27 February 2009

Contact, part two

I feel it necessary to say that I haven't stopped calling people in order to test anyone. And I didn't write the last post to make anyone feel bad. I was just feeling too connected. Like I was pouring too much of myself out. So I drew back. I think people get used to the roles they have in relationships. I was the Contacter. So I knew if I drew back, I'd have a few days of introspection to myself. I don't like being in that role all the time. I mean, everyone likes to feel invited along every now and then. Actually, it's worked out really well, the not calling. Sometimes I think I really enjoy being social and with others so I don't have to be introspective. It's been time well spent. The time "away."

I need to find the happy medium. I need to find it in time spent with others, time spent thinking and over thinking, how much I call people... All that and stuff. This isn't coming out eloquently. I guess I just wanted to say that I wasn't doing this as a reaction to anyone but myself. This is all in the hopes that I continue to grow. And I think I am.

In other news, asparagus really does make your pee smell funny. Huh.

25 February 2009

Contact

I stopped calling people as of Saturday night. The thing about not calling the people I'd been spending large amounts of time with is that none of them have called me either. I'm not really a one-sided kind of person.

You and me, we're not good for each other. Or at least, you're not good for me.

I've always wondered about people who don't call others. I used to be one of those people. I would just wait for people to call me. I'm not sure if it's a level of control or a relinquishing of control. I mean, it could be that you don't call people because you want others to call you will fully thought-out plans that you can then decide if you want to be a part of or not. Or you want nothing to do with the decision making process and take some of the better sounding opportunities as they arise. Or perhaps it's the ability to blame one's social shortcoming's on another person. I think that's why I used to do it. I thought I was too awkward and people didn't really want me around and that was proved by no one calling me. Really, I think, I didn't want to be rejected. Really, I think, it's just one more excuse.

Right now, I don't feel bad about myself. I think it's a testament to the relationships I've built. Both past and present. I think I'm okay with it. I think I'm okay with who I am. I'm not perfect and neither are you. But I know who I am. For the time-being, of course.

I wanted to write some profound thing about how if you want to matter to me, you should let me know. Or if you want me to care for you, you should do something about it. But that's not how it works. If you want me to care for you, continue being the person you are. If you want me to appreciate that person, keep doing the things you do. If you want me to tell you, well, there may need to be some level of contact. No, that's not even true. Not really. I've got my drawer full of letters. To you and to everyone else. Whether you get yours on not depends fully on the necessity of that letter being sent.

In the wise, oh-so-patronizing words of an old friend: "the phone works both ways." I'll be leaving soon. If we can't stay in contact in close proximity, there's little hope for later. It's not cynicism. It's experience.

I think.

23 February 2009

I am not even

A reflection of myself. In your presence, I am indistinguishable. For better or for worse or whatever.

I tried to get away from here but I had to ask you to drive. Ironic? A little. Unfortunate? More so.

I am lost inside of my intentions. More, my intentions are lost inside of me. They are lost on you. The opportunities for clarification are lost or not presented at all. Watch them all wash away.

But this? This is outside of you. Let it go. It is not a part of you. It is not you. And if you do not let it go, you are letting me go. This is the letting go.

20 February 2009

The thing about rainy days

Is that they just drag you down. You follow each rain drop like you think you're supposed to. All of the sudden, you're being sucked down a drainage hole like it's where you belong. The news? It's not where you belong. The world's residue belongs there. Each of us as individuals might be made of things we don't want to be made of but we are not residual. We belong here.

I belong here. I belong Home.

قلبي بيتي

I forgot. How could I forget? I'm the only one looking at my back. Looking for it. You will have the option of watching it go. Because I've decided to. Go, I mean. I've decided to go regardless of whether I get the teaching job. If I have to work at a Starbucks, I will do it. If I have to figure something out with the university there, I'll do it. It will be where Home is. There, I must follow.

There are no grand gestures or glowing signs leading the way. You just have the take the steps forward. I have to take the steps forward. I will not be sucked down. I've been inscribed on because the words there are true. My words are true. I've always looked for subtleties. I should continue to do it. Though, I wouldn't mind a grand gesture on my way out of here. It just wouldn't be my direction. It wouldn't be Home.

This Home here? It's growing. It's always ready to take more in. Take more on. I hope that remains true.

It's snowing today.

16 February 2009

Overheard

I couldn't be more elated at overhearing a girl who can't be more than seven say the following when she discovered she had been logged off the computer when she reached a two-hour time limit:

Oh no it di'in't.

She asked if she could have more time. I had to tell her no. She informed that it was time she bought her own computer.

Here's hoping.

I've been doing a lot of apartment cleaning lately and I love it. I can't tell if I'm burned out in general or if I'm burning out on certain things but the cleaning helps. The roommate is gone for a few more days. I am looking for a subleaser so I can pick asparagus in May.

Arizona plans are under way. We're going to schedule times to look at apartments while we're out there. But scorpions are gross. In my head, they are like cockroaches that inflict paint. Yeah, think about that one for a minute.

I'm really, really ready for this next phase in my life where I have a big kid's job and I feel like I'm accomplishing something. I've been feeling rutted for far too long.

My favorite place to be is inside of a hug. I'd buy the land if I could. It's an added bonus when your head sits perfectly on top of mine. It's a perfect way to breathe a person in, I think.

With each passing day, the fingers on my left hand look more gross. I couldn't be happier about it. Actually, I could. I'd be happier if my ability as a guitar player came naturally.

11 February 2009

Dear Body,

I kind of hate you a little bit right now. I've been doing the best I can to take care of you by feeding you and walking you to work and cleaning you on occasion. That being said, I expected a little more out of you. I understand, times are hard. But I don't care! That's supposed to be my excuse!

Body, we've been through it all together. I'm just asking you to meet me half way on this one. Fine, get sick. I'll put up with that. I'll give you tea and keep you warm. You can even have a pimple or two. But for the love of God, stop bleeding. A nice lady-doctor put me on a medication that she thought would be strong enough to set you straight. But no, body, no. You had to be stronger. So, after three months, each only allowing me a one week break, I called that nice lady-doctor back. And do you know what she did, Body? She put me on a stronger version of that tiny pill that seems to be defenseless against your insolence. But I have to wait for three more weeks to see if it'll do any good.

So Body, I don't think I'm asking very much when I'm asking you to stop. Please, just this once, cooperate. I'll keep feeding you. I swear I'll shower more regularly if that's what you want. I'll even shave my legs and wear shorts if that's what it will take to get you to behave. I will. I'll do it. For you. Because that's the kind of person I am. If this plea doesn't do it, I will turn to threats. Make me love you, Body. The world doesn't need one more woman out there who hates her body. Be the Body I know you can be. Be the Body I can love. Thanks for listening. I know you're tired. You and me, we're in this alone together. Or whatever.

Sincerely,

Theresa.

07 February 2009

Wondering

Why do I keep writing in this thing?

Change in Plans

I'm only going to go to Arizona for the second week planned. It ended up working out for all of us. I have to take the teacher certification test the day before my interview as well. So that works out and stuff. We'll just need a place to sleep during the twenty-nine hour drive.

I don't have much to say. There's a first.

I started working on a poem I think I'm going to like. It's not about the weather.

I can't figure this out or seem to let it go. I really need some peace.

I've been sleeping like crap lately. I can't fall asleep and then when I do, I'm consistently waking up well before my alarm goes off. This leaves me feeling tired and a little out of sorts for the entire day.

I feel like I'm coming together and falling apart at the same time. How does that work?

04 February 2009

I wish I had a mango tree

In my backyard.

Soon here, it might be an orange tree.

Today's thoughts or whatever:

I have been invited to interview for the fellowship in Phoenix.
I can't get the song Mango Tree by Angus & Julia Stone out of me.
While looking up the MySpace link for them, I realized that they are going to be playing in Phoenix with Brett Dennan while I'm in Arizona the second time.
I'm going to Arizona with the people I would be moving with on 28 Feb until 6 March.
We're taking my car.
I would have to go back again on 29 March for an interview. I think I will spring for the plane ticket.
I might pick some asparagus.
I'm always amazed at how things turn out, good or bad.
I am worried that things are working out too well for the Arizona thing.
Since trying to play guitar, I pay more attention to strum patterns and it makes me love songs even more.
I like that I still love music and appreciate it more now than when I was in band in school.
I wish I could understand what happened.
I still miss you.
What if I don't get the position?
The calluses on my left hand don't look gross yet.
I am making it my goal to cross things off my proverbial life list. This year.
I'm not sure what I want. But I know that whatever it is, I don't want it alone.

Interview?

Yeah, I got one.

02 February 2009

Wondering

Is love ever wasted?