Fog of a most tantalizing color...

I've not written in this bloggety-blog since October, as you can see, but during the sabbatical I've had scores of epiphanies and publishable thoughts just waiting around to be spat upon a page. For the most part they were wasted, evaporating into the air for only the birds who posses telepathic retrieval abilities to enjoy. I've really struggled, as I may have mentioned before, with viewing my thoughts as having any worth and not giving posts themselves credit for simply existing. Writing, whether it be strikingly profound prose or dribble, has value on its own. I need to remember this.

This week marks the end of state testing for my students, and it also distinguishes the beginning of my trajectory toward becoming the best and most organized teacher of all time. I figure if I start now, I can have everything so well-planned for next year that stress will be decreased by 200%. Since the beginning of the 10-11 school year I've had the most supportive and wonderful supervisor imaginable, which has made SUCH a difference in the quality of every day at work, but during the Summer I was so busy be-bopping around the country and resting to an unnecessary max that I felt frazzled when school started back up. To share with you a tad about my supervisor (rabbit trail alert!), she's a fiery Canadian woman who speaks her mind without reservation (which would get her into trouble if she weren't so professional and effective) yet also has the heart of Mother Theresa when it comes to her level of caring for the kids. She really inspires me to be the greatest I can be. I know I'm capable of being an amazing Math educator who makes students feel safe yet challenged and helps them uncover the awesomeness of learning on their own, but it's a tricky business that takes worlds of work and sacrifice. For some insane reason, however, I can't wait to dive in again when August comes back around. Like I've practically been dreaming about it. I'm ready to start working toward goddess status in the teaching realm.

What should I do this Summer, though? I thought about nannying or working at a grocery store, but once a person doesn't HAVE to work, pros and cons are weighed on an entirely different scale, and certain peeves are considered that never normally would come up on the radar. It basically turns you into a bit of a brat. Maybe temping, though? Tutoring? Any other ideas? I don't want to give more than 25 hours a week, I've decided, unless it's a job I can multitask at (ex: reading while watching a front desk or something). There are so many things to do starting in June that are extremely time-consuming and non-paying but supremely fun or/and stimulating. The list includes:

• Finishing my paintings...
• Making Christmas cards so I can actually send them out this year...
• Writing down the three books currently floating in my head (each one is for a different demographic).
• Recording some music using ideas I've had for ages but never tried (think Bjork meets a unicorn)...
• READING, by God, READING....
• Sculpting myself through enjoyable yet rigorous exercise so I eventually have the body and grace of Aphrodite yet the strength of Athena...
• Spending hours and hours with my niece and nephew; those little folks deserve some serious quality time!
• Laying out a master plan to knock out my debt fully by January 2012...It's doable.....
• Learning how to play the guitar, speak Spanish, use a sewing machine, and knit. All of those things would be goldmines if I knew how.
• Catching up on the myriad of films I've not seen  but wanted to. The list is as wide as Nebraska.

I suppose that's all for now. There's more, but the list was at risk of getting boring (maybe it already did?).

As usual, I've never ceased increasing the star-count in my eyes regarding Love and the artfulness of living, but I feel as though something has changed in me since I wrote last that makes me now more of an adult than ever, although my finger isn't quite on it at the moment. I don't know if it's because I've now been supporting myself for such a long time, or if it's because I'm starting to think of new chapters I want (marriage? aaaaaah!). Regardless, the presence of God has continued to be felt. I'm looking forward to tomorrow and the day after and the day after and so on....................................................
are you?


p.s. things to pray for if you're that sort:

• Awesome and affordable places right near me to live for
• my sister
• one of my dearest friends who's trying to escape Denton
• Manuel (i.e. person I'm in love with)
• Peace for my school; due to certain unique students' needs this year, everyone is super stressed.
• A place (STILL) for me to feel good about going to church in Dallas. I've not yet gathered the courage to visit the remainder of Episcopal churches in my vicinity, and it continues to wear on me.

p.p.s. I forgot to mention something really RAD. My father is bequeathing http://www.pafoofnic.com/ to me, so pretty soon (I'll let you know when) it'll be my mother ship. It'll include a shop to sell my stuff, a quirky yet sound advice column, a fashion blog, and a photo diary. For now, it's an interesting yet dysfunctional photography site my dad used to document his travels with when he was a buyer for a book company. What a well-read and intelligent male parental unit I have, but the man chooses not to spell correctly or proofread, and he does not care about the page's appearance. Both things drive me nuts. I'll let you know when it's all MINE though.....(evil cackle)......

Day 214: Love and Letdown, the Novel

I've thought a lot lately about breakups, time, social norms, my broken air conditioner, why love exists between two people and what causes it to end, and the upcoming election.  If I think on these things too heavily or for too long a duration, I get slightly depressed and must move on to eating Peeps or watching an English comedy from the 70's. I also've thought a lot about communities and what it means to be a part of one. Despite the fact I've been in Dallas for over a year now, I'm still more a part of my Denton community than anything else, and I've not found a Dallas one in the slightest. Other than at my house and the occasional visit to a coffee shop or pub, I don't hang out here. Whyyyyyy? There are interesting people lurking everywhere around these parts! Why can't I just meet some of them?

This is the eternal question. It's been especially dominant in my thoughts as of late.

I've come to the conclusion that it's the same reason why a serial killer would never bother pinning me as a victim. I don't have a habitual path. I'm never anywhere more than once a week, and I don't have a normal hang out. I don't have a regular gym, post office, grocery store, church, restaurant, or gas station schedule. You will never see me at a place around my neighborhood more than once a month. How would I meet anyone if I'm never anywhere?

The question now is, what do I do about it? Such a cosmic inquiry has been lingering there for months, and I've still done nothing. I'm guessing it's due to the fact I'm happy with the friends I do have (wherever they may be), and I'm so doggedly busy, I rarely have more than a few blinks a day to even be low about it.

So. I shrug, eat a cookie, go for a bike ride, and get on with life.

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In other slightly depressing news, I got a tip at work today about a huge bonus everyone was getting because of a grant that just came through. I was so ecstatic, as anyone would be. Debts paid off! Dent in car fixed! Cavities filled!

The mind reels when thinking of ways to spend money.

But shortly after this I checked my email and found I did not receive the message sent to all the recipients. I asked my supervisor, who reluctantly and sympathetically told me my department was not included in the grant.

My heart sunk. I'm disappointed in myself that I could let a material letdown wreak such havoc on my immediate happiness. Then the pities kicked in. Oh, those pities. They're ugly, smell funny, and no one should let them in the door.

"I work just as hard as those other poopy departments!"  (note: they are not poopy.)

"I can never get ahead..."

"I feel like Christmas was just taken away!"

"Whoa is me..."

But on the commute home, a handful of things occurred to me, despite my being buried in intense hmph-ness.

1. A rusty Honda next to me had a coat hanger as its antenna.

2. My parents, who happen to practically be Jesus in real life, are still alive.

3. A workplace exists that I enjoy being at. I possess a job that I enjoy doing.  And miracle! They pay me.

4. I own the most comfortable bed in the entire universe.

5. My friends are the most fiercely loyal individuals I've ever met, which is wretchedly undeserved on my part.

In saying that, who cares about the money. The hour I was mad about it is wasted, but at least I have the rest of my life to not worry about silly stuff that wasn't even "owed" to me anyway. I should be thankful for a roof, food, love, and any goodness I'm fortunate enough to have graced upon me.

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And to end on a happy note, I made something gargantuanly amazing tonight for dinner. I was thinking of using the pre-made Palak Paneer that I have (made by an Indian company, damn good stuff), but I was also thinking about the tofu that's been marinating for two days intended for the imaginary Miso soup I was supposed to be making. In a rush of hunger and inspiration, I got a fantastic idea.

Dump out the marinated tofu and fry it with green onions and olive oil! Use the remaining marinade and boil it with Israeli cous-cous! Once both are done, combine it with the Palak Paneer to make the most delectable concoction since Zeus himself invented the lightning bolt.....

And although I'm usually the only one who benefits from whatever I make when it's genius (*cough*, when it is), I hope someday it won't always be the case.

Cheesy ending over! Zap!

Day 210: Love, war, dancing, buffoonery.

On Friday, I was in a wedding. It was beautiful, happy, and just as they both wanted it. I'm pretty sure I behaved well enough to go unnoticed, which was mainly my goal. Only a few people heard me and chuckled when they announced "single men! come up for the garter toss!" and I yelled "there are none!". That was my one rebellious moment.

Afterward, I decided to, instead of driving back to Dallas, go to a School of Seven Bells show at Hailey's, where it was reconfirmed: White intellectuals don't dance. I've come across this again and again and view it as the bane of many good shows. This time around, due to my severely unquenched need to rebel, I danced without reservations. Kristen was kind enough to be my partner in crime. I'm sure many strange looks were thrown and plenty of judgmental vibes were sent, but I had a grand time; snobs be damned. I don't understand why people in this vane of culture are afraid to dance. I know at least 85 percent of them wanted to but thought they'd look stupid or unrefined and thus were scared. I'm sure I looked both, but does it really matter? I think the joy of having an uninhibitingly fantastic time is more satisfying than not looking ridiculous. The price is well worth it, like paying pennies for a gold-plated Ipod. 

That being said, next time you go to a quality show and everyone is acceptably bobbing their heads, maybe tapping their foot or tamely swaying, and you really instead want to FEEL the music and dance around, please do!!! If I am there, I will dance with you. White dignity is not as good as a serious dancing fest. 

Day 202: Dry wells

It has become grossly apparent as of late that I am currently unable to cry. There have been several key moments warranting a good sob-fest, but the only thing welling up was my disappointment in the lack of tears. Approximately, it's been early June since the last weep session.

As I drove home from the bachelorette party tonight, at which we had a lovely time, I wanted nothing more than some fat, hot raindrops to stream down my cheeks, but nothing! I just longingly stared at the road and sighed. Dry eyes. Empty heart. As I said, the party was a success and it was a nice time, so I'm not sad or upset, I think I'm just emotionally constricted and am bothered by it. Maybe my spirit is malnourished or thirsty? Regardless of why, something has got to change. I'm ready.

Day 201: Flowers in the windows.

So, I've started buying flowers to put in various make-shift vases around the house. It really helps brighten the moral in this place. However, they wilted yesterday when my air conditioner broke and the house decided to douse itself in 95-degree splendor while I was away at work. My arrival to said sauna at 8 pm that evening induced a panic similar to a high-end restaurant chef encountering a minor stove fire. I was able to reduce the temperature down to 85 and went to bed shortly after (the heat amplified my exhaustion). Due to the uncomfortable temperature and the quick imbibing of a Red Bull on my drive home, I experienced a sticky, paranoia-laced slumber and had strange, psychadelic dreams involving my parents with neon hair visiting my apartment, which was painted a swirly purple/red color. They were appalled at the living conditions I had succumbed to, which in the dream were exaggerated and also included, in addition to the broken air conditioner, all the windows missing, nails sticking out of the floor, and a vicious raccoon living under my kitchen sink. The paint was melting off the walls and poisoning us slowly by entering our bodies through the bottoms of our bare feet, which had daisies between the toes.

It all came full circle. Flowers --> pscychotic meltdown --> flowers.

A good chunk of my friends went to Austin this weekend, and I was supposed to go as well, but I have a lingerie shower (I'm in a wedding next weekend) and too much schoolwork to finish, so I was forced to remain behind. This was a major bummer-causer today, and it was amplified by the fact I still haven't started training for the half marathon, thus making my belly poofy and my legs feel like they belong on a human version of Gumby rather than me. My house still is hot, but it's now at 80 rather than 90, so I'm marginally content with that for the time being. It's supposed to be fixed officially before Monday, and I'm praying I can start being a little mean to my cheapo-leapo landlord and lay on the pressure. I'm awful at anything related to forceful convincing, which means I'd also make a wretched lawyer or salesperson, but I am at peace about this. You don't have to be pushy or overly persuasive to help people, thank God, so there will always be a job somewhere for me....

But maybe not fully functioning air conditioning. We'll see.


p.s. the title of this post is a cheesy Travis song that I actually really like.

p.p.s. I'm not a flower person in general, but I like the weird, extra happy-looking varieties. My favorite is the fuji spider mum:

Day 195: Cute but psycho. Things even out.

What a month September has been. I'm now waist-deep in the lake of school, and before I blink again it'll probably be Christmas, which means Christmas card construction must begin soon. I love my new place (I found a sunny upstairs apartment with more space and personality a handful of blocks north of where I was before).

I've no incredible news to report, but I've arrived at some good places. First of all, for the month of September I decided to boycott restaurants/bars and force my friends to hang out with me in alternate places, and the results have been very positive. You don't have to give your money to a food/drink establishment to have quality hang-out time, and this is a comforting fact. I was the "head chef" cooking for 12 people at a birthday dinner party last weekend, and the end result was so much better than going to a restaurant, regardless of how much easier the food would've been. I'm thinking of discouraging restaurant/bar usage on into October, just because the alternatives can be so much more fun, but of course it'll no longer be a "rule". 

A nice change as well, I don't feel as achy as I did before about being alone. School being back in session has helped with this, but I think it also has to do with some maturation on my part. I've become more comfortable with myself in the last couple months and time of solitude has been on a higher level of enjoyment. Being in a new place has probably helped this, too, as there are always things to be done and artsy projects to embark on, and feeling more at home here has widened the inspiration spout for sure. It's become clearer and clearer to me, also, that as far as men are concerned, I most likely have not met "him" yet and regardless of if this is true, I need to chill the heck out. I'm not good at waiting, but this is practice I need. Practice is annoying but necessary. I have to remind myself of this daily with a multitude of other things that bring about growth and discipline. Growth+discipline=discomfort. Meh. Reality. I'm ok with this more and more.

What else what else what else? Oh, today I found out if I don't need to go through a certification process in order to get hired as a teacher in Illinois, which means if I can find a job in Chicago this Spring, they can hire me as is, and I'll have two years to do all the muckity-muck for the Illinois certification while I'm in the midst of teaching. This makes the future look a bit brighter, because face it, Texas: I love you, but I'm not meant to be here forever. I'm made up of Northern puzzle pieces. The nice thing is, on the flip side, I love my job here and don't mind staying as long as it takes to make things happen up there. I'm not going to run away. I'm going to plan a fantastic getaway, which might take some time. However, I'm hoping it doesn't take me more than 8 months. I'll keep you posted.

And oh man! Time has flown with titanium wings! I've got to get in the shower....going bowling in an hour. Yes, bowling.

p.s. the title of this post refers to a button my friend Dianna gave me in college. It has a little bunny on it and "Cute but psycho. Things even out." is what it says. She said it reminded her of me. Surprising? I think not.

Day 151: The Bug

Just another normal day in the House of Jessie/Anna.....

Jess: GROSS! Quick! There's a bug on the carpet! Get something to kill it!

Me, scrambling around the kitchen: You don't have any paper towels! There's nothing to kill with in here!

Jess: Oh wait, it's just a doodle bug (translation-roly poly)...*whew*

Me: Do I still need to find something to kill it?

Jess: WAIT WAIT, it has fur! It's not a doodle bug! GROSS! QUICK! Man, that thing's fast! Anna, GET SOME TOILET PAPER! DON'T LET IT GET AWAY!

Me: I think it's just a doodle bug.

Jess: It doesn't have armadillo scales and it's WAY too quick! Aaaah!

Anna: Yeah, doodle bugs just roll up in a ball. That thing's running!

Jess, with insane swirly Cruela Deville eyes after smooshing the mystery bug to smithereens: AAAAH! THAT'S IT! I'M VACUUMING!