Get Your Pickup Truck Out of My Space, Girl

In addition to all of the other pressures and stresses of institute, there is one thing that I need to get off my chest. I fucking HATE my roommate. I am currently sitting in the bottom bunk of my bed because this is the only clean place in our room to sit. If I were to take a picture of my dorm, you would notice that 80 percent of the floor space is covered in shit. Knee-deep shit. However, I can’t show you a picture of my dorm room because I loaned by usb cable to her several weeks ago and have not seen it sense. If you were able to see my room, you would probably think, “wow, those two girls are really slobs.” But I would have to stop you right there and point out that the only thing of mine that is on this floor is my school box that takes up about a 1 ft x 1 ft space. Everything else is hers: dirty clothes, empty and full take-out boxes, a fermenting styrofoam cup where she spits after she is done brushing her teeth (because she is too lazy to go to the bathroom) and puts her watermelon that she doesn’t want to eat. She browses facebook for hours at a time on my computer because she can’t find hers buried under a pile of garbage somewhere. She is out drinking right now and all I can do is pray that she comes home sober enough to climb her fucking Southern ass up to the top bunk so she doesn’t try to climb in bed with me (like she did last week) and roll over and talk to me while she tries to remember whether she got fucked by Jim or just merely fingered. She sleeps for 12 hours a day sometimes and on nights when I am only getting 3 hours that really pisses me off. She wakes up in the morning with 0 out of 4 lesson plans prepared and I can only pray that she gets kicked out of TFA. However, I don’t think this is likely to happen because we were just informed by our program director that it is likely we will both be placed at the same school in the RGV. And all I can think to myself is, “not if I don’t pick her lazy, irritating, shit-faced ass up and throw it out the 14^th floor window before we get there.”

And another thing! Would it kill us to get a little air conditioning in here!?!

Digging Deep

and hitting bottom.

Two and a half weeks seems awfully far away.

Goddamn Right It's A Beautiful Day

When I was a kid, I don't think I realized how the teachers probably looked forward to the weekend more than I did.

Let's hear it for Friday!

Boots down, bottle up...

Troutcher

On morning duty in the cafeteria today Angelica walked up to me shyly and showed me her homework. I was ecstatic, especially considering that I did not assign homework last night. Although I did not get a chance to read her essay until after I was done teaching for the day, I was so proud of her that I started to read it out loud to some of my fellow teachers who were sitting around debriefing with me. Toward the end, I had to stop reading because my voice was shaking so badly. Apparently I have to enforce legal ramifications now.

The way I grew up was harD for me mom hated me my Dad left couldnt think right. My mom alway even untill this Day that my DaD is Back my mom blemes me that is my flaut that He left us. I Love my family but some ties I hate my mom is a gruge. A gruge that I have inside and I know that it seem crazy but some time I troutcher my mom any way posible. Sometime in my mind I think wey Dont I Kill her. As I said I know it seem crazy what I think in my mind but what I heard from my Brother. My Brother told me that she was burning his hands just Because he got $10 from her purse. My brother Did get burn the thing was so hot he tought there was a scar.

It's the second day kids. I'm not ready for this shit.

Take 2

and so it begins

One Day

Today I am sick. Too sick to get on the school bus at 6:30 and too sick to get out of bed until just now. Fevered, shaking, sweating, and cold, I dream of this place.

To Troxell Hall

In the Rio In the Rio Grande Valley there are palm trees and tropical flowers lining the streets. There are 310 kinds of butterflies and 500 kinds of birds. Then there is pavement, cement, and cinder blocks as far as the eye can see. In the Rio Grande Valley the streets are paved and filled with cars and booming industry. Then you fight back tears and nausea as you rinse the raw sewage and dirt off your shoes. In the Rio Grande Valley there are bridges lined by begging hands that lead to rows of dentists and pharmacies. In the Rio Grande Valley you meet skeptical eyes asking the question, "Why the hell did you come here?" Then you meet eyes that don't yet know they're supposed to be skeptical. In the Rio Grande Valley you remember who you used to be, and who you used to want to be. Then you are just grateful for who you are. In the Rio Grande Valley you remember the conditions that make people who they are. In the Rio Grande Valley things aren't different, but you know they're not the same. You see billboards and stores just like from home, but they're not at all like the ones you know. In the Rio Valley you can feel the heat, the tension, the hope, the disillusionment, and the desperation rising from the ground. Then you forget about the rest of those things and just focus on the heat.

Lights, Camera, Action

I pulled up to Moody Towers in Houston today at about 4:00 pm Central Time. Just as I was about to turn off my car and check in, these lines came through my speakers.

I don't really know what I'm doing
Just watching myself in some play
And the actress looks like she wants to go home
And lie in bed all day
Yeah lie in a big bed all day

Now THAT is something I can sympathize with. There are so many other things that have been going on that I can't yet express, but she summed up that one for me.

I wish I had time to write now, but I am slowly eeking into the 3 or 4 hours of sleep I will get tonight and every night for the next five weeks. This is one hell of a play that I am putting on right now.

Waiting (and counting)

She was standing at the corner of commerce and soledad.
Brown skin, brown hair, blue dress, counting eyes and moving lips.
Three white, two black, one red, one silver.
Eight in all this stop, three hundred and eight so far this morning.
Light changed to green and she would start again.
One blue, one black, one green, one black, one white. Stop. Start again.

Maybe out of sympathy or camaraderie, I started counting too.
Counting things that went wrong and things that went right.
Counting time.
Miles (1315).
Songs.
Kisses.
Wishes.

Mejor

Yup, today has been much better. The highways were lined with wildflowers, the people were friendly and not at all like zombies, the Spanish markets were busy, the river walk was lush, the dancing and music were plentiful, and the margaritas were cheap (and plentiful).

I think I could take a day off the road and spend another night here.

Ugliest Town I've Ever Seen

So far, my experiences in Texas can be summed up in two words: 'da fuck?

Maybe it's just because I just spent all day driving and so have been mostly singing and talking to myself and Pikachu (whom I now just call 'achu'), but everything in this state seems to be more than a little bit messed up. I am bewildered by the acres of wind farms right next to the acres of oil refineries, the huge statues by the highway of a suffering Jesus Christ, the deer that ran into my car, the optimism in the travel literature that covers up the crappiness of the places, town names like 'New Deal' and 'Justiceburg,' and the friendly people who smile at you in a way that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. That description doesn't make it sound much different from other Midwest interstate towns that I've been too, and maybe it's not. The thing that scares me the most about places like this is that they seem so eerily empty. Even though there are cars on the highway, the hotels are almost full, and there are malls and grocery stores, these towns and the people in these towns seem like they are just waiting to die or get blown away. You can smell it and taste it in the air.

Also, I just got back from a disappointing trip around the city of Abilene. I was looking for three things (and I would have been happy to find just one of them), but I struck out. First, I was looking for a car wash. My poor civic is all beat up and filthy too, but I guess I will have to take care of her another day. I was also looking for the reason why Abilene is the prettiest town that one guy's ever seen, but I am afraid that he must have been talking about a different Abilene. I took a couple of pictures of my dirty car and the dirty city, but I can't find my camera cord right now so I will have to post them later. I was also looking for a decent looking place to find some food and someone to talk to, but all the places and all of the people here scare me so I ordered a pizza to my hotel room instead.

In spite of all of those things, the road trip has actually been a pretty good time for me. It's been nice to have some time to relax and be a goofball by myself in my car. I think I left most of the small voices and the stress somewhere in Southern Colorado, and now I am happy and calm. Even though I have enjoyed the time by myself, I think that two days is more than enough of that for me, and I am starting to ache for someone to talk to. I am bored and starting to get lonely. Tomorrow afternoon I will be in San Antonio and hopefully the people will be a little less like white-trash zombies.