Here's the Why

The ground doesn't shake anymore,
My footing is solid.
My head is raised, looking ahead
Instead of anxiously down at my feet. 
Thoughts inside of my head sound familiar.
When I smile, it reaches my eyes.
When I laugh, I recognize the sound of my own voice.
The eyes are dry, my heart is whole.  
My gifts I give with my entire being. 
Oh yes, this is it.

Life is so much better with you.

Delight

Healthy living is for the birds. I miss the days long ago (four, to be precise) where I was blissfully fat and happy, struggling into my sole pair of fitting pants but oh so enjoying that slice of cheese pizza. Now my life is reduced to no dairy, no gluten, and no sugar. That pretty much means a hearty meal now consists of a nice gulp of air and a refreshing slurp of water.

Tonight I dined on gluten-free, yeast-free, wheat-free, taste-free bread. It came in a freeze wrapped package, like something you send, along with a profuse apology, up in space with an astronaut. Mmmm. I bought some vegan cheese to go with it, but my stomach recoiled upon the first jiggly bite.

On the plus side, my waist has trimmed down a bit, but even that is hard to enjoy that when you're suffering from a headache and longing for even just a little bite of fruit. You never realize how many products contain dairy and sugar until you actually stop and read the labels. It's amazing. I don't want a donut (although it wouldn't be turned away), I just miss the basics, like a bit of cream for my coffee and a slice of toast in the morning.

Those with severe food allergies, I bow down to you. This restrictive diet is not for the light of heart or weak of stomach. It's boring, bland, and repetitive, but alas, I should be grateful, because it is food (at least they claim). I'm sure I shall look back at this little venture and laugh at the melodrama with which I reluctantly embraced it, but that day is far, far off from today.

Independence Day

There is just something about fireworks. For some the feeling begins when they think about the hard-earned freedom fireworks symbolize in our country, that hard knot of pride in their chests that reminds them that we are Americans, despite anything and everything that happens to us. And I hope, as it is for me, the feeling is also one of immense gratitude toward the men and women who ensure that freedom, both here at home and overseas.


Yes, there is just something about fireworks. Just the anticipation of their beginning has us repeatedly glancing at our watches excitement. Then we finally hear the whoosh of a firework being launched, and we brace ourselves, knowing that something brilliant is about to erupt. I'd have to guess that it's one of the few things in life anymore that can truly stop us in our tracks, compelling us to gaze upward.


But I'm not watching the fireworks. I'm watching your faces. The sea of unadulterated smiles that swells as your world blazes with color. That look of pure joy. That's all the fireworks I need.

ghee

If it's possible to smile throughout your entire body, then that's what I'm doing. I think back to where I was a year ago today, two years ago, five years ago, and although I wouldn't change a thing, I've never been so keenly aware and appreciative of where I am right now. Everything is just as it should be, and I feel like the whole world reached out and hugged me today to remind me that things are going to be okay, amazing even.

Happy birthday to me.

Tales of a Smelly Lunchroom

The other day I was waiting in the lunch line at school with a class of first graders when I felt a little hand start to rub my arm. Now for those who don't know (and why in the world would you know this?), I'm very self-conscious about my arm hair. I have quite a bit of it. And it's dark. Sort of like a gorilla. Anyway, this little boy looked up at me, still rubbing my arm, and said, "You are so fuzzy. Just like my dad." Wonderful.

I stopped in the cafeteria during lunch to tell a student that I'd missed him in school the last few days that he had been out sick. "Was it a cold?" I asked, about to tell him that I'd recently had one too.

"It's a secret," he said, beckoning me closer.

Why I leaned forward to listen is beyond me. I never should have asked.

"I had diarrhea. Real bad," he said seriously.

Earlier this month, I was standing in the lunch line with some fifth grade boys, and one became wide-eyed when I reached for a turkey sandwich.

"I thought you were a vegetarian!" he gasped.

"Nope," I replied. "How come you thought so?"

He still looked as if in disbelief. "I just always thought so. You look like you would be."

"How so?"

"Your face shape. Your face is shaped like a vegetarian," he said.

"Hmm, good point. Maybe I'll consider converting," I said as I walked away to devour my poultry.

I was walking though the cafeteria one day and was summoned by an excited first grader. "Guess what?" he said. Before I could guess, he blurted out, "My big sister got her period!"

"Uh, good for her . . .?" I said. Then I added, "How about we keep that private and let her break the news to others?"

All Right

When a few people asked me why I don't blog anymore, I really didn't have an answer ready. I guess in hindsight I can admit what I wasn't able to at the time: I was incredibly unhappy. Some people do their best writing when sad or distressed, but not this girl. The words just don't come.

I'm finally at a place where I'm starting to feel confident and at ease again in my own shoes. I'm not as on edge, wondering when someone is going to walk in and rip the rug right out from under my feet. Welcome back to solid ground.

It took much, much longer than I anticipated to get here, and I also think it meant waiting for the right person to come into my life. And whoever said you need to hit rock bottom before being able to fully appreciate the top was really onto something. I know there's no map, no promises, no guarantees, but I think I just might have found something incredibly precious. And I'm happy.

Hello

Hello old neglected friend! My how I have avoided you over the last year. But I have an excuse. Well, several. Things sort of fell apart, I had to start over, I'm learning how to live on my own, and I needed to find the courage to let myself feel happy again.

So here I am, back but undoubtedly changed. It has taken me a long while to come to the realization that I can never go back to being the "old me." In the course of everything that transpired, all the tears that were shed, the new quests, the risks taken, the heart given, I cannot possibly still be the same girl I was before this was all set in motion. I'd like to think I'm more brave than she was, more determined, even in the face of criticism and loneliness, to find my true path. But yet maybe a little more foolish too. I'm still "me," but a slightly less naive, more cautious me than I was before, but also a hopeful me that prays I will one day shed the shackles of guilt and let myself move toward the beautiful life.

What I have learned:

*Houses and "things,"e.g. throw pillows and wall art, may look beautiful but aren't true companions

*Once you close a familiar door, the person on the other side might never try to step through it again

*The loving friendship among girls is sacred

*Time does not always heal

*Courage and willingness to love can introduce you to beautiful new people

*I will be fine, great even

Who Knows?

Ok New Year's Resolutions for 2011:

Be courageous

Learn to like mushrooms

Go zip--lining

Stop judging myself so harshly

Volunteer

Exercise regularly

Plant in my backyard

Take post-grad classes

Eat healthier

Get a summer job

Travel (cheaply of course)

new year

What will it bring?

The past few weeks have been undoubtedly the hardest of my life, but they have illuminated what I already know: I am lucky indeed to have so many deeply wonderful, caring people in my life.

Here's to looking forward and not back. Here's to going through the very lows to reach the highs. Here's to figuring it all out.

Here's to courage.

Found!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

1:30 PM

Counseling Notes

The client has recently been "missing in action," or "MIA," as it has been termed, from her regular blogging antics. She appears to have developed a recent compulsion for home shopping, single-handedly moving large furniture back and forth, watching and re-watching mundane television programs, and eating obscene amounts of sugar-filled delights. Consumed by a somewhat new-found calling for decorating, she finds herself deliberating between the fresh appeal of the color "tangerine" and the soothing essence evoked by "apricot" (but then quickly loses focus and hunts for a snack). Unable to visualize in her head the layout and coordination of items, she splurges on unnecessary accessories in multiples colors and sizes at every local store within reasonable driving distance. Upon returning home, she piles her treasures up in the center of whatever room she is currently decorating, moves them around for several hours, formulates new ideas, heads out the next day to buy more, and then eventually returns nearly all purchased items, as she has changed her mind altogether.

The client also complains of physical and mental exhaustion. Pressed for more details, she provided her daily schedule: Upon waking up somewhere between nine and eleven o'clock, she enjoys a cup of coffee, consumes a healthy dosage of important updates from her favorite reputable website, www.people.com, and then heads out for an afternoon of shopping, swimming, reading, or chatting. She then returns to do some heavy cleaning (upwards of 15 minutes) and settles in for the evening with a bowl of cereal and whatever television programs might be airing. She repeats this the next day, sometimes adding in a leisurely stroll about the neighborhood if feeling particularly energized. Overall, the client reports feeling that she is overexerting herself and might need to cut out one or two activities in her packed day.

At my urging, the client promises to try to slowly return to her normal routine, including blogging on a somewhat regular basis, exercising, eating a vegetable now and then, doing schoolwork, and waking and sleeping at socially acceptable hours, as this might help her ease back into a healthier way of living. Updates to follow.

with sprinkles, no, without

I just counted the number of books I am currently reading: five. I don't even have that many rooms in my apartment. They are scattered about, one in the bedroom, one in the living room, one on the kitchen counter, and one in the bathroom (yes, I read on the pot, and you do too, just admit it). The fifth is currently MIA but around here somewhere, I just know it. And yes, I am truly reading all of them, but in fragmented, hurried spurts. This speaks to the state of my mind lately--lots of different mental drawers are open at one time, and I can't seem to focus enough to shut a single one before opening another. Pretty soon the whole dresser will just topple over from the weight.

Pug and I were just discussing yesterday how lately my words can't keep up with my thoughts. I'm afraid that they just keep spilling out of my mouth as they come to me, and I can assure you that there is not one ounce of elegance to it. I am surely frustrating company for those used to following a logical thought process. I literally cut myself off mid-sentence, invent several new words a day by frantically combining several together, and jump from topic to topic like it's nobody's business. Even while typing this blog, I've gotten up three times when something new popped into my head.

School has been so busy that I haven't been able to keep up, which makes me feel overwhelmed, needed, and guilty at the same time. I think I need to try some of the deep breathing and focusing exercises that I teach the kids at school. Self--cut out all this "I need to carry the whole Earth, and maybe Saturn and Jupiter and hell, Pluto as well, on my shoulders" crap and just calm down and eat a donut.

It is this.

At the end of the day lately, no matter how hard I work, I'm left with nothing more than the taste of my own selfishness on my tongue.

punctuality

This week has been absolutely overwhelming. Some days here I don't feel busy enough, but this week I was lucky to eat lunch by 3:30. I need a pair of skates the way I run up and down the halls. I literally had kids lecturing me for not getting to them soon enough after they left notes for me. I want all of them to feel heard and important, but I think they forget there are almost 500 of them and only one of me. Two little girls: "Umm, this is the THIRD time in two days we came looking for you. You SAID we could talk!" I found myself hanging my head in shame and repeatedly apologizing for not being more responsible.

Anyway, I was hanging with one of my kiddos who is often very unpredictable and difficult to read, so I decided to give him a short learning styles profile and multiple intelligence assessment to gather more information about the best ways to work with him. I read him the questions aloud as he played with my big orange squishy stress ball and made farting noises into it with his mouth. Yuck. But I pick my battles, and this was not one of them. Anyway, one of the true/false statements toward the end of the multiple intelligence test was: "I am concerned about how others feel." When I read it to him, he looked at me like my head had suddenly sprouted an extra set of eyes. He replied, "No! I'm eight." Oh, honesty! Needless to say, interpersonal intelligence did not turn up as a particular strength of his.

This week I had two more, "I never thought I'd hear THIS in elementary school" moments. What is going on?! Some days I feel like a high school counselor and that my little people are so much older, more mature than their appearances would suggest. Despite anonymity, I do not feel comfortable sharing many of these stories here, but I am keeping a journal of the heartbreaking, strange, awkward, and of course funny occurrences that I have already occurred in my short 6 months on the job. I have never once felt bored. What will next week bring?

and I see you

It comes down to this:

without you, nothing else makes any sense

02/02/2002

yours

my rear view mirror disappearing now

It's finally here and we're seemingly worlds apart now. You have always been the protector, the trailblazer, and now is no exception. You are at this very moment making a profound difference for so many.

When I think about it, there's nothing I'd rather be doing than simply lying in the grass beside you embellishing tales from the past and weaving glimpses of the future.

My mind is heavy, but I look ahead to the days that bring us together. My dearest friend, you will never know how much I admire you for even the simplest things.

All my love.

Ovaltine

I have daily breakfast duty at my school. It's a real treat. The smell alone in the cafeteria sufficiently stifles my appetite for at least 6 hours. This morning a child threatened to dump her carton of strawberry milk down my leg again. She got me real good before winter break--my sock and shoe were soaking wet for hours. Although I have to say that it beats having syrup dripped down your pants. I disliked that very much.

Today after the morning bell rang I was left supervising one dawdling little seven-year old. She is the long lost poster child for "ragamuffin." No front teeth, mismatched rumpled clothing, wild tangling hair, speech impediment....the whole bit. Anyway, she opened her chocolate milk, took a big gulp, scrunched up her face, and yelled, "This tastes like horse shit!"

"Excuse me?" I whipped around. She repeated it.

It was a full minute later before I figured out that she was trying to say "Hershey's."

Scrunchy face + disdainful tone + "hoorshee" = horse shit, no? Apparently not. And thankfully so, because I wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face to reprimand her for such a comment anyway.

That's it.

Bartleby, the Scrivener

I received an email tonight from a current student studying at my undergraduate college. She indicated that she was contacting me because she was interested in knowing how I had transitioned as an English Literature student firmly embedded in the world of academia to a working professional. She was seeking some worldly advice, as she found herself in the exact same position in which I had been upon pending graduation (please note: As a former English major, I never end a sentence in a preposition). "Worldly" being a synonym for my name, I am, of course, the perfect person to provide such advice.

Let's see. How do I use my undergraduate degree? Well, I read books occasionally (and by books, I mean celebrity magazines). And, I write. This blog, for example, is a direct application of the hard-earned money my parents so generously bestowed upon the advancement of my impressionable young mind. Amazing, right? Oh, but she wants to know how the degree can help her find a JOB in the REAL WORLD?

After further consideration, perhaps I shall just pretend as if I never received her email.

Speaking of job, I had better get back to writing my self-evaluation for my impending assessment, or yours truly might be back to pondering the same question as my new little college friend.

LB

This is LB, my sister and B's new little rodent, er, puppy. When he's not biting your face or pissing all over your floor, he's actually somewhat adorable.

This is his first reaction to the crazy ball Suzanne gifted to him (can't imagine why she'd want to get rid of it...) We'd never heard him growl or bark before. Guess when you're 3 pounds, a talking golfball would be intimidating.

2010

this year i realized that instead of fighting against it

i might just need to see it from a different angle

for it to make any sense.

we all find a way :)

Aeronautics

Can't believe it's that time AGAIN! Ever diligent, I am sitting down to write my New Year's resolutions. I have to say I did fairly good on last year's....graduated from my master's program top of my class (yeah, I'm bragging) while managing to not get fired from my daytime job, thankfully received several counseling job offers, accepted a job at an amazing elementary school in the county I wanted, ran in a 5k, got a (slight) suntan, and, generally speaking, complained less than usual. It was a good/lucky year! I did not, however, even attempt to kick my caffeine addiction (coffee is my soulmate), locate my abdominal muscles, or manage to stop cursing. Well shit, who's perfect? Rollover resolutions...

Next up, goals for 2010!
Here goes:

Buy a house
Put down the donuts
Stop cursing
Expand my school's counseling program
Run another race
Cook a meal
Make (or pay someone to be) a friend
Find a new volunteering opportunity

Grow a backbone
Buy or steal a bicycle
Write more poetry
Learn to clean or at least better hide dirt

Well, that oughtta do it. It's a tall order, but I'm up to the challenge. For the first time in quite a while, I felt productive and accomplished in 2009.

By the way, you are all welcome to come to visit us in our new house (when and if such plans come to fruition). Keep in mind you will likely be asked to paint a room, supply and install a sleek new lighting fixture, build us a deck, or landscape our property should you pop by the new abode......you know, the type of small, not atypical requests made of houseguests. In exchange, you will be offered private use of the entire ground floor for your comfort and leisure. Please note, however, that as we are all aware, the cost of heating a home is considerably high these days, and quite frankly this just doesn't fit into our budget. Please dress accordingly (and bring food--I don't cook). I'm expecting an outpouring of visitors, so you are advised to schedule with me in advance.

Happy New Year!