I will probably be staying in Phoenix for another.
I know why I'm staying but don't exactly know the reasoning behind it.
No, that's not true.
I'm still looking for new teaching jobs.
I won't be teaching kindergarten next year.
I will have a Master of Education in May but probably won't walk in the ceremony.
Sadness comes too easily these days.
I spent some time in prayer today.
The sounds of the quails was amazing.
I love the family I was born into but don't know how to rationalize the emotions that love causes.
I don't want to buy a house until I've paid off my car.
Teaching is challenging, yes, but I love it.
More, I think, than any other job out there.
Except maybe Sesame Street.
I don't fully understand what I'm feeling right now but I don't think I like it.
My sister is still married.
As stupid as I think that is, I guess I understand.
Sometimes it's just easier to sleep than find something better to do.
Sometimes it's easier.
What more do I need to learn from being lonely?
04 March 2012
22 January 2012
26 November 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
I'm 26 now. I keep forgetting when I dream and tell myself I'm still 25 and in my mid-twenties instead of my mid- to late-twenties.
I found a church I think is worth returning to. I had to move over a box when I checked off my age and it reminded me that I'm now 26-34 and not 18-25.
I believe that the fact that I have no real friends out here is directly related to the fact that I've accepted that I have no family. The world is trying to tell me that you can't have one without the other, apparently.
Her body is back, yes. Well, most of it. But she's gone and we let her go. I'm partially responsible for not being... a sister or friend or willing to be responsible. But I'm still angry.
This AND that.
This year, I'm miserable teaching. I don't know if it's that I'm miserable or if it's the teaching. It could have something to do with the shooting. Next year, I can't teach kindergarten in Arizona anymore. So I have to choose one of these: 1. Stay in Arizona and teach a different grade. 2. Leave Arizona and teach any grade K-8. Or community college, I suppose. 3. Stay in Arizona and look for different jobs. 4. Leave Arizona and look for different jobs.
I won't be home for Christmas because I have no home. I will, however, be in Phoenix.
I'm looking for something to hold onto. Freeing. Welcoming.
In the darkness, there is still light. This post, though alarmingly pertinent, make me laugh every time I read it and read it again.
I can do anything.
I found a church I think is worth returning to. I had to move over a box when I checked off my age and it reminded me that I'm now 26-34 and not 18-25.
I believe that the fact that I have no real friends out here is directly related to the fact that I've accepted that I have no family. The world is trying to tell me that you can't have one without the other, apparently.
Her body is back, yes. Well, most of it. But she's gone and we let her go. I'm partially responsible for not being... a sister or friend or willing to be responsible. But I'm still angry.
This AND that.
This year, I'm miserable teaching. I don't know if it's that I'm miserable or if it's the teaching. It could have something to do with the shooting. Next year, I can't teach kindergarten in Arizona anymore. So I have to choose one of these: 1. Stay in Arizona and teach a different grade. 2. Leave Arizona and teach any grade K-8. Or community college, I suppose. 3. Stay in Arizona and look for different jobs. 4. Leave Arizona and look for different jobs.
I won't be home for Christmas because I have no home. I will, however, be in Phoenix.
I'm looking for something to hold onto. Freeing. Welcoming.
In the darkness, there is still light. This post, though alarmingly pertinent, make me laugh every time I read it and read it again.
I can do anything.
15 October 2011
Anywhere but Phoenix
I think about band names more than I should for a person who can barely carry a tune and butchers chords on guitar. But that would be it. That would be my band name. Anywhere but Phoenix. It seems appropriate. It's mostly true.
I do not like Phoenix. When asked why, I'm quick to answer that it has no soul. But what's that even mean?
This is a cold, cold place that has pockets of community with no connections between them. Drivers aren't defensive--they own the road. The music lacks inspiration. There's even a term for it: Desert Pop. People don't greet others in passing and with my propensity to talk to strangers, I find this problematic. The city is caught in an identity crisis. It's continually expanding but creating the same horizon with each new avenue it adopts.
But the real problem? No, it's not political and has nothing to do with the economy. Not for me, anyway. It's something I can't really explain. I just don't feel like I belong here. So when I say that Phoenix has no soul, what I mean is that I can't find my own here. But maybe I can't see the desert for the sun, so to speak. Because I'm here. And I've signed a contract. And though I may not enjoy the school where I work, I have met some pretty great people there. Even though I feel like I don't belong here, I need to be content with the choices I have made. Besides, the sunsets are beautiful.
Where could I go? Anywhere but Phoenix. Where will I go? I'm just not sure yet.
-Theresa
I do not like Phoenix. When asked why, I'm quick to answer that it has no soul. But what's that even mean?
This is a cold, cold place that has pockets of community with no connections between them. Drivers aren't defensive--they own the road. The music lacks inspiration. There's even a term for it: Desert Pop. People don't greet others in passing and with my propensity to talk to strangers, I find this problematic. The city is caught in an identity crisis. It's continually expanding but creating the same horizon with each new avenue it adopts.
But the real problem? No, it's not political and has nothing to do with the economy. Not for me, anyway. It's something I can't really explain. I just don't feel like I belong here. So when I say that Phoenix has no soul, what I mean is that I can't find my own here. But maybe I can't see the desert for the sun, so to speak. Because I'm here. And I've signed a contract. And though I may not enjoy the school where I work, I have met some pretty great people there. Even though I feel like I don't belong here, I need to be content with the choices I have made. Besides, the sunsets are beautiful.
Where could I go? Anywhere but Phoenix. Where will I go? I'm just not sure yet.
-Theresa
05 September 2011
And listen,
'bout those bitter songs you sing...
We're all so full of opinions about the way things should and shouldn't be. I'm no different.
This much is clear: it shouldn't be this way. I'm doing what I can to make things better. Good.
I thought by the time I was twenty-five I'd have a clear sense of what home is. Instead, like so many other definitions I've created, I'm only able to define by it by what it isn't.
I want to talk about it but more, I want to not have to. I wish there had been people around when--I just wish there were people around. I want friends. People to see and know. No, I need friends. I need people. Who'd have thought the desert was such a cold place?
...They're not helping anything. They won't make you strong.
I'd plan a move but this time, I want to go to something instead of away from another. Maybe I'm just waiting for the universe to push me to something.
-Theresa
We're all so full of opinions about the way things should and shouldn't be. I'm no different.
This much is clear: it shouldn't be this way. I'm doing what I can to make things better. Good.
I thought by the time I was twenty-five I'd have a clear sense of what home is. Instead, like so many other definitions I've created, I'm only able to define by it by what it isn't.
I want to talk about it but more, I want to not have to. I wish there had been people around when--I just wish there were people around. I want friends. People to see and know. No, I need friends. I need people. Who'd have thought the desert was such a cold place?
...They're not helping anything. They won't make you strong.
I'd plan a move but this time, I want to go to something instead of away from another. Maybe I'm just waiting for the universe to push me to something.
-Theresa
08 August 2011
Hello Blogger,
My old friend.
Yes, it's been a while. Life got really unmanageable there for a bit. I was, and still am, at a loss for words for what has transpired in the last year--particularly the last seven months. I can say this: it can only get better. I'll do what I can to ensure the truth in that last statement.
Of the things that fill me with sorrow, that I'm not sure I believe in love disturbs me the most.
Motion, motion, motion.
If I can shake this year, then maybe I can shake this feeling.
-Theresa
Yes, it's been a while. Life got really unmanageable there for a bit. I was, and still am, at a loss for words for what has transpired in the last year--particularly the last seven months. I can say this: it can only get better. I'll do what I can to ensure the truth in that last statement.
Of the things that fill me with sorrow, that I'm not sure I believe in love disturbs me the most.
Motion, motion, motion.
If I can shake this year, then maybe I can shake this feeling.
-Theresa
03 July 2011
07 June 2011
It hasn't rained hard
for the better part of seven months.
She asked if she could go back home and yes, they said, emphatically and over and over and over. But I haven't called her.
Everything I have ever owned got dusty and old.
It's just a story that makes mid-day television because it's too ludicrous for prime-time and don't seem real enough for the news.
It's been a long year but I'm not ready to give up.
And you know, I did just fine without you. Didn't I? Maybe I'm not the person I thought I'd be by now. No, I'm definitely not. But I'm okay with that. I know I've let a lot of people down. Or maybe I'm thinking too much of myself and I didn't really let anyone down. This is just the way things happen sometimes.
Maybe it's time to leave your change behind.
I've changed a lot. If I didn't change, I don't know what would be left of me. All that is left of me is all that I have. And some have chosen to stay and stick it out and see what becomes of it and me. And some have chosen not to. And that's okay. Because sometimes that's the easier choice.
I was never a very good sister. Will weeks in the rain cure me of this? Probably not. I'd need to intend to.
-Theresa
P.S. Road Trip 2011 will still hold its name, though it's more of a four week long journey of planes, trains and automobiles.
She asked if she could go back home and yes, they said, emphatically and over and over and over. But I haven't called her.
Everything I have ever owned got dusty and old.
It's just a story that makes mid-day television because it's too ludicrous for prime-time and don't seem real enough for the news.
It's been a long year but I'm not ready to give up.
And you know, I did just fine without you. Didn't I? Maybe I'm not the person I thought I'd be by now. No, I'm definitely not. But I'm okay with that. I know I've let a lot of people down. Or maybe I'm thinking too much of myself and I didn't really let anyone down. This is just the way things happen sometimes.
Maybe it's time to leave your change behind.
I've changed a lot. If I didn't change, I don't know what would be left of me. All that is left of me is all that I have. And some have chosen to stay and stick it out and see what becomes of it and me. And some have chosen not to. And that's okay. Because sometimes that's the easier choice.
I was never a very good sister. Will weeks in the rain cure me of this? Probably not. I'd need to intend to.
-Theresa
P.S. Road Trip 2011 will still hold its name, though it's more of a four week long journey of planes, trains and automobiles.
25 May 2011
The days of the week
Snap. Snap.
Today marks the end of my first year of teaching.
Oh, I should warn you that this is one of those "writing-about-what's-going-on-with-no-real-connections-other-than-in-my-head" posts.
Goal: Be a better teacher next year.
Next steps: Long term plans and centers to be completed over the summer.
Goal: Have a real vacation.
Next steps: Stop worrying about what's going to happen when I get home.
Goal: Road Trip 2011
Next steps: Find someone to drive with.
In terms of Road Trip 2011, the facts are these:
I was going to fly to San Francisco, Seattle and then Detroit. Instead, I will drive to San Francisco with a girl from work, fly to Seattle alone and potentially (hopefully) meet Kensey, and then fly to Detroit on June 23. From there, I would like a road trip.
Potential places to visit:
Kalamazoo and a variety of stops in Michigan
Chicago
Little Rock
Alabama
North Carolina
Potential meaning I know someone and/or have been invited to come. My intention is to spend more time in Kalamazoo than Detroit. At least I have keys to a house there.
There is a very big difference between being wanted, needed and necessary. Unfortunately, I feel I understand the very clear distinction between those adjectives.
Goal: Have friends to drink with by the end of the next year of teaching.
Next steps: ...Dang.
-Theresa
Today marks the end of my first year of teaching.
Oh, I should warn you that this is one of those "writing-about-what's-going-on-with-no-real-connections-other-than-in-my-head" posts.
Goal: Be a better teacher next year.
Next steps: Long term plans and centers to be completed over the summer.
Goal: Have a real vacation.
Next steps: Stop worrying about what's going to happen when I get home.
Goal: Road Trip 2011
Next steps: Find someone to drive with.
In terms of Road Trip 2011, the facts are these:
I was going to fly to San Francisco, Seattle and then Detroit. Instead, I will drive to San Francisco with a girl from work, fly to Seattle alone and potentially (hopefully) meet Kensey, and then fly to Detroit on June 23. From there, I would like a road trip.
Potential places to visit:
Kalamazoo and a variety of stops in Michigan
Chicago
Little Rock
Alabama
North Carolina
Potential meaning I know someone and/or have been invited to come. My intention is to spend more time in Kalamazoo than Detroit. At least I have keys to a house there.
There is a very big difference between being wanted, needed and necessary. Unfortunately, I feel I understand the very clear distinction between those adjectives.
Goal: Have friends to drink with by the end of the next year of teaching.
Next steps: ...Dang.
-Theresa
16 May 2011
I love my bed.
A Potential Series
At five in the morning, I love my bed. I get in this love bubble where it makes me sad to think about leaving it or a little annoyed if someone disturbs our time together. Even if I didn't have the best night with my bed, I still don't want to leave it. That's how much I love my bed. It's a real, unshakable love.
Let me tell you, people, when I'm not in my bed, I have fantasies about all the lying about I could be doing with my bed. It's just been so good to me. It loves to cuddle. It doesn't tell me I'm wrong. It's especially kind on my fat days. And on the days I really need to sleep in, it muffles the sound of my alarm because I think it loves me too.
Never, not ever, has my bed woken me up before my alarm goes off unless it was something really important like forgetting to blow out a candle or a really icky bug. But you, sir, mistook this love I have for my bed as a joke. No, at five in the morning, nothing is a joke. Except perhaps a text message asking if i m single. That really should have been a joke. As should said text message's mistake follow-up texts and phone calls. Yes, plural. My bed tried to protect me but its grasp only reaches so far. I imagine that there isn't a big network of beds that talk to each other. Although, I imagine if there was, my bed would join that network to tell you or anyone that at five in the morning, do not talk to me. DO NOT POKE THE BEAR.
I love my bed and it loves me too. Especially at five in the morning.
-Theresa
At five in the morning, I love my bed. I get in this love bubble where it makes me sad to think about leaving it or a little annoyed if someone disturbs our time together. Even if I didn't have the best night with my bed, I still don't want to leave it. That's how much I love my bed. It's a real, unshakable love.
Let me tell you, people, when I'm not in my bed, I have fantasies about all the lying about I could be doing with my bed. It's just been so good to me. It loves to cuddle. It doesn't tell me I'm wrong. It's especially kind on my fat days. And on the days I really need to sleep in, it muffles the sound of my alarm because I think it loves me too.
Never, not ever, has my bed woken me up before my alarm goes off unless it was something really important like forgetting to blow out a candle or a really icky bug. But you, sir, mistook this love I have for my bed as a joke. No, at five in the morning, nothing is a joke. Except perhaps a text message asking if i m single. That really should have been a joke. As should said text message's mistake follow-up texts and phone calls. Yes, plural. My bed tried to protect me but its grasp only reaches so far. I imagine that there isn't a big network of beds that talk to each other. Although, I imagine if there was, my bed would join that network to tell you or anyone that at five in the morning, do not talk to me. DO NOT POKE THE BEAR.
I love my bed and it loves me too. Especially at five in the morning.
-Theresa
02 May 2011
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