Friday, April 10, 2009

a plan

We all make plans. Lists. Things to do. Goals. Some of us do it just to ease our minds. Some of us do it to keep from wandering aimlessly. I am fan of setting goals. But, I am also fond of change. Growing up I had to learn to not set my heart on anything or anyone. A nomadic lifestyle keeps you from getting attached to people, places, or things. I have found that the older I get the more I long for solidity, but thrive on change - out of habit. This is quite frustrating being such a goal-oriented person.

Someone asked me what brought me peace. I responded:

Peace is a drive in the mountains with the windows down.
The freedom of not craving anyone or anything.
Peace is not waiting, just being.

I cannot check all of those off my list - but I am working on them everyday. Spring break brought me the peace of the mountains. I went up to Boone to spend time with Michelle, catch up with some old friends, and enjoy the fresh air.
Not waiting for anything is a difficult task these days. We are always waiting for more money, nicer things, for the traffic light to change, the weekend, a new album to come out, a big event to happen, the perfect person to come along. With all this waiting where does the living happen? After all the let downs and mistakes I have made I have resolved to not impatiently wait, but rather make all the moments count. While sounding so cliche it has helped...in many ways.

Going back to Boone reminded me of what I am waiting for. What I really want. What I am working towards. A career in higher education. A front porch with a mountain view. All four seasons. The sounds of silence and birds outside my window. A garden. I might not have these thing today...or next year...or maybe not even the year after that...but it is definitly in my 10 year plan...

So for now I am going to live the hell outta my life. Take every opportunity that comes along. Not hold back. Enjoy the incredible people that surround me. Reconnect with old friends. And just breathe. Because one day, I will be going home.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Everybody's got a way of gettin' on...

When I am out late, and have a good taste of Jack ,my mind let's loose all the pent up thoughts that wander around aimlessly...

I miss Boone. I miss the fresh air. The contrast of the bright blue sky with the fast-paced clouds. The mountains that surround and overwhelm your view. I miss the view from my spot at the counter in Espresso News. The smell of roasted coffee and hum of daily conversation. I miss the crisp breeze and the daily walks. I don't walk enough now...

I miss my best friend. The studio looking over King street. The records. The live shows with loud music, and the long talks about everything and nothing. Rooftop sessions of blues and quality beer. Or just soaking up early spring rays, sharing conversation, stretched out on a warm blanket.

I miss the mountain views that are so extensive you are never quite sure of how far you can actually see. Is that the final range...or is there more to see? Lazy clouds keep it a mystery.

A cozy bar with faces that you know...any night of the week. A bartender that doesn't even check your ID because they remember you. Sidewalks that carry you and your friends to familiar places. Shows with an energy only found with a community of listeners...not just patrons of an establishment.

When I want to feel these memories I just need to listen to Sally Jaye, Radiohead, Joshua Radin, Ryan Adams, or Ray Lamontagne, andI am transported to higher elevations and a simpler life. The songs that carried me throughout each day. Forget six lanes of traffic. Forget a 40 minute commute. Forget skyscrapers and the necessity of a highway. Give me the curve of a mountain range, and the comfort of a sunset.

And so, I am going to go back. Just for a visit. A taste. A reconnection with the town that has felt more like home than anywhere else I have ever lived.

So, if you are in North Carolina...in the mountainous region of Watauga county I hope to see you sometime during the second week of April...because as much as I enjoy Atlanta, and the peoples here, I miss the simplicity of Boone...and the life that was there. And one day, just maybe, I hope to go back for good.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

that's what she said

There is something undeniably fullfilling about putting pen to paper. A simple flourish can accent a particular mood. The simplicity of text is rewarding, but does not evoke the same personality when read.

I shall try my best.

So many thoughts have been swirling around in my conciousness as of late. I just cannot find the time or energy to sort them all out and create order.
My life is moving along. I have few complaints or angst to spill out on the page. Those parts of me that are hurting or missing will remain private - I tend to nurse my wounds in selclusion thank you very much. There is little point in spilling it all out...unless you thrive on people petting your head and saying "It's o.k. dearie." If you know me at all you know I am not that type.

Certain people in my life seem to be put there for me to learn. I am not sure what, though. Maturity? Relaxation? Acceptance? Leadership? One wonders about ones own quality when they are aggravated by other personalities. I tend to think of myself as fairly accepting...but there are times when I am too critical - and that irks me. I think that is something I will be more aware of...and change in the present time. After all, how often has my personality rubbed others the wrong way? I can only imagine. I have been called arrogant and cold - both of which I don't identify with. It just goes to show you how perspective is everything.


Dance is a perfect example of this...I have been pondering how the whole social ladder works. It is a strange little subculture with a mysterious social pecking order. That goes for competitions, teachers, and 'cool kids'. No matter how many competitions you don't win somehow you can be a judge? Good teacher does not equal good competitor. Good competitor does not equal good teacher. Winning though, does equal cool kid. That seems to be a common theme though in life - and all other sports/activities. Another interesting point about perspective is our perspective of our ability. I have a fairly critical eye when it comes to my dancing. As a goal oriented person I am always reaching for more, always looking for improvement. When movement becomes routine I try to break it. As someone who has settled for less for years...and barely squeeked by...I love a good reality check about my skill level. It is humbling, rewarding, and very human.
Dance is a joy for me. I have lost that in the past year, and only recently rediscovered the magic. Competition has stripped me bare of my perspectives, and also built up confidence. At the moment I think I am going to step back from such goals and work on the joy aspect.
I recently met someone who reminded me that not all 'cool kids' are in it for the spotlight. Being joyful while dancing is not so overrated after all . . .

Enough on that rant...I don't think I am making sense anymore.

My work is finally settling down into being not completely insane. I am getting a grasp on lesson plans, scheduling, pre-planning, and my lab. It has taken over 20hrs of 'overtime' to get all 30 computers up and running with their correct modules and software functional. It has been a slow process, but now that it is working I feel so much more 'whole' about my classroom. The kids are about to wrap up their first module and then we are going to close the quarter with some team projects. Marble rollercoasters, egg protection devices, and bridges will soon fill my room. There is something incredible about a child learning, creating, designing, and building. Hands on activites are in short supply for the average child. Many of them cannot solve simple problems - or even use scissors with any dexterity. Not only do I want them to learn about the evils...ahem...wonders of technology, but I strive to open their worlds to the satisfaction of creating.

That person who you used to tell everything to is no longer on the other end. Caught between intense anger and overwhelming sadness, I only allow myself to even touch that emotional connection on rare occasions. It is so easy to only remember the good things when you are hurting. I remind myself of the frustrations. Of the disagreements. Of the unemotional voice. Of the inabilty to connect. It was amazing and confusing. I felt fullfilled and completely empty at the same time. It was complete and on the surface, entirely shallow. I miss my friend. But, I don't think I was ready.

When are we ready? Months, days, years? It has been august of 2007 since I have allowed myself to be 'in a relationship'. I have entertained the idea, and been very close to quite a few people since. I have carried out the actions and played the part, and yet never succumbed to the term 'relationship'. I have refused to be committed to anyone. Refused to love. Refused to be loved. Stuck in limbo, I feel dull. Worn down. Unable to pick a side, sometimes I wonder if I am broken, or just waiting with the sense of knowing there is 'more out there'. All I know is that all the logic in the world solves nothing when it comes to matters of the heart.

And so I will sit and drink my tea, eat my chocolate chip muffin, and continue to reflect while enjoying my Alcove.








Wednesday, December 3, 2008

early spring . . .

3/11

Life is full of beautiful irony.
Today has been gorgeous.
No internet. No electricity. Or message from the mechanic.
Good call on the bike ride into town.
Good call on the warm scarf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Predictability.
Sometimes a comfort.
Sometimes a bore.
You seek it. You revolve your very being around being able to know what comes next.
Uncomfortably shifting in your skin.
We like to know how the story ends.
What the main characters do next.
But we thrive on adventure.
The unknown.
The inability to predict.
Predictability.
I seek you not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then, as in all the wise people in my life say, when you meet 'that' person it is the easiest thing in the world.
You don't wonder what they are thinking.
You don't doubt them.
They are moving along at the same pace in life.
They don't stifle you.
They understand you as an individual and enjoy you for who you are.
I tend to agree

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, am I happy?
That is such a multifaceted question that has a myriad of answers.
Deep down I am content.
On the surface I am anxious.
Deep down I am broken.
On the surface I am eager.
Happiness is a shallow emotion that is brought about by petty pleasures. Momentary. Selfish.
My conflicting emotions cause a distaste for such courtesies as happiness.
I am happy to think about you. I am happy to think you return the sentiment.
But you are not the source of my internal, eternal happiness. No one is. Or ever will be.
That is my promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how hard we try to make everything perfect, it will never be. There will always be histories. Broken hearts. Lost love. Rejection. Hurt.
We all come into a relationship with baggage. No one is perfect or free from such things.
And that is o.k.
We must, however, realize how to deal with them. Because we all have experienced this grand adventure that brings us immeasurable joy and pain. Love.
I just hope I don't fuck up too badly.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

passing by with every exit sign . . .

I love to post lyrics. I hate to read them when someone else does though.
Internally, music is a holistic experience. It amazes me how many people don't actually listen to the words in a song. Quite often my friends say "Oh, I just hear the beat." Interesting.
A song would not be a song if it were not for the words that the artist is putting on top, or underneath, or alongside the rest of the music.
Sometimes when I listen to a song I see a dance, or rather a general movement or shape that goes along with it. Like where people would be, and what kind of shapes they would make in their groupings and then within their movement. In simple terms: I check out when I listen to music.

Either way, if you don't like to read lyrics then just find the song. But I am posting it because besides loving the entirety of the song, I am in a place right now that identifies with the words...

"What a day" by Greg Laswell.

What a day to be alive
What a day to realize I'm not dead
What a day to save a dime
What a day to die trying

What a way to say good bye
What a wonderful life now
What a way to use your mind
What a day to say good night

"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"
(My life)

What a day to give a damn
What a day for "Gone with the Wind"
And what a day to start again
What a day to give up dry gin

"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"
"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"

Let it go
Let it go from here, I don't know
Let it go
Let it go from here, I don't know
Don't know

What a day to visit Seattle
What a day for San Francisco
What a day, holy Toldeo
What a day to get in the air and go
What a day to give up smoking
What a day to absorb
What a day to welcome a baby
And to begin breathing

Sunday, November 9, 2008

the bends

I recently discovered that I am the only leftie in my family. No, I do not write with my left hand, instead, I vote for the left side.
My family is military, and I think that trickles down through the generations. Not to mention how conservative they are about religion and other touchy subjects. There is not much conversation about the realness of God. It is just not questionable. Now I am not a registered democract - nor do I want to be - but I am certainly not a republican by any means. I think the holiday dinner table this year will hold some interesting coversations to say the least . . .

I find a constant inner struggle with my place in the realm of faith. While I had a strict upbringing to be christian, I find anyone who holds so strongly to such a faith to be somewhat frustrating. Yet, when my other friends who are adamantly against christians profess their dislike it raises my hackles and I am ready to fight for the religion that I hold closest to my heart. My inner reflection on such responses only brings me to one conclusion - I am irritated by those who judge someone elses beliefs. I think it stems from my incredibly narrowminded childhood that taught me to place unquestioning judgement on anyone else who believed anything different. And that just sickens me. I have met such an incredible variety of people in my life that while I might not agree with everyone I hold a great amount of respect for those who are on different paths than myself.
An excellent example of my family's deep-seated need to believe in God is the fact my grandparents bought me a subscription to Discovery - a daily bible reader. My grandmother is convinced that I am not a christian or don't know God or something to that extent. I really don't know what sparked that in her. Maybe is is me being Catholic, or maybe living in Boone, or maybe not voting for McCain. I don't know, but she is bound and determined that I read the bible for salvation. Now, I love her with all my heart, and she is one of the most inspirational, hard-working, dedicated, strong, passionate, women I know, but she is a bit extreme sometimes, which unfortunately, turns me off to religion. Sigh . . . I don't know where I am going with this . . . I just had to ramble for awhile. I do know that it is very difficult for me to worship a tangible person.

My new favorite show is 30Rock. Tina Fey is my hero. I actually laugh out loud while watching it alone. And that means it is pretty damn funny. If you are not already in love, then you need to check it out. That rounds out my online tv watching to: Dexter, The Office, and 30Rock . . .

I am pumped about KLX. I have been going for, what, 5 or 6 years now? I can't even remember. I just know that I am looking forward to seeing my peoples, rocking out with the good southern dj's and the most excellent food. Never underestimate southern hospitality =)

Atlanta sometimes still does not feel like home. I drive on top of spaghetti junction every day and see the skyline off in the distance. It is beautiful sight, but still a bit surreal. I think it is because my life is consumed by teaching and learning. Which, don't get me wrong, is fantastic, but I think I will try to make it out more in the spring. Money is still pretty tight so catching a show and dinner is not always in the budget, but I promised myself I would take advantage of the culture that the big city offers. Maybe that is just it. I am not such a big city girl. I would love to live in a small town and walk everywhere. I like favorite spots, and familiar faces.

Maybe someday I will have my dream of living in a small town, working at a college or university, and enjoying the dance community all at the same time. Someday . . .

Saturday, September 13, 2008

alone in a sundrenched world

pure comfort is being completely alone in a room full of strangers.
no one to ask you questions. no one to demand your time. no one to pick you apart and wonder what you have been doing, or where you are going.

i think i have found a close second to my beloved Espresso News.

being a teacher makes you feel like you are making a difference. turning on a light bulb. expanding a mind. but it also makes you reject society as a source of sustainence. bugger.

i had more than one person apologize to me for choosing a career in middle school. it struck a chord of fear in my heart when i heard such words. apparently it is supposed to suck. but you know what? i think it is right where i need to be. i abhor stagnation and routine. i like organization and a schedule, but i struggle when my job does not challenge me, or give me opportunity for change and growth. when presented with tasks that are the same, day in and day out i become the worst employee. it is when each day is fresh and new that i thrive as an employee and a productive citizen of the world. and middle school certainly provides such an opportunity - every day. the kids are vivacious, stubborn, bright, and entertaining. i enjoy them - even when they behave so badly that i give out 6 conduct cuts in one class period. they buck the norm and refuse to be the same every day - which is pretty normal for someone 11 to 13 years old. my job is hard, demanding, time-consuming, and i love every bit of it. after all, every situation is only what you make of it. good or bad.

a cup of iced coffee and my leather bound journal await my descent. i succumb to their call and leave you to the rest of your day, or hour. enjoy.