well at least he has good breath," or "He keeps his car clean," don't exist. In your mind, there was nothing good.

That point is dangerous. It's what I like to call the Negative Nancy point. See at this point, not only are you depressed to yourself in your own head but you also start telling other people how terrible things are for you. And eventually you become so wrapped up in your situation that you can't see the good in anything. Negative Nancy infects all.

I think I'm nearing that point...and not slowly. It's almost like I'm sprinting toward that point. Or maybe that point is sprinting toward me.

Most things in my life are cool. I have a house and a car and shoes and this super fun guy who totally digs me. But this one area of my life is turning me into Nancy. When I think about substitute teaching, my heart starts to hurt. My breathing becomes labored, only slightly but still. My neck starts to tighten. And my insides start to sink. I can almost literally feel them sinking deep down. I think if someone were to take a picture inside my body, things would be black. That's how substituting makes me feel. And because I have this huge, terrible feeling, it's starting to infect other things in my life. I only see Husband a handful of minutes during the day but even those minutes are tainted with dread for the coming day or frustration from the previous.

Usually I can shake things like this. I give myself the whole, "...means to an end" speech. But this I can't shake. This looming dark cloud that hangs around, dreading the next week and what it will bring, hating the week I just finished. People think I'm crazy because after all, it's just a job. It ends after eight hours. The problem is that those eight hours will start again.

If this were a guy, it would be easier because I would just break up with him. If it were a car, I would sell it. If it were an ugly pair of shoes, I would give them away. So shouldn't the same apply with this job thing? If I don't like it so much, can't I just get rid of it? Can't I, like, sell it on ebay or something?

Dear College Basketball...

2009-11-17T20:10:00.000-08:00

Dear College Basketball...
Welcome Back! I've missed you and the wonderful distraction you provide. Sometimes when I watch you on tv (especially in HD), I forget that my life is ridiculous. All my problems and worries fade away and it's like I'm right there in the arena yelling my face off.
To be honest, I'm not sure why I like you so much. I mean, I've never been good at basketball...or really any sport. And I don't watch it for the eye candy. Guys wearing face masks and teeth guards really don't cause a frenzy within. I didn't go to some fabulous school with a great program. So I don't know why I find you so fascinating...but I do. And I'm glad you are back.

Sincerely,
Your Devoted Fan

Committed

2009-11-02T21:24:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I face the demons again...and by demons I mean children. I am scheduled to substitute a class tomorrow. It's the first time since the time I totally broke down and started questioning the course of my life. Turns out that was only like a week ago or whatever but it sure seems like eons.

It's weird because this is what I was trained to do. I watched Pearl Harbor today, the movie with Ben Afleck. And I thought to myself, "Dang, they can't pansy out. They were trained to fight people in one of the worlds biggest wars and they did. Why the heck do I feel so beat up when I'm not even getting shot at?" That's when I realized two things...1)I was watching a movie and stunt actors were probably used through like the whole thing and 2)I feel beat up because I am beat up. I deserve better. I know I do. My little self pep-talk didn't get me very far.

You know that question that gets asked in almost every job interview? What is your worst quality? Stupid question but revealing. I've decided that if I were to answer honestly I would say that I am too committed. I get all wrapped up in my job...trying to save everyone, to do my best, to make everyone happy. And in the end it turns out that I am completely unsatisfied with myself and the work I have done. Most employers long for someone to be committed. I wish I could cut that tie. So that's my new goal...well that and to lose 7 pounds. I figure if I can be less committed to my job maybe that will save more committment for the things in my life that really matter.

The Giant Sore

2009-10-22T19:55:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to do it anymore. I decided at some point today. Probably between the book getting thrown at my face, the other teachers talking about my lack of classroom management skills while I was standing in the classroom and the stark realization that I hate this portion of my life. It's almost like a sore that I've let develop. I'm sure it started small, just a little frustration with my job. And then through the professional development days and the parent-teacher-principal meetings and the phone calls getting cussed out by parents, somewhere in that the sore grew and now it's monsterous. I can't ignore it anymore. I can't just let it keep growing. It's already affecting other areas of my life. The best thing to do, I think, is just to remove it. How crazy would it be for someone to live with a giant sore? You would smack them for not getting it checked out. So I'm doing pretty much the same thing...except that the sore is my career, my income. And removing that is dangerous surgery.

I don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe something. Maybe nothing. All I know is that I have no back up plan. I didn't create some easy out. I didn't double major. I don't have fun hobbies that I could turn into a source of income. I have...I had...teaching and that's it. That's all I've ever wanted to do.

My first year I chalked up my stress to the newness of the situation. Theory is much different than practice and I just figured the stress came from all the work I was doing just to break even. I was sure it would be better my second year. And then CAME the second year. It wasn't better. It was worse. More students. Crazy students. More work. NOT better. I was so stressed and fried and I felt so totally broken at the end of each week. I felt beaten and abused. I was sure that my third year would be better. But this is the third year and I didn't find a job. So I've been in and out of classrooms trying to convince people that I would be a nice addition to their school building next year. It seems that all I'm managing to do is expend all my energy and get students to throw things at me.

I can't have another awful year. I refuse to allow myself to have another awful year...especially when I can change it. So I will attempt to change it eventhough I'm not sure how. All I know is I need to remove this freaking sore. It hurts. And maybe removing it will hurt worse but at least I'll have one less weird growth on me.

Some People Just Are

2009-10-21T20:01:00.000-07:00

I have decided that some people just are. They are the way they are and they either don't notice or don't care that they are complete morons. Sometimes I wish I had been given the job of knocking people down a few pegs...telling them that they suck. Unfortunately that's not my role. So when I meet a jerk, I just hope that they have someone in their life to do that...to take them down...to make them feel just as bad as they make others feel. Because if I can't do that, someone should.

This is your pilot speaking...

2009-10-19T14:13:00.000-07:00

So...my life has changed and is changing and I'm about ready for a little constancy. Lots has happened. I've gotten married. I'm no longer a teacher. Lots.

I've been substituting and, honestly, I don't get paid enough. Some people might think it's like being a glorified babysitter but it's most definately the hardest thing I've ever done. Today, for example, was the worst teaching day I've had thus far in my career. A child ended the day with a concussion...literally. I was called to substitute for a week in a special education behavior classroom. I agreed because I'm always up for an adventure. THAT was a terrible idea. Kids screamed, cried, punched, yelled and ran into walls. And that was just the first hour of the day. I was there seven hours. And for the next four days I will be there seven hours.

The whole point of being a substitute teacher was to get my name and face into the school system...you know, impress people so they would want to hire me next year. The thing is, that's really not working. And I'm really not sure what to do about that. I took an online career test to show me what career is most compatible with me. Apparently I should be an airline pilot. At least then I could hide from screaming children in the front of the plane. For now, I hide from children in the bathroom. I lock the door and pretend that I'm somewhere else...somewhere really cool, which just happens to be anywhere else.

Jenga

2009-09-24T13:39:00.001-07:00

I have never been good at being dependent. I figure things out. And if I can't, I usually give up. That's how I do things. But it turns out that relationships are all about being dependent. You have to depend on someone else and you have to let them depend on you. It just seems like this is a set up for failure because that other person will let you down. They will. And it will suck. And you will be mad. And then you will question the entire system upon which relationships are founded...the system of dependency. And when you question that system, you are questioning the relationship and that seems like a shaky game of Jenga where in the end everything will end up falling down.

It also sucks to know that you will, at some point, let someone down. And they will be mad and they will start to question. Why is this the basis of relationships? Doesn't it seem like a system that is doomed to fail from the start? So either you depend on people and they let you down OR you depend only on yourself and live a terribly lonely life. Great.

Warm Feet

2009-09-14T19:53:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering, my feet are still warm. Well maybe not literally (I have bad circulation) but in the wedding sense, my feet are still warm. And it's a good thing because the countdown has begun. It is officially 25 days until I get a new last name. I'm fine with the one I have now but after 24 years, I figure a change wouldn't hurt.

Sometimes, like when I'm driving or something, I look down and my hand and see that I have something on my finger and I realize how big of a deal this actually is. Now, don't think I'm taking it lightly because I sure as heck am not. I just sometimes can't believe it's actually happening. I can't believe that someone would actually love me enough to want to spend the rest of their life with me. It's weird and mushy and not how I normally am but if you know me and you know how ridiculous I am, I think you are probably shocked too.

So, just so you know, my feet are still warm.

refriending

2009-09-03T18:58:00.000-07:00

So here's the deal...I don't exactly have a job right now so it seems like the title of this blog just became a very good fit. After moving to this new town and looking (really hard I might add) for a teaching job, nothing came around...or at least nothing that I wanted. So I am currently, um, unemployed. Those words make me vomit just a little.

The thing about me is that I am most happy, I feel most successful when I'm running around from one activity or job or obligation to another. I feel needed...wanted...like I'm an active member of something. And right now I have no job so I kinda feel not so needed and a little not wanted. This is all very new and different to me. For the past few years I've worked at least two jobs, sometimes three. It didn't exactly do wonders for my social life but I like to stay busy and back then I was.

Now, I honestly don't do much. I go to at least two interviews a week. I paint. I clean. I organize. The sad thing is I should be using this time more wisely. I should be doing things I've always wanted to do but never had the time. I really should and I wish I would. Instead I can't shake this feeling of gloominess. Or at least I haven't been able to shake it yet but I will keep trying.

So when I was complaining to my friends about not having a job, one of them said, "You just need to write. That's what you're good at anyway." So I decided that I should. And that's why I'm becoming friends with my blog again. Don't expect greatness from this...after all, I don't even have a job. But whatev. Writing always has made me happy. So this is me...refriending. And it feels good.

control

2009-06-18T05:56:00.000-07:00

I've decided what my problem is. Control. I want control. Even now as I sit here in my classroom during summer school, a time for kids to actually like learning, I feel like I have to have total control. No talking. Sit up. Don't fall asleep. Read your book. I've become this monster who wants to control things...anything I think.

And I think that's why I've been sabotaging the best thing in my life. I've been trying so hard to get some kind of control. I can't control my current job situation or the money I have coming in. And as a result, I've turned into a monster that can't even control my own emotions. So I try to control Boy. And then I realize what I'm doing and I fall so far the opposite way that he feels like I don't care. It would be easier if I wasn't a girl and if I wasn't crazy.

So I've decided that this issue of control is a problem. And even though I've decided this, I'm not sure how to fix it. The only solution, and I'm sure the best solution, is to do my best to give up my need for control daily. If only it was as easy as putting it in an envelope or washing it off in the shower. If only.

I'm hoping that after days of giving up my need to control something, anything, in my life, I will eventually return to being that person who has trust in things I can't see and who is cool with things I don't currently understand. I realize that point is a long way from where I am now. But I guess the journey has to start somewhere? Pretty sure this road isn't going to be an easy one for me. But maybe, just maybe, it'll turn me into less of a jerk.

T minus 18 days.

2009-06-09T08:20:00.000-07:00

It's like 18 days until my life changes...in a big way...for good. I've been putting off writing about this because it's still hurts a little and the weird thing is, it really shouldn't hurt.

For 7 years, I've intended to leave this town and now when my leaving is a mere 18 days away, the thought makes my stomach churn and my head spin. I've always thought of myself as the kind of person who can deal well with change, who sometimes creates change but a change like this is big. Not only am I moving everything I own (or at least the stuff I didn't give to Goodwill) but I'm taking my memories and I'm leaving my friends. I'm switching banks and mailing addresses. I'm quitting my jobs, both of them. My life as I know it, in 18 days, will be done.

I was thinking that people say this is me starting a new chapter but it feels more like I'm writing a new book. A book where I'm sensitive and emotional and attached. A book where I don't just do what I want and think about the consequences later. A book where what I do actually affects someone. This is WAY more than a new chapter.

To be honest, I think for a while it will be hard not to resent him. He isn't forcing me to move. No one is twisting my arm. I saw this as an opportunity and decided to take it. But I think when I'm angry or alone or hurt, I will blame him. I will blame him that I have no one around. I will blame him that I have no money. It will all start with me blaming him. Then the cracks in the pot will grow. And before you know it, the entire foundation is splintered. It's not that I WANT that to happen but I know how I am. I know how I work. And hopefully through knowing, I can keep it from taking place.

I'm excited. I'm ready to start a new book. I wonder what it will be like to see the guy I totally love every day, or most days at least. I hoping that I find in me more love than I ever thought I could possess. I'm hoping that with every day, I realize how much more I cannot live without him. I'm hoping that I become, just a little more, a girl who loves a guy. But I realize exactly how far I will have to go to make that happen. That love doesn't exist on the surface of me. That love doesn't just spring up. It needs to be dug out. So I think we will both have some work to do.

Today I'm feeling confident that this was and is the right decision. Tomorrow, maybe not. But today...well...there's nothing wrong with just living in the moment.

A Mug of Memories

2009-05-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

I only kind of believe in omens. It's kind of silly. I know that. That's why I only let myself believe in them a little. I don't get carried away or at least I try not to.

I have this mug. It's special. It's a big mug. It can hold a whole lot of coffee and it leaves just enough space for the right amount of cream and sugar. It's really nothing special. It has a moose on it or an elk or something. And it's all chunky...like it was hand-made. It's green and red and brown and big and rough. i guess it's ordinary...or it would be to you. But you'd think that because you don't know the story.

This mug does more than hold my coffee. As cliche as it sounds, it holds memories. This mug was given to me by Pitt...years ago...at Christmas. He didn't know what to get me and he handed it to me in some awkward gesture. We were standing in a parking lot outside a nursing home after visiting his grandmother. I was getting in my car to leave. He stopped me before I got in and handed me this box. It was brown and heavy and covered with a bow. I'm pretty sure his mom wrapped it. I opened it...there...in the parking lot and I saw it as so much more than a mug. I saw it as a way for me to remember him...to think of him every morning when I drank my coffee. And for years I have. Over time, I've found other mugs to use but that mug, the moose mug, stays on the back of the shelf. Sometimes I pull it out. The memories don't flood me like they used to. And I'm glad. They shouldn't anymore.

The other day I broke the cup. I was taking it out of the sink and somehow I hit it just right. The handle broke off and I stood with the mug in two pieces in my hands. I gently sat it on the table and just stared at it for awhile...wondering if this is an omen...one of the few I actually let myself recognize. I wonder if it means something. I wonder if it symbolizes the breaking, the end, of something old. I wonder if I should let the mug go. It could be repaired. I could glue it. But I wonder if I would ever trust the mug again. I wonder if I could ever really hold it by the handle. I wonder if I should. I wonder if I should leave the broken mug alone...walk away...and use a new mug. After all, a mug can't really hold memories...can it?

Lurking

2009-05-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

All day I've had this sick feeling. It's like something is living in the pit of my stomach, lurking somewhere within me, ready to pounce out at any minute. I'm scared because I'm not sure what this feeling means. I'm not sure if it's nerves. I'm not sure if it's just anxiety. I'm not sure if it's all in my head. But maybe it's totally legit. Maybe it means something.

See, here's the story. Last night I had two dreams that I could remember and me remembering my dreams is very rare. Dream Number 1...I had lice. I'm terrified of getting lice because I'm afraid it would ruin my hair. I'd have to buy all new stuff for my bed. It would be this huge deal. And from that point on, I'd be even more terrified of getting lice. So I woke up this morning with my head itching. Dream Number 2 was even more terrible. I was pregnant and I had a baby and the baby was a kid in my class and the baby/kid in my class totally urinated all over me and I just took it. I just stood there...maybe because it was a baby but maybe because it feels like that's what I've been doing all year. I've only told one other person about this dream. They said it might symbolize the fact that I feel like I've been getting crap all year. I have my own theories about what it means.

I guess more than anything, I don't like to remember my dreams. I overthink them and I've been doing enough overthinking as it is. I wish I could truly divulge all that's in me but I just don't think I'm ready to do that...not to anyone. Keeping it all in is a dangerous path to start down. I have pretty much had a Person for a long time now which means I've always had someone to talk to. But this time I can't talk. This time I think talking is more dangerous than keeping it in. And I'm afraid after I keep this in, it will be easier to keep more in and eventually I'll become some stone person without any outlet for my feelings or emotions. That's not who I want to be.

I guess for now I'll just sit...and scratch my head...and overthink...and feel that lurking feeling in the pit of my stomach...because that's what I do best.

The War

2009-05-05T21:02:00.000-07:00

There are some days when my head, the rational side of me, and my heart, the moral and emotional side of me, war to no end. They won't stop fighting and yelling and debating about anything and everything. I spend my minutes and days in some emotional turnmoil from the small battles being waged within me. Should I or should I not? Can I or can I not? Is this okay or is it against the rules? And what are the rules? Do I follow them because everyone else is? Have I lost sight of the goal because it seems that I'm the only one looking at it? Sometimes the black and white suddenly all looks so gray and it takes me a moment, or several moments, to realign my focus. And when I do, it seems that I've already messed things up.

Sometimes I wish I could be more emotional or more rational...one of the two...because the war between is sometimes too heavy.

It's official

2009-04-29T21:37:00.001-07:00

It's official...no...finally. I resigned. I turned in my letter of resignation today. My principal told the staff yesterday so it seemed official but it wasn't...not until that piece of paper went from my hands to his.

It was ironic how two years ago I parked in almost the same parking spot and walked in to get my contract. I remember being so excited. I still have the picture of me with my contract a few moments after I got it. I felt so important...so successful. I had worked so hard and finally had something to show for it. I feel like after 2 years, all I have are bruises.

I know every job has issues but I just feel so battered this year with all the situations that have gone on. I knew I couldn't handle it for one more year...not with bigger class sizes and a smaller staff. Also, my mom has been diagnosed with cancer. I want to be around to take care of her if she needs something. And then there's boy. I know that if I want this to be something...amazing...then I need to move myself into a closer proximity to him. It just has to be done.

This could all be a mistake. I could have just screwed up my life big time. That's a very real possibility. I have no place to live, no income, no job. I went from fairly secure to wondering how I am going to survive in about 3.2 seconds. The thing is I've taken very few chances in my life. I sometimes take calculated risks but I almost always know the outcome beforehand. This is a chance...a big one...the kind that could change my life. And I'm scared. I'm scared I just messed up. I'm scared I'll never find a job or a place to make me happy. I'm scared that I'll regret and I have too many regrets already.

The thing that makes me feel confident in my decision usually comes by 4:00 every day. For the last few weeks, 4:00 rolls around and something happens. Monday, an angry parent called after school. Tuesday, a kid brought rocks and rope and threatened to kill me. Today, a parent e-mailed me and said the problem with her daughter is the way she is being educated (blaming me for everything). Every day it's something. Whether it's a stolen $20 piece of jewelry or suspected abuse on the part of a parent...something happens to make my day not normal...to stress me out and make me worry. I can't say that I'll miss it. I can't say that I'll miss feeling like crap, feeling inadequate, daily. I realize I have a long way to go. But my confidence is shot. I have no more. I feel like I've been bled dry.

But tomorrow I will walk in with a smile on my face. I'll spend the day waiting until 4:00 and just wondering what is going to go wrong. Then I'll go home and mark one more day off my calendar. Sometimes I think I'll be sad when I'm gone. I guess they're making it easier on me...I guess.