Won't You Write the Verses on my Palm

Home for Christmas. I'll be back in Kalamazoo on Tuesday. Just in time to bring in the new year with people I'll probably not finish it with.

I made this mix for my family:

1. Violent Femmes- American Music
2. Paul Baribeau- Ten Things
3. Coldplay- Violet Hill
4. Iron & Wine- Boy With a Coin
5. Neutral Milk Hotel- In the Aeroplane Ove the Sea
6. Page France- Finders
7. John Mayer- Victoria
8. Rocky Votolato- Uppers Aren't Necessary
9. Sufjan Stevens- For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti
10. Nickel Creek- Doubting Thomas
11. Obadiah Parker- Hey Ya
12. Chris Bathgate- Sun Moon
13. The Weepies- Can't Go Back Now
14. The Corn Fed Girls- Pearlie
15. The Avett Brothers- Murder in the City
16. Ray Lamontagne- Empty
17. Format- On Your Porch
18. Eef Barzelay- Lose Big
19. Death Cab For Cutie- I Will Follow You Into the Dark
20.Foo Fighters- Home
21. The Avett Brothers- Will You Return
22. Sufjan Stevens- Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

I was going to put links to videos and stuff so that you'd listen to it. But I'm not going to. I have the songs. You should look for them. Every song is worth it.

Let's see... I'm thinking of applying for Teach for America. I haven't decided where to apply for. And I'm not even sure that I'll get in. I think they usually take people who have just graduated. But we'll see. I'm just excited to be working toward something.

I'm going to get healthy and stop being such a chubby lumpkins. I'm sure this sounds like a new year's resolution, but it's not. It's something I've wanted to do for a while and I've finally gotten the motivation to do it. I think I'll be happier and healthier and those things can't hurt. I'm making a functional work out schedule for myself that should be fun. I bought Dance Dance Revolution for Wii. I think that's a good start. I'm also going to curb my drinking a bit. Oh, and the eating. But I want to be healthy and reasonable about things.

That might be it for right now. Yeah.

-Theresa

She says "wake up, it's no use pretending"

So I think I'm tired of skirting around issues. I'm going big for lack of want of going home. Where is that anyway? Yeah, I know. It's written on me. But it's lonely there. I mean, if we're getting to the heart of the matter. Ha.

That being said, my limited reader base, I've decided to declare this blog and my life a "bullshit free zone" (BSFZ). In this BSFZ, I don't lie or pretend like things don't matter. I am honest but still kind. I am true to myself because, damn it, if I'm not, who will be? I won't be so fucking sorry for everything I do. It's not that I won't feel remorse. I am still often sorry for things that I feel I could have changed for the better but didn't. It's just that I think there are healthier things to feel than sorrow for things that are outside of my control.

That being said, Things I'm Not Sorry For:

Telling you to turn your music down.
Telling you how you actually come across.
Drinking tequila.
Caring.
Being honest.
Feeling the way I feel.
Being the person that I am.
Loving you.
Not loving when I wasn't supposed to.
Making mistakes I learn from.
Wanting.
Apologizing and meaning it.

We are in the BSFZ. Here, all that matters is that you are yourself. Here, if you don't give a shit, don't expect me to. Here, I live my life as I believe it is intended to be lived. Or at least try to. If that's not good enough for you, I'm not going to be sorry. Good God, I think what I would be is relieved to no longer have you in my life. What I'm saying here is that I'm going to start putting thought and intentions to action. It's all good and great that I want to be someone better. It doesn't matter if I do nothing about it.

One will spread our ashes 'round the yard.

-Theresa

Only love is all maroon

Um, I suppose it's been a while since I've written. I had my tests done. I got the less invasive procedure for a few reasons. I couldn't have been happier about it. My results came back normal, which is great. I don't actually want something wrong with me. However, this means there's only one solution to the problem and I have to accept being on medication for, well, ever. I'm going in to talk to the doctor tomorrow. We'll discuss the options. Maybe this will fix the crazy? Oh, and I'll be getting my allergy test done as well.

Sky is womb and she's the moon.

I researched some graduate schools yesterday. For publishing. All the ones I found are on the east coast. I suppose location doesn't have to matter. I think I may just be tired of the thought of what comes next. I was sitting in the living room a few days ago with my roommate and kept looking out the window because one of my friends was coming over and I hadn't seen him in months. I realized, thanks to the roommate, that it's not that I'm impatient. God knows, I can be a very patient person. I'm anxious. It explains the driving thing. And the whole unsettled feeling of what I'm doing with my life. I'm anxious about what might happen or what won't. If I know something is going to happen, I don't get nervous. I become full with anticipation. I am anticipating my future. But, man, I just wish the future was here already. I wish I knew what I really wanted. I wish I knew how to get what I really wanted.

Today, I think I will tackle looking at schools for linguistics. Rather, some time this week, I think I might tackle that. Publishing or editing is really something I enjoy doing. Okay, so is linguistics. But I can make a job out of publishing. After linguistics, or before linguistics, I'll also be looking more into school where I can get a teaching degree.

Schools for publishing that show any promise at all:

Emerson College in Boston, MA

Rosemont College in Rosemont, PA

The rest on my list have a minus sign (as in, I didn't like them) or a question mark (as in, I couldn't find any information about the program on the website). I'm just looking through a printed graduate school guide and know that there is more research to be done. I think if I looked into information science, there might be more to know. Also, I believe that there's a program at University of Denver. Otherwise, why would they have a summer program, right?

I worry too much. Soon, things will happen better than I could have hoped. All this anxiety will have been for naught. I wish knowing that that was true was enough to get me out of this.

Do I really want to move to the east coast?

-Theresa

But I have never been much of a drinker

and at this bar, they don't serve herbal tea.

I'm at Water Street Coffee Joint right now. Drinking tea, as it were. I visited home this weekend. It had been a while and I hadn't been home for Thanksgiving in four years. I should have just waited for Christmas.

I wasn't feeling well. Good thing I'm having some relatively invasive (for me) tests done soon, huh? Once this whole health thing is sorted out, I'll be pleased. Or less annoyed. At the very least, I know my mood will change. I was overwhelmed when I was home. The questions of what I want to do and what I will do seem unending. And I never have a good answer because I don't know. It got to be too much when it turned into "if you don't get a job soon, all that time and money you spent learning will go to waste." And maybe they mean well but I don't think it's necessary to throw one's shortcomings in one's face. Not when that shorter-than-preferred individual is your daughter. I cried a little, slept a little and got over it. I talked to my dad about that for a while. And he told me that my feelings of inadequacy are from within me and nowhere else. Well, it's a good thing he knows I'm crazy. Otherwise, that would have been awkward.

Right, I never really updated about the doctor. I'm not sure how much detail I really want to go into on this thing. Um. I was put on antibiotics for the cough because the allergy medication hadn't done anything. I just finished my five day "Z pack" and am still coughing. It's not as bad as it was one week ago and I suppose that's all I can really ask for. As far as other health issues go, I have to get a few tests done. One of those tests is an allergy test, which shouldn't be too bad. They will only be drawing blood to check. Good. I didn't want a million itchy pinpricks anyway. It's the other test I'm a little worried about. I'll be getting a call in about a week to set up an appointment for that. Not. Excited.

Perhaps because of the conversation with my dad or the general displeasure I've had with my life, I've decided to get off my ass and do something. I will plan my future. At least parts of it. And I will do it. I'm going to start actually looking at real jobs and potential graduate schools again. Really. And I realize what I need is not someone to tell me what to do, no. What I need is encouragement to suck it up and keep going until I figure out what will make me happy. And then I'll need a kick in the ass to do it. If you're reading, consider this your commission to do so. Please.

In general, I think I'm a person who needs encouragement when things get tough. Not always, I think. Just when I think I can't do something. Lately, that's been often. Lately, that's been more often than I care for. More often than I care to mention. I don't really have a newfound sense of self. I just want to get off my ass and be the person I know I can be. The person I want to be. I'm sure this sounds like something I've said or written before. And I might do nothing about it. But I'd prefer not to. Thus, I will do something. I feel something moving and I'm going with it. I'd like to think it's more than just a change in the wind's direction. Even if it isn't more than that, I'm moving anyway. And I feel a little closer. And I feel a little more disconnected.

Getting home and back was a series of unfortunate events followed by fortuitous events (read: blessings). I was going to take the bus home. I bought a ticket and everything and my roommate took me to the station at five in the morning. The bus drove by and I was propositioned by a Devonne. (I will elaborate in a moment.) I call my roommate and she picked me back up at six when I realized the bus wasn't coming back. I slept until nine when my dad texted me. This resulted in my trying to get on the phone with Greyhound and not succeeding. I did manage to wake up my roommate's boyfriend, however. He peeked in my room and asked if it was Detroit that I was trying to get to. (It was.) And was I having any luck? (I was not.) As it turns out, his parents were headed right that way. He made a phone call but there was no answer. So I got back into bed. A moment later, they called back and asked if I had any other options. (Okay, I could have driven but I've been a serious nervous wreck lately. Really, it was not an option.) He told his parents no without really waiting for my response. Yeah, so they turned around and were at my apartment within ten minutes, ready to take me, a girl they've never met before, to the other side of the state. My dad picked me up at a freeway exit near our house. On Saturday, a winter storm advisory was issued (rightly so) and my dad wanted me to get a train ticket back. The ticket was sixty-two dollars and I just wanted to make absolutely sure. As I was getting ready to type in a credit card number, I get a message from my friend Julia and call her back. In the midst of our talking, she mentions her friend Laura doesn't live far from where my parents are and could probably pick me up and take me back. As it turns out, she can, and does. Laura is a really great person. That all being said, I got to Detroit and back to Kalamazoo safely. Although, I suppose you already knew that since I ranted about being home earlier.

The short story of Devonne(s) (dεvIn) in my life is this: (And, yes, I have changed the spelling.) I attract a certain sort of male. The first one I really told friends about was named Devonne (total assumption as far as spelling goes) and the tradition lives on. One Devonne tried to pick me up at a job interview. Another one used the fact that he had a baby mama named Theresa as his bait. The interaction with Devonne at the bus station went as such:

(I had just gotten off the phone with my roommate and she was on her way to pick me up.)

(D)evonne: (Stares at me for a solid minute) Are you cold?
(T)Me: (Staring straight ahead and make no eye contact whatsoever) A little.
(D): Are you from around here?
(T): No. (Yes, I know that's a lie.)
(D): Where are you from?
(T): Detroit. (Where the bus is going!)
(D): I know a place that's warm.
(T): (Blank stare.)
(D): It's only about a block from here.
(T): (Pause.) No thanks.
(D): (Walks away, shouting about not going far from the station.)

Man, was I glad when my roommate showed up. I would like to point out that the main reason this interaction counts as a Devonne interaction is that I had not spoken to this person and gave him no reason to do so. Also, he fits all the other criteria. But I suppose I can go into that later. I've written quite a bit. I've got to get to calling a friend.

And please forgive me if I leave you feeling uninspired.

-Theresa

Will I Always Feel This Way?

Not if I sleep for twelve hours in one night.

I woke up in a considerably better mood today than I have been lately. I didn't hang out with anyone. I watched a movie, read a bit, wrote a poem and went to sleep. Great decision, I think.

I like the poem I wrote last night. Proud isn't the right word, but it's the first one that comes to mind. Too much Palahniuk.

I'm going home Thursday morning. Bright and early for Thanksgiving. I haven't been home for Thanksgiving since 2004. This will be interesting.

I found a month-long publishing program in Denver. It's almost exactly what I'm looking for in terms of training and whatnot. It's supposed to prepare people for jobs in publishing and help those in school for library/information science, among other things. The downfall? It's a month-long program that costs more than $4000. And no, they don't offer financial aide since the program is so short.

I'm actually researching programs and possibilities for my life. And I may even retake the GRE soon. We'll see. I wasn't happy with my verbal score. But that was totally my fault.

Potential things to go to school for:

Arabic Sociolinguistics
Publishing
Editing
Teaching
Library Science
Applied Linguistics
Professional Mix CD maker.

Now, where do I go?

My limited reader base, if you would, make me up a life plan and leave it in a comment. It doesn't even have to reasonable. Okay, thanks.

-Theresa

Searching for Reasons

And missing the seasons.

Went on a road trip, sort of. Spent more time on the roads than with people. Met some really great people but was in a very introspective mood. Learned my fear of driving is way worse than it was before. It had been a bit better. Now, it's way worse. I felt terrible because the friend I went with did all the driving. Really. I suck.

I really need to suck it up and make a choice and do something. Can I say that I'm tired of acting alone? I'm tired of acting alone.

I don't think our lives are meant to be lived alone. We need friends and people and love. Need. We need those things. And if I just move somewhere, I will have none of those things. If I stay here, same story.

I refuse to stay in Kalamazoo next year. And I won't move home. Isn't there somewhere I belong?

In bed.

How did I end up feeling this lonely? I need a hobby. Or a cat. Or tequila.

Seeing Jamie and Chris was great. I wish there had been more time. Coming back to work feels like a waste of time.

In the future, I would like:

a purpose.
a career.
a husband.
a family.
no debt.
joy.
to live in the petal house.
to be able to play guitar.
the ability to drive on the free way just like everyone else.

I feel worse about things when my shortcomings effect other people.

I'd say I was sorry but I'm just not sure for what.

On the car ride back, I wrote the beginnings of six different pieces. It might have been talking to Justin and Natalie that helped. It probably was.

The Avett Brothers show was great.

Oops. I guess I sound sad.

-Theresa

A reminder:

Take care of yourself, he said and continued. Because no one else will.

I never learned to count my blessings.

It's really easy to get caught up in a negative mindset. Today's truths are brought to you by things I like about myself and other random thoughts.

I am able to pick myself up after every heap I fall into.
I often keep my tears from falling out when I cry. When I am drinking, I cry more openly.
Talking myself out of things is not heard of. I both love and hate my ability to do this.
I am an awkward, awkward individual.
I wish I was closer to my family, emotionally.
I am honest.
I have started to hate analogies when talking about real life. Just use real terms.
I want to play guitar and I want to play it well.
Trust is strange. I think I have a hard time trusting others. In actuality, I trust the people in my life too willingly.
I love hugs. I need more hugs.
Chris Bathgate and Michael Beauchamp are both amazing musicians.
It's often easier to talk to someone you know nothing about. And who knows nothing about you.
Sometimes, I just need time.
There are a lot of things I'd give right now to feel content.
I would give everything to be content.
Should those be switched?

I feel drained by work. I don't know why I expected working all the time to feel any different than doing anything else all the time. I do wish I felt like I was working toward some sort of life goal. At some point, I did feel that way. At some point, I was.

Do we still talk? I spent a bit of time on the phone yesterday and that question came up in every conversation. Are we friends? Yes. On all accounts.

Noted.

Thank you for being there when I have needed you.

Two unfortunate truths in one.

Yesterday was not a day that began all that out of the ordinary. I walked to work. A friend needed a ride to her car so I walked back to my car between shifts in order to pick her up. On my way home, I (my arm) was hit by a car.

I am a cautious person. When it comes to crossing the road, I look both ways and plan the route with the least likely chance of getting hit. I lived in Egypt for a while, and if you know anything about crossing roads in middle eastern countries, you can imagine what that was like. Though I am a careful crosser, I usually depend on my own devices more than I do the suggestions of others for when it is safe to begin a journey elsewhere. I often ignore the robots. Yesterday, I followed the two other women who crossed the road and I believed the Light Man's insistence that my time had come to cross this street and be on the other side with him.

For these reasons, I was hit. The Man in the Green Car must have sensed I was following what others insisted rather then following my own instincts. I threw my arms out in protest of him going any further. I managed to cross far enough that, during his out-of-turn right turn, he only really hit my left arm. I leaned so he didn't wipe my legs out from under me. I stopped. I looked back. He paused and made sure I was still standing. And from there, we continued on the separate paths we had previously been following. The two women who had crossed moments before me were on the corner I'd been trying so desperately to reach in one piece. They asked how I was and, in shock, I assured them I would be okay. I just wasn't expecting it because I thought I'd been reading the signs correctly. I paused and I thought about crying. And I held it in because I always do. Always refusing to acknowledge I've been hurt. The Man in the Green Car will go on with his life. It wasn't in his plans to hit me and he will feel no remorse. Well, it wasn't in my plans to get hit but it happened anyway. And, of course, I am again changed. He might be more careful but will probably just chalk it up to a fluke in loss of attention to detail.

I am a cautious person. When it comes to getting hurt, I have highly refined methods of self defense. Yesterday, they meant nothing. Today, I am aware I have been hurt. The trying task of keeping the phone to my ear has served as a reminder.

Do nothing and life will happen anyway. React. At least that way, you are blameless for the outcome.

I am okay. I am always okay.

It's the after party.

It was a good birthday, I think. I got to celebrate with lots of my friends. And they came in shifts so I got to talk to everyone. I went to the doctor, put air in my tires and started cooking. I think I cooked for about seven hours straight. And I loved every minute of it. The menu included cucumber yogurt stuff, cucumber tomato salad, hummus, Mexican dip, rice, curry potatoes in red stuff, curry chicken, and a sort of stir fry. I ran out of the good curry. There was also cheesecake and candy. And booze. But I didn't make those things. I don't feel twenty-three. I don't know what twenty-three feels like.

Doctor gave me allergy medications and a cream for the thing on my neck. She also gave me instructions to get a full physical. Not excited. The thing on my neck is starting to go away. The cough is not as bad all the time. That's good.

It seemed like I had more to say.

After the party.

Had a good birthday party. Good people. Good music. Good times.

I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. My cough got worse. And there's a thing on my neck. Seems about that time I started taking care of my body and whatnot.

I'm frustrated with my jobs. I work at the writing center at a community college. I guess I don't like helping people who won't help themselves. It's not helping. It's doing someone else's work for them. There were quite a few people in today who just wanted me to do their work for them. Today, I played tough love and told people that I could only help them get the grade they were willing to put the time in for. If you don't care about the work you are doing, I won't either. Don't tell me you don't care what grade you get. I will send you away if there are other people waiting to be helped. That's not fair to anyone.

Other job... A guy came in and asked where a newspaper was. I showed him. His kid knocked about ten to fifteen other newspapers on the floor. He says, "I couldn't have done it better myself." He looks through the paper he wanted. And then throws it on top of the pile his kid created. Walking away, he says, "thanks for your help." To which I respond, "thanks for cleaning up after yourself."

A public forum is not a good place to complain about work. So, I'm stopping.

I was super grumpy today. And then Eana sat down and talked to me. Now, I feel better. Maybe I just needed someone to talk to me. We're getting drinks after work. That will be good. Also, I think it helps when someone understands exactly what you think and feel about something. Do you think I could get more vague? Maybe I wonder if things get better if anyone knows anything about stuff. Yeah, that was more vague, I think.

I'm having a birthday dinner tomorrow. I'm waking up, going to the doctor and then cooking my little heart's content. I bought all the stuff already. I guess it's not really dinner. It's more of an all day spread. Lots of food. Lots of love. I hope.

There's my general update of what's going on. Okay, bye.

-Theresa

Samson Went Back to Bed

Working at the library. There's a guy right in front of me listening to Regina Spektor. I am pleased. I didn't expect it either. It's a welcome vacation from the rhythmic thumpings that are usually going on. Actually, they're going on too. I can just ignore them better when Regina is by my side.

It's about that time I looked into a doctor, huh? Well, I'll get on it. I guess I get to keep my health insurance for one more year. I didn't make enough last year. Well, good.

The election? I didn't vote. Am I pleased with the outcome for the president elect? Yes. Do I want to keep talking about it? No.

I gave up on reading Rushdie for the time being and have moved on to Kafka. So far, I am surprised.

I am often surprised to find out the regard in which I am being held by others. A friend gave me keys to her apartment last night. Another friend hasn't canceled plans once. Another asked me to get his stuff because he was too busy.

My life has become too stagnant for my liking. I need more adventure. I think I'll need to make that happen on my own. I'm going on a road trip 20 November. Instead of going home. I think we're ending up in North Carolina. I wish I had another eleven days and seven thousand miles to travel. Those were a good eleven days. These will be a good three.

To encourage me to be more adventurous, I am trying to feel less bad about taking time off work. And deferring my student loans. I could handle the payments. And that would be all I could handle. So, I'm not going to do it right now. But, I will pay the interest. That will at least keep me from getting behind.

Birthday party on Saturday. Michael Beauchamp is playing. Quite a few people have RSVPed. I'm pretty excited about it. My sister is coming to visit too. Tuesday, I'm going to wake up and starting cooking. And drinking. Tuesday, I will be twenty-three. It's not the older that scares me. It's the directionless that does.

It's hard to find meaning in everything. Sometimes, anything. Should I keep looking? Or should I believe an old king of Jerusalem when he says, "Everything is meaningless"?

Apparently, the guy sitting in front of me is a girl. Oops.

I shouldn't be tired. Of course, I am. Maybe I'll just get back to reading?

Oh, The Avett Brothers are good.

-Theresa

What kind of camera should I get?

Things always happen when you least expect them. That doesn't make them untimely.

I'm in the market for a new camera. Mine was stolen in May. It's about that time I bit the bullet and invested in one. I mean, I guess I like the freedom of not really having to worry about taking pictures. But sometimes I just want them. Or I want to play with graphics on my computer and how can I do that without a computer? So, I want a camera. What kind should I get? All you technocrats out there should do the research for me and let me know, please. Thanks.

I found my list of life lists. Most of everything on them is still true. I should look those over and see what I'm going to do at the end of my apartment lease. Rather, I should figure something out soon and figure out what I'm doing with my life. Does everyone worry this much about what they're going to do?

-Theresa

Is it overwhelming

to use a crane to crush a fly?

Well, Halloween, you've certainly brought my fears to fruition. I am dressed as a crazy cat lady. Maybe I should have gone for sexy instead of accuracy. Walking to work, I realized I looked more homeless than anything. Grey sweatpants, long (to the middle of my shins) shirt/dress with a polka dot and floral pattern, white leopard print jacket, babushka, cat ears, gloves, plastic bags. Indoors, I'm also wearing slippers. With sheep on them. Oh, and I'm carrying around a stuffed cat. Yeah, one foot in the grave.

Due to health issues, I have been exuding overwhelming amounts of crazy. I thank and apologize to those who have dealt with me. I've been sleeping more and drinking less.

What difference does self-aware make? Just because I know why I'm doing or thinking what I'm doing or thinking doesn't make those things any better.

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey.

I talked to Justin and Natalie for about a half hour on Tuesday. It was good. It's always good.

I would apologize for who I am, but no one else does. And I'm not really sorry about it. I am who I am who I am who... For the most part, that's good enough for me. I've got coffee. It only ever treated me poorly when I started getting an ulcer during my last semester in school. Even then, it was not offended when I had to say no for a little while. It has fully embraced my return.

I wrote a new poem. I don't hate it. I have another idea. But just half of one.

-Theresa

Hundred Years

Hundred more

Unfortunately, I am a person with many defenses. I often find some I didn't know I had or had forgotten about. But I've got them. And I'm working on getting rid of them. The bad ones, anyway.

Today's list of facts:

I'm so defensive about the things I should do, when people ask questions, I tell them what I think they want to hear.
I want to get married.
I want kids.
I want to stay at home for the first couple years and take care of them. Or not.
I'm okay being the "supporter" and am getting used to the idea of being the "supportee" in a marriage.
In a relationship, I want to be pursued in the least creepy way possible.
I have a hard time with all these things because I'm trying to balance what my family says I should be and what society says I should be. They seem to be exact opposites. (I spelled that wrong but I have a secondary click region on my trackpad and was able to fix it without hitting ctrl first.)
I've spent so much time trying to avoid affections or settling for the wrong kinds of love that I'm afraid I'm getting it all wrong.
I miss the sunshine. But I love the wind.
Even though I don't particularly enjoy driving, I love road trips.
I've been particularly bad at holding words in lately.
I'm surprised that it's been difficult to find more people to play Settlers with.
It's been longer than a month since I went grocery shopping. And, potentially, did laundry.
Reading you is more difficult than I had hoped.

Potential job plans I've been considering:

1. Pick a state. Move there. Get a teaching degree. Teach.
2. Get into Georgetown. Get PhD in Arabic Sociolinguistics. Make this list again.
3. (Thanks to Kensey) Get into UofM's Information Science program. Become a librarian. Pick a state. Move there. Librarianize.
4. Get a job at any random Starbucks. Be a barista forever. Transfer every now and then.
5. Find someone else's dreams to leech onto. Follow.
6. Drifter.
7. Write forever.
8. Pick a city with an Apple store. Get a job there. Help people with computers. (It's okay, I'm laughing too.)
9. Somehow, become a research assistant and follow teams around assisting with research.
10. Find someone to pay me to travel.
11. Find a school for publishing. Get in. Go there. Become a Copy Editor or and Acquisitions Editor.
12. Become a booking agent for a music venue.
13. Groupie.
14. Vice President.

We'll see where this takes me.

My computer? Wonderful. Except it thinks I'm in GMT and refuses to believe otherwise.

-Theresa

A faith, restored.

Yesterday, I received a phone call from the Apple store I took my computer to. Jeff, a manager there, decided that after looking at the multiple case reports on my computer, a new computer was in order. That's right. I'm getting a new computer.

I had the choice between the MacBook White or the new MacBook because I had put so much extra money into the machine I bought before. The choice seemed relatively clear but I spent the night thinking about it anyway. I also consulted (read: IMed) a friend about what he thought was best. New aluminum MacBook it is. I don't mind making an hour drive when what I am returning with is better than what I dropped off.

So, Apple, thank you. I'm sorry for having doubted you.

The jerk of an associate? He's getting talked to. I don't want to get him in trouble. He's not going to be.

Jeff, the manager, went to Western and his fiance's name is also Theresa. As I write this, he is starting the data transfer that will take twenty hours. I will have my computer tomorrow.

Oh, and I was instructed to call up Apple Care and ask for a refund since I still have a year's worth of service. They'll refund a year's worth of what I paid since the new computer will already have a yearlong warranty on it and it doesn't make sense to transfer the time. And I can still buy the new warranty for student pricing.

In all honesty, this is not what I expected. But I am pleased (elated) to say the least. Thank you again, Apple, for realizing what needed to be done to both satisfy and keep a customer. My faith in you is restored.

-Theresa

Apple, I expected more.

I took my computer to Grand Rapids yesterday. There is an Apple store in the Woodland mall. Yesterday, I lost most of my faith in Apple. Today, I gained a bit back. But it's a bit of too little, too late.

The "Mac Genius" I worked with yesterday was more anxious to get to lunch than he was to work with me. I understand. I get it. I worked in retail. Sometimes, you just want to get to lunch. Okay, really, the second I got to work I was thinking about going to lunch. But when people had issues, I at the very least feigned an interest in whatever it was someone was complaining about. Even if I couldn't possibly care less. That was my job: pretend to care, even if I didn't. Especially if I didn't.

I handed my computer over to said Mac Genius and spent the next five minutes in awkward silence at the counter. "Do you have a good backup of everything?" Yes. "Why are you here today?" I wanted to drive an hour out of my way so you could tell me nothing was wrong with my computer and send me back with the same computer. That gas money and time was just burning a hole. Or, there are continual problems with my computer and I have an open case number. I was hoping you could look into the problems and get me the new computer I was promised as a part of my warranty. (Silence.)

Five minutes later, he tells me that that's it. Um, so, what do I do? The Best Mac Genius Ever told me they would call me in a few days. So I got some lunch and in my car and went back to Kalamazoo. Actually, I turned to the guy to the left of the first guy I was talking to and asked him all the questions the other guy seemed far too busy to answer. Then, I got in my car.

I decided to call on my case number anyway and let the woman know what happened. She called back while I was at work and couldn't answer, of course. I called back this morning... No answer. Left a message. She finally got ahold of me about an hour ago. I told her what happened. That I think it's ridiculous that I have to keep driving an hour for them to tell me nothing is wrong with the computer. When, clearly, there is something wrong. She called, put me on hold, called the store and filed a complaint with the store. They will be shipping me my computer overnight via FedEx after they fix it and call me. I was again assured that if there's another problem, they'll replace it.

What did the Mac Genius write up for me? That they were going to replace the camera and look at the Airport. I thought that the last time there was one more problem, they would just replace the computer. Well, no, not really. Now, if there's one more problem, they'll replace it. But, really, is there anything else that can break on my computer? Is there anything else an Apple store can tell me they're going to replace and then not?

I am displeased. I am not certain my next computer is going to be a Mac. There is just as much run-around as with PC. So, maybe they answer my phone calls. And make promises. But what difference does it make if nothing gets resolved?

One more. Okay, really this time, last one. Sorry about before, this will be the last one. Promise.

Really? How do computer companies get so far ahead?

Apple sent me a survey. I filled the box with words. They asked if they could call me. I said yes, before five PM, please.

The second guy I talked to? After I asked what the computer would be replaced with, he said the newest version of my MacBook, what they're calling MacBook White. When I got my computer, I paid an extra three hundred dollars to get better specs. It brought the price of the computer to $1500. Now, the same computer, with twice as much memory and RAM is $1000, base price. I can't quite tell yet if I'm pissed about that.

Not like it matters. I'm sure things will work okay until the day after my warranty is up.

I shouldn't care as much about material things, I know.

-Theresa

If you're going to lose then

Might as well lose big then.

At work. Library.

At KVCC today, had some old regulars in. The Peacock in particular always keeps things interesting. Not good. Not bad. Just interesting. Kristalynn knows. We have ourselves a regular old farm over there.

Kalamazoo is choking me. I feel suffocated. Two different things, I know. Both having to do with the loss of oxygen. It's freezing. It's stifling. How many more adjectives do you think I can come up with? Part of me wants to succumb to all Kalamazoo has to offer. Part of me has. The rest of me wants to grow out of this place. The part that knows better is telling me to move on.

If I had a million dollars I would pay off my debt, give you some and then get on a plane and glance back but not long enough to come back.

I know why I went to college. I went because I was supposed to. And to have a reason to move away from home. Western fulfilled both criteria. I remember when I was five and I wanted to be a teacher like my dad wanted to be a teacher. He got there. I didn't. Changed paths. Prematurely, it seems. But I didn't come to college to fall in love and get married. Or to find a career. Or find God. Nor did I do those things. (Not that I would have minded had those things happened.) I'm so unattached it disgusts me. I'm single with two part-time jobs and a relationship with Jesus that I can only describe as weak. At least lately. On the Jesus, I mean. The single and multiple part-time jobs is really just par for the course.

Thoughts on the rain:

I think my favorite place to be when it's raining is inside a car.
But not as the driver.
Tea makes a rainy day perfect.
I never really hated the rain. Just the memory.
I like summer rains. Especially when the steam rises from the pavement.
I don't like wet pants.
I never don't want hugs when it's raining.
I could use a glass or bottle of wine.
Blankets and arms make the best shelters.

If my heart is my home, why do I feel so out of place most of the time?

I'm going to Grand Rapids tomorrow. The Apple store should have answers and a new computer waiting for me. The iSight problem happened again today. I was guaranteed a new computer if that ever happened again. So, I guess that's that.

I'm going to start reading Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children.

If you think I should read a book or listen to something, let me know.

-Theresa

This isn't me

This isn't who I am.

Sometimes, life is just easier as a robot. Not better. Just easier.

I read some poems I'd written in the last couple months. They're not good, per se. There are a few lines in each one that I like. It makes me wish I was disciplined enough to turn the words into something... better.

I'm great. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry, I wasn't trying to convince you.

I just watched Dan in Real Life again. I saw it when it first came out. Is that just how it works? You see something you want and you just get it? Little to no work at all? If that's so, I'm quitting.

No, I'm not. No matter who I am, I don't want to be a person who has life happen to them. I don't want life to be just a thing I go through. I want to make the most of it. I suppose I don't really need to know what that best is ahead of time, do I.

Fine, I won't be a stupid robot.

The neighbors upstairs are either a) serenading their son or b) listening to Paul Baribeau. I can't tell because that's how bad the singing is . And I don't know Paul Baribeau's music well enough. Regardless, the strain in the voice makes him (the neighbor or Paul Baribeau) sound sincere. Deliciously terrible. Like thinking about the taste of the sprinkles in your ice cream.

I'm putting my fingers in my ears and going to the living room.

-Theresa

I know what I know

If you know what I mean.

We killed him. Collectively, we did everything we could to ensure his death. We succeeded. By the end of it all, it was common knowledge that we needed to join forces or die. We joined forces. We died anyway.

Working on another mix CD. Somehow, I'm lacking inspiration. The mix is too sad to give away.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Ignore every emotion, always. Back. Embrace most emotions, sometimes. Forth. Pick and choose.

I could write you a letter. Instead, I'm working on a story I had been working on before. Not sure of the title. Or where it's going. I certainly know where it's coming from.

I think I may be going to Barking Tuna Fest tonight. I feel like I'm coming down with something. I know I'm coming down with something. It's never stopped me before.

Too much I. Too much apology. Aware. Acknowledged. Mildly apologetic.

-Theresa

The Clumsy Pigeon

Pigeons are often regarded as rats with wings. But I love them. There's something magical in their waddle. The strut. Whatever it is, I can't look away when I see them.

I was not stunned or surprised in the least to find that the rustling to my right was a pigeon clumsily landing in a pile of drying leaves. Birds are supposed to be majestic creatures and this one can't even manage to stand on its own two feet. I smiled. I felt for this graceless creature. I felt a cross-species kinship. I can't even manage to get out of a car without hurting myself or somehow tripping. The image of this winged creature is still with me. I imagine that it looked to see if anyone noticed before flying away. I hope that it grows confident enough with itself to just laugh it off next time.

My love for pigeons is rekindled.

-Theresa

Things I would rather be doing than working right now:

Napping.
Hugging.
Drinking.
Watching a movie.
Pursuing a career.
Taking a shower.
Taking a walk in the rain.
Watching Heroes.
Chewing on glass.
Playing guitar.

Some of these things are more practical than others. I live in Michigan. Chances are, that rain will be snow soon. I just forgot how good it feels to be doing things you want to be doing.

Maybe I will sleep early today. But I don't have to work tomorrow until three. Three! I suppose I could sleep early and then do all the other things on my list.

On the bright side, my friend Kathy is moving into town. I think we're playing tomorrow. Maybe going to O'Duffy's to see Who Hit John? or Harvey's to do whatever happens there.

I'm not doing a great job of keeping a positive outlook while at work, am I?

Also, I'm going to try my hand at not swearing anymore. Again.

And the toner is "very low."

Edit: I shook the stupid toner because if you do that, you don't have to change it as often. I got stupid toner all over me. So much for being very low, huh?

-Theresa

At work. Again. Hey, maybe someone can start paying me to write in this thing and work can be this blog. Anyone? No? Okay.

Well, she did it.

I'm supposed to call Starbucks back in another two weeks. So, we'll see. Maybe they won't hire me until after Christmas and I won't have to go through the internal battle of more time with family or more time at work. Wouldn't that be great? But then I would probably feel like I needed to spend more time at home.

I talked to my sister today. She wants to get rid of the tattoo on her arm. Or at least part of it. I couldn't be more proud of her. It's really a big step in her life, I think. Baby steps. Ironic since she just started walking again. Anyway, we had talked about getting tattoos together in July. It seems it may be a go this November. She's coming out to visit for my birthday probably. Our cousin Angelina will probably come too. I love my family and I regret not having the emotional capacity earlier in life to get close to them all. But here I am, making amends. Or something.

That being said, it's time to start figuring our what I will say now. I've never been good with the visual design.

Oh, right. There's another hardware problem with my computer. You know what that means? I should be getting a new one. After talking to no less than four people today, it was decided I have a hardware problem and was told that instead of calling with my case number, I should just go to a store because they're more sympathetic that way. Also, rather then getting a refurbished one, I'll probably get a newer one. I don't even care if it has Leopard on it. I just want my computer to work. Do you think, that since they lowered the price, I'll get a MacBook Pro instead? Yeah, I don't either. Regardless, I have to find the time to drive to Grand Rapids and back during store hours.

Does anyone want to drive to Grand Rapids and back during store hours with me?

Jesus loves me. That's for sure.

Thank you, CocoRosie.

I think I'm hungry. And I'm not tired anymore. I think I should start cooler mornings off with tea. It's more like home than coffee will ever be.

You feel like home. The good kind. The kind engraved in my skin.

I could tell you. But I probably won't.

I started listening to Iron & Wine again thanks to the car rides this weekend. And now I can't stop. No one died Sunday. That I know of.

-Theresa

When you remember.

I sometimes forget that the past stays where it is until you bring it into the present. It's got this residue laced within it. Sometimes it's easier to wash off then others. Sometimes, the smell reminds people of. Sometimes that's enough.

I remembered I did something stupid. More, I never forgot. But such is life. Pack up. Move on.

It was a good weekend. I often wish my parents had cared more about nature. I suppose they were products of their environment. I was. And then I moved away. I would like to think I am no product. Creation, maybe. Product, no. I would like to think I can grow out. I think I can. I would like to believe it's possible.

My stupid mouth. You bet. It got me in trouble.

We live in a world of transactions. Money for goods. Time for theories. Love for hope. Memory for memory. If you then I. I would like to grow out of this. I don't always need something in return. I usually don't. But happiness and joy. Aren't they ends to a mean? I am happy because.

Don't love me because.

Under my skin. I can't taste you yet.

Yet. Bold. Defined. And not. Guaranteed eventuality. Can you count on that?

Can you count on me?

Can I count on me?

Back by popular demand. I am pulling the covers back. Over my head.

I think about the abstract idea of future too much. And I think about the present so much that it becomes surreal. And I consider the past so much that it belongs to someone else.

-----

Friends. Friends.

Friends. Friends.
New and Old.
Some make Warm
and some make Cold.

-----

I haven't heard Him enough. I haven't listened hard enough. I know. Maybe I can fast from assumptions and dragging. I want to know where I'm going. But Drifting, the kind I've been doing, I don't think it's as bad as I thought before. The problem isn't that I'm drifting. It's what I'm allowing to control the wind. New Wind. Really, same wind. New resolve.

I'm the same soul I've always been. I'm just seeing it a little differently now.

I think I'm going to look up songs. And then print them. And the practice. And practice. And play these words from my hands and my mouth. And can we trade, please?

And I will let you in.

-Theresa

Like a little bee.

I forgot how much I hate all day work days. I've been working since nine this morning. I will be done at ten this evening. I try to keep a positive outlook while I'm at work. It keeps me from feeling like I'm wasting time/life. Blah blah blah.

I think maybe I shouldn't blog when I'm in this mood. I want to sleep. Or drink. Or drink to sleep. Tomorrow I'm working 8:30 to five and then going to Ludington. I'm kind of excited.

The light at the end of today's tunnel:

I am going to Ludington tomorrow.
I will be a co-owner of Settlers of Catan soon.
I don't have to work at all on Sunday.
I won't be in Kalamazoo at all on Sunday.
Creeping is like second nature to me.
Today's work day is over in less than two hours.

(R.I.P. the memory of words that do not necessitate repeating.)

I definitely shouldn't write when I'm in moods like this.

-Theresa

I waste a lot of time when I'm at work. Because I can. And I don't like it. Not that this isn't wasting time. But at least it gets my thoughts out of my head.

I thought I was going to Grand Rapids on Saturday. As it turns out, Grand Rapids is a stop. To the Ludington area.

Breathe and I will extract a meaning into existence.

It's sort of strange working at night. Mondays and Wednesdays my work day doesn't start until 12:30. Tuesday, five. Thursday, three. That's why I can have another job. What am I going to do with that time? Stay up until five? I mean, I could. I would. But that can't happen all the time. So, I'm going to be responsible and focus my energy on things that are at the very least relatively fruitful. I'm going to pay off my stupid debt.

I decided not to defer my loans. As much as I don't want to pay them back right now, I know that I would end up using the extra money rather than saving it. Not that that's terrible. It's just become important to me to get out of debt. And I want to be able to do it in sooner than ten years from now. I will have just turned twenty-three when I have to start paying off my loans. Which means that if I'm never late with a payment, I will have paid everything off by the time I'm thirty-three. If I get a job that allows me to save enough money, I am looking to cut that back a few years. I suppose it's mostly dependent on when/if I go to graduate school.

Seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to do with my life?

I'm less tired today. Less delusional.

I took you down a notch. But I had to.

I worry that I will follow and call it a plan. I'm not sure if I think that's okay. I'm not sure.

Today, I know these things:

My computer is functional.
Listening to Neutral Milk Hotel is like waking up after a bad day, realizing nothing has changed and moving on.
I worry too much.
I'm afraid to make decisions because if I fail, I have nowhere to land.
Sometimes cutting people out of your life is the best decision you can make.
Sometimes letting new people into your life is an even better decision.
I like the way my fingers feel after practicing guitar. I wish I could share the sensation.
I have not received enough hugs.
I am not too old for this. I am just old enough.
I am not too young to understand. I am too old.

Different day. I had to finish reading a math test to a student yesterday. So I didn't finish. But this post talks about matters in terms of days. And today is a different one. Back date.

-Theresa

That one about the things.

I got the battery in the mail. It didn't fit in my computer. They sent me another one and it arrived the next day. It works! So maybe the first Mac Genius wasn't an idiot. But I was still right about over heating issues. And that's what matters. Monday, I caught a glimpse of my power supply cord. The plastic casing? Coming off. I called. They're sending me a new one. Today, it stopped working all together.

A running tally of the things on my computer that have been replaced:

Hard drive
Mother board
Keyboard
Track pad (twice)
iSight
Battery
Power supply cord
Its soul

If all goes well, this should be the last thing I need. Sure is a good thing I bought a warranty, huh?

I feel like the people I've been hanging out with lately don't expect anything of me. And I love it. I'm not tapped out. It would be that I have half the amount of time obligated to things. So every commitment doesn't feel like a tightening noose. I like that I'm not supposed to be anyone. I can be who I am and that's enough. Did that come out wrong? Not sure I care.

Damn, I wish I could figure out who I am. Anyone have any ideas?

Michael Beauchamp is playing my birthday party. The party will be 8 November. I am excited by the thought of a birthday show. Though his music isn't exactly danceable music, I like the idea of the show being the focus of the party. Oh, and me.

As of this coming weekend, I will have joint custody of Settlers of Catan.

Oh, in five days, I am to call back a Starbucks and ask for an interview. I'm pretty sure I already have the job unless I screw up something huge. Which I shouldn't. But I might. I was trying to quit drinking coffee. But now it's free. So, really, I can't say no to that.

What am I supposed to do with my life? Deliberate. Leave comments.

I am formulating new tattoo designs in my mind.

I'm shaking a little bit. I don't think it's caffeine. It could be the cold. It could be the two hours of sleep.

I could be your Queen of Carrot Flowers (part 1, 2 & 3). I promise, I won't put a fork right into your shoulder.

I've had two compliments about my shirt today. Brown and blue. Don't doubt my commitment. Then another comment about my smell. Today, the barista told me I smelled nice and ten put my coffee in the wrong cup. I flustered him. I'm okay with it. Yesterday, I was told I have a particular smell. Which I know. I've smelled pretty much the same for six years. I smell like apples. My deodorant, shampoo and hair products have changed. The apples are eternal. Take a number like five. Times ten. Times ten again.

Did I hear correctly? Is Neutral Milk Hotel going on tour?

Spaghetti. I'm okay with it. Yesterday, you called yourself a pancake. I could see it.

-Theresa

Further Adventures with a Mac Genius

So, I had taken my computer in to the Apple store about a month ago. I was told the mother board was swapped out. I was also told the problem with the iSight was fixed. About a week ago, I turned my computer on and the little green light was blinding me with its insolence. Last night, I tried to burn a CD while running on battery power. The battery was full and the computer shut itself down after about five minutes of running. I immediately called Apple to sort out the problem. The first woman I talked to wanted to direct me to a certified Mac specialist in the area. (The closest store is an hour away.) She was really nice but I carefully explained to her my frustration with having purchased a new item two years ago and having to regularly get things fixed. (I've had the iSight looked at about four times, the keyboard/trackpad have been replaced twice, the hard-drive was switched out and mor recently, the motherboard was switched out.) At this point, she said she would call a higher up and see what she could do.

Fifteen minutes later, she called me back because I decided I did not want to wait on the line. I was connected with another woman, Melissa, who walked me through some diagnostics after asking me all of the "now, are you sure you're not an idiot at computers" questions. (Do you put the computer on blankets or directly in your lap?) (No.) I assured her that I did not do those things and she had me run some diagnostics. She then told me that they were going to send me a new battery, free of charge. It should be noted that the last guy from a month ago wanted to charge me the full amount of $129 because he thought my battery was a "little worn down." This woman was certain there was something bigger going on. I mentioned my iSight woes to her as well. When she heard all the problems I was having, she said that if there was one more problem with my computer after the new battery was installed. If there is one more problem, I will be getting a new computer. At this point, I don't really care about iLife 08. What I would really love is a computer that I don't have to have repaired on a monthly basis.

Will they send me a refurbished computer from two years ago? Or will I just get the same "generation" computer with the same specs (and problems?)

I'm just excited to have a computer that works again. The new battery comes on Monday or Tuesday. A little part of me hopes it doesn't work and I just get a new computer. Okay, a big part.

I can assure you, I have treated my computer well. No bathing or dropping. It sits atop an old geography book so the fans can breathe. I have loved it well. I hope it loves me back soon.

-Theresa

I can't think of anything creative to blog about. I'm sitting at work (KVCC) alone right now since it's the first Friday of the semester and there aren't really any papers due yet. I mean, what is a writing center for but to edit a student's paper ten minutes before it's due? I'm listening to one of my Pandora stations that includes Bonnie 'Prince' Billy and can't get over how good some music is.

Music might have been one of my first passions in life that I can remember. Other than candy and wanting to be friends with people. Can you blame me? Candy is delicious. Oh, and books. I love books. I've been trying to think of the things I enjoy doing and the things I'm actually passionate about. If I can market those things, I can make a life plan. If I can make a life plan, maybe I can stop bitching about exactly how much I don't like my current station in life. I'm actively pursuing a life I am happy with, I swear. Yesterday, even though I hate how money rules everything, I made a stupid budget. That way, I can only blame myself for not following stupid money rules. Stupid, money. Anyway, where I was going with that is that I want to get out of debt. I have student loans, of course. But I also have a huge credit card balance because it also has a year's worth of tuition on it. Sweet. So, the plan? 1. Defer loans (my monthly loan payment is more than twenty percent of my monthly income). 2. Pay off credit card in ten months. 3. Stop bitching. People have it worse. 4. Go to the beach.

So far, I have a budget and a mediocre plan. Oh, and drive and some other things too.

I must admit: it's strange not being a student. When I get back to my flat at the end of the day, I don't have a million things I need to do, usually. I don't have homework. I don't have to worry about finals. Well, except for from the frantic students coming in to get their work edited. Oh, the stories from this place.

Right, I think I'm going to read. Thanks for following my spaghetti strands.

-Theresa

A sum of one's parts

I'm at work. Always at work. There is no internet at my apartment yet because I still don't feel like paying for it.

Those of you who know me know I have a difficult time appreciating myself. I don't accept compliments well. I don't know where to put them. I'm not always self-deprecating but I definitely do it more often than I care to think about. Or admit. More recently, I have been reminded of something I used to believe. Now, I'm about certain.

My physical persona is more attractive to females than it is to males. Often, women are telling me of the parts of my body they wish they had because they find them attractive. I suppose it's a bit of the grass is always greener. The following is a list of my body parts that have been complimented by a woman saying "I wish my X was like yours":

Hair (the curls and thickness)
Lips
Complexion
Skin tone
Hands
Chest
Butt

I have very much not let these things go to my head. In all honesty, like all girls who are lame, it's hard to believe these things from people who are not... well... boys. It's stupid, I know. I have a body girls like. The more I think about it, however, the more annoyed I get. Less for the fact that guys don't notice but more for the fact that people like my PARTS. I would like to think that I am more than just a sum of my parts. I am a real person with real thoughts and emotions. Taking a step back, it should be noted that my actual body shape is not what some women want for themselves--no, just parts. It is not my face people want; just the shape of my lips and the color of my skin.

I would like to think that I am more than that. I would like to believe that under the parts that people peg as things they want, there is someone people want to get to know. I want to believe that that is more important.

I suppose I should start by believing these things first. And then start getting better at accepting compliments.

-Theresa

How I beat a Mac Genius

I'm not good with electronics. I drop things. I don't understand computer-speak. I touch my computer keyboard without washing my hands. I know just enough to get me through what I'm trying to do but often need someone else's help if a problem comes up. Really, I'm a computer engineer's worst nightmare.

Regardless, I haven't had the most luck with electronics. Once, a friend (Justin) had told me of a teacher he had in high school who thought she had a forcefield that made electronic devices not work. I'm not convinced that I don't have the same problem. My first computer was an HP and purchased from Best Buy. I would not recommend either of those choices for anyone else in the future. Almost immediately, I began having problems. The thing was heavy. It was later affectionately (cruelly) name "Doorstop." The fans ran constantly and it was all I could do to keep that stupid thing from crashing. I now know that the blue screen of death isn't a once-in-a-lifetime type thing. Oh, no. That screen will not be limited to showing itself only once in a user's lifetime. I digress. Best Buy sells warranties. What they neglect to tells those purchasing such warranties is that they only cover hardware. If you drop your computer down a flight of stairs and the screen cracks? Covered. If your computer melts because it overheats? Covered. If your computer continues to crash for reasons unbeknownst to you? Not covered because they "don't cover software." This computer was the source of a lot of heartache in my first three years at school.

Best Buy has made me cautious and weary of computer retailers. Thus, I bought a Mac a little less than two years ago. I bought a MacBook and was very pleased. It was relatively new on the market at the time and thus, had its own quirks. Anyway, due to what I can only assume were overheating issues, my hard drive crashed. I took it to Western's computer help desk because it crashed mid-semester and there was no way I could get to Grand Rapids and back within the school week. I'm not surprised in the least that there were residual problems because the girl who checked in my computer didn't know what I was talking about and the guy who was working on my computer didn't believe me. I was promised a memory extraction. They later said it was impossible. I have a feeling they just didn't want to try. My problem was not with the computer itself (though, I was less than pleased with the fact that it crashed). I was again made weary by the people who were supposed to be helping me.

That's why, on Tuesday when my computer started acting up again, I stayed calm and collected and decided to take my computer to an Apple store when I came home to visit and leave it in the hands of someone capable. Not that I wasn't going to bring it with me anyway. My computer is, unfortunately, a part of me. Anyway, I dropped it off, told the guy the problems I was having and he told me it would be a couple days. I'm assuming this is because of back-to-school. I received a call less than two hours later. They had run the diagnostic and found the problems I had mentioned. However, he didn't think it was an overheating problem but a battery problem. For a moment, I was going to accept his explanation if only for the fact that the Mac geniuses are just a better breed of people than the Geek Squad. (I'm still shaking my fist at Best Buy.) However, I pushed on. Though I believe that my battery is worn down, I also believe that there were problems the less than helpful people at Western might have overlooked. Right then, the guy agreed to run an overheating diagnostic, as per my request. I didn't have to pay extra and he just conceded and tried it! Well, said he would. This same technician also told me to just flash my student ID were I to purchase anything else from the store. I swear, he told me to. Anyway, with a promise that they would look at it soon but that there was a long wait, I wasn't holding my breath.

This is how I beat a Mac Genius:

I received a phone call at nine this morning from the Mac concierge. Apparently, they had run the diagnostic that night. They found that there were overheating problems. Lots of things were going wrong because of it. And thus, I am awesome. They also fixed the iSight problem I had been having for over a year now. (It turns on when I start my computer.) The guy over the phone last night told me I could solve the problem by turning my computer off, taking out the battery and waiting a minute. This, I knew. I let him know that I thought it was a problem that it was turning on in the first place. So, they looked into that too. And replaced a part! The computer gods are smiling on me. I was right and guy on the phone was wrong. I work at the tech desk at the library and finally feel qualified to do so. Because I beat a Mac genius. Suckers.

As for the theory about the forcefield... Electronic devices I have owned in my life that haven't worked properly:

My HP (though I believe no one has had one to work properly.)
My first, second and third cellphones (no signal, POS, just plain sucks, respectively)
A CD changer I had in high school (it would often not play the CDs)
My first car (Chevy Cobalt. There was later a recall on the electronic systems)
My MacBook (see above)

On the other hand, printers have mostly taken to obeying my commands.

This victory has come from my lack of trust of computer technicians. But Mac loves me and had my heart before this moment. I now know of their eternal true love for me. They believed me! And, they aren't charging me extra for surprise things that my warranty doesn't cover. Because it covers everything but water damage. I don't shower enough for that to be a problem, really.

-Theresa

Things I've finally decided:

Well, working at the tech desk at the library has afforded me a few more benefits than were provided while I did shelving. For one, I can do this. And I get paid more. You can't argue with logic like that. No, you can't. I also wasn't supposed to work today and was called in. Four hours doesn't bother me so much. Plus, it's closing shift. Not terrible seeing as my bedroom may as well be a boiler room. That makes packing a little on the hellish side.

I've come to write here to let those reading know about the decisions I have more recently made. I was going to go month by month in Kalamazoo and just stick around until something better came along. This was a great plan, in theory. The best place I found was in Portage for $325 a month, everything included. It was a bedroom in a house but the woman who lives there is rarely there. This would have been ideal were I still working at Old Navy. Unfortunately, both of my jobs are downtown and the prospect of driving that far daily doesn't sound appealing with the gas prices. Plus, I think, and I think this thought held more weight, if I lived further away, the chances of me trying to socialize would decrease. I would hermitize. The thought depressed me. Honestly, once it starts getting super cold and dark early, I'll probably be driving to work anyway. The neighborhoods aren't the safest...

Which brings me to what I have decided to do: I signed a lease with a roommate in another house on Locust. It's closer to Lovell this time. It's great and cheap. The landlord seems accommodating. The girl is someone I work with but rarely see. She works in A/V and I work upstairs now. She seems really nice and down to earth. Since I barely know her, it'll probably take a while before there are issues. That's the hope anyway. I am still looking for jobs elsewhere and I have informed her of this (Marita is her name, by the way). She said she'd help find a sub-leaser.

How I feel about it: Well, I could've made a worse decision. I could have moved home with no job. This would have made my dad happy. He made it a point of telling me so. I love my parents. I really do. But moving home just didn't seem like a logical sanity decision. It was definitely a logical financial decision though. I'm sure I could have found a high paying entry level position serving coffee. Sometimes, I regret not moving home. I could have just picked somewhere and moved there. Unfortunately, I don't have enough money saved up to really do this. I mean, the dream is there. The logistics of it require an illogical risk. However, I feel, in some ways, that I have merely settled by staying in Kalamazoo. I have two okay paying jobs. In order to keep my head above water, I don't think I can work less than forty hours a week between them. I have decided to look for a third job in the area that might pay more. Silly, I know. But I know I just have to do what needs to be done.

I know that I can be something better than what I am right now. I just have to figure out how. I just feel... Stuck. It doesn't help that I signed a lease. Plus, people who are smarter than me and got degrees that would help them get jobs regardless of extra-curriculars and overall charm, are getting job offers left and right. I don't really have connections with jobs I actually want. Now, if I wanted to work in a cell-phone store, the world would be my oyster. Unfortunately, that is not the case.

Is it really possible to feel both completely disconnected and stuck at the same time? Apparently.

Oh, my new apartment lease starts 14 August. The one I'm in ends 1 August. I will be homeless for two weeks. So will my stuff. I don't mind. Marita? She's best friends with Michael Beauchamp. If you're friends with someone who makes music that good, you have to be cool.

Right?

-Theresa

On a Monday Evening

I'm at Biggby Coffee right now. I recognize this mere notion is offensive to some. The free coffee provided me by a very wonderful barista makes it possible to overlook certain sins.

I was thinking about lives in transition. This is one of the first times my apartment leases don't end. In fact, I don't even have another lease. In ten days, I will officially be homeless. I mean, I can always move back in with my parents. But, really, I've worked hard for the sanity I have managed to salvage in recent years. I'm not always well-prepared. In fact, I am often ill-prepared. I don't know why this time should be any different. Well, it is a little different. My hesitation in having signed a lease stemmed from an intense desire to be somewhere else. The need to sign a lease comes from the fact that no one wants to hire someone with a BA in English. There are two places I could potentially live right now. They are both allowing me to live on a month to month basis, which is great.

So, on this Monday evening, though I should be packing, I am not. Because the temperature in my apartment is reminiscent to a level of hell. Or something. (I'm back at my apartment now. Biggby's closed.) There's always something so final about packing. I don't like that feeling. I have trouble with both sides of commitment: grabbing on and letting go. It's why I stay with jobs I hate for so long.

Last night, Wessam called. For those of you who don't know, he is a friend I made in Egypt and the cousin of a professor. He made the time I spent in Egypt bearable. He is a wonderful person. Upon leaving Egypt, I just sort of assumed I would never see him again. Like he was a person from a past life. He'll be in the U.S. as of 6 August. We've mostly kept communication through emails. For those of you who have a received an email from me, you know how in depth they usually are. Which means, if you've given it any thought, you know they take a bit of time to write. Anyway, I guess I was just thinking about how bad I am at keeping in touch. Maybe that's what this is for. For the more general "this is what I'm thinking." Continue to expect emails or phone calls for "this is what I think of you."

Do you think it's possible to change over night? If it was possible, I would be the following things:
Neat
Not a procrastinator
Healthy
(x) pounds lighter
Able to stay awake at movies
Less nervous
A better driver
Able to stick to a budget
Employed and in a job I don't hate

These things, among others.

I don't think I would change my awkwardness. It keeps me entertained.

-Theresa

A New Beginning

I've decided to start a new blog. I've been blogging since there were only a few options rather than a few logical options. (You still needed an invitation to have a livejournal.) I've decided that a better version of me should also require a better blog host. So, here I am.

Here, I will place thoughts, occurrences, sentiments.

I graduated with a BA in English. I have minors in Arabic and Comparative Religion. I have two jobs. I made more as a high school graduate. Such is life. I find what is standing in the way of me and a life I am pleased with is not a lack of dreams. Nor is it a crappy economy (though that doesn't help). I am quite aware that what is making me stand in my own way is fear. So, here I stand, figuratively. I am taking a stand (sit) to make myself a person I am not only proud of but a person I love. Not just the way I've been willing to love. No. That real love they sing about in songs. You know, the love that makes the words hurt on the way out. That makes it sound like a cry rather than a lyric. That love. Painful. Poetic. Beautiful. I will find it one day.

In me.

What stands in the way of that is a fear of being something different. I've decided to shoot for a new me rather than settle for someone I used to be. I will falter. But, this time, I will not fail.

-Theresa