2008

was a year of tears.
So many they can't be counted,
but every last one can still be felt.
It was a year of hard lessons.
Of learning how small twists
can make a big difference,
and how even when you want to make a difference,
the world is big and you are small.

It was a year of fear.
And of drowning in uncertainty,
so much that you forget what it felt like to be found.
It was a year of loss and of losing yourself.
Of finding your limits, passing them,
and hanging on by a thread.

It was a year of loneliness,
but it was never a year of being alone.
It was a year where you learned
the true value of a plane ticket,
and how much it can mean
to just hear to phone ring at the end of the day.
It was a year of learning to catch,
and learning how to let yourself be caught.

Yes, it was a year of struggle.
But it is also at the end of this year,
that you feel the most lucky of all.

What's it going to take

to bring a smile again?
to make me care again?
to want to try again?
to want to feel again?
to make me plan again?
to make it all okay again?
to make me start again?
to stop the tears again?

Losing the star without a sky
Losing the reasons why
You're losing the calling that you've been faking
And I'm not kidding

Its damned if you don't and its damned if you do
Be true cause they'll lock you up in a sad sad zoo
Oh hidy hidy hidy what cha tryin to prove
By hidy hidy hiding you're not worth a thing

Sew your fortunes on a string
And hold them up to light
Blue smoke will take
A very violent flight
And you will be changed
Sand everything

All Good

It is almost 7 o'clock on Sunday night and I am sitting in bed with a cat purring by my side while I finish off the bottle of wine that kept me pleasantly buzzed this weekend. I am all prepared for tomorrow and the upcoming week at work. Physical therapy is done. Basketball is almost done. Colorado is coming soon.

What is even better is that I can feel myself start coming to life again. I did things this weekend that made me feel like me again. At times, I had to stop and make myself think about what these things are. Just like some people ask themselves "what would Jesus do?" I have to ask myself "what would I do?" in order to get myself active and out of my mental hibernation, but in time these things will start to come naturally again.

I love this time of the year in Texas because it feels like spring time in Colorado. I can walk around for the next 4 months pretending that summer is just around the bend, and then I can actually start planning my move. Packing. Ordering a U-Haul. Buying a plane ticket. I know things won't be easy once I get out of here, but at least I will be able to be me again.

Found this version last night at some point. I couldn't tell if it was the wine that made it seem so good, but when I woke up this morning it was still in my head. Don't know what the video is all about, but whatever...

I wrote something there, but it just wasn't what I should have been writing. It's what I've written before. What I should have been writing is this:

I like kittens and apple pie. I need a beer and I need to stop worrying about what happens tomorrow. I'm not back in my groove yet, but I'll get there after a couple of days. In 3 more weeks I'll be back in Colorado, and in 6 more months I'll be free. So self-pity and loneliness are not allowed here. Only kittens, apple pie, and beer.

My First Pie

Walking on the beach with your best friend

can help with a lot of things.

It gives you perspective on joy and pain. You know you have had them both, and you know they will both come again, but you also know they will pass. And you also know your friend will be there for both those things.

The repetitive motion of the waves and of one foot following the other stops the mind from spiraling out of control. Every time a wave comes in it seems to whisper, "Stop thinking. Everything is okay. The world will keep on going and the waves will keep on coming. Don't believe me? Here comes another one..."

Most importantly, it gives you hope. Hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that the bad things will end and good things will begin. It gives you hope to start planning and looking to the future again. Enough to pull you up from where you've been, and hopefully enough to keep you going.

A Seaside Thanksgiving

When you have to take yourself out on a date first,

why even bother?

There are some things that you look forward to, but you know deep down that the reality of the experience is never going to be as good as what you are building it up to be.

This is not one of those things.

There are certain parts of my leg that I still cannot feel. I haven't told anyone yet because these places are small and they do not seem to limit my ability or my motion. Plus I think I am holding out hope that someday soon my senses will wake up. For now, it's easy to ignore these small places and pretend like everything is normal again. But the truth is that about once a week I lay in bed, take out a pen or paper clip and start stabbing myself in hopes of eliciting some sort of sensory recognition. My hand recognizes that it has hit something and cannot move anymore, but that is the only reason I know I am being poked or stabbed.

During my post-op recovery, when doctors were always taking bandages off my leg, they would apologize for having to cause me pain by ripping off the tape. I just smiled and told them it was okay, but they had to do it fast. I didn't tell them I wouldn't have been able to feel it no matter how quickly or slowly they pulled.

When I went out on my date last night, he put his hand on one of those places that I cannot feel. Maybe that's why my heart didn't beat quickly at his touch.

I was at work for 16 hours today, from 6:30 am to 10:30 pm. In that time I taught math for 300 minutes, had a parent conference for 60 minutes, made copies of math worksheets for 45 minutes, made copies of girls physicals for 30 minutes, passed out uniforms for 45 minutes, sold tickets to the basketball game for 45 minutes (while I tutored some of my students), kept the book/clock for 2 basketball games that lasted 210 minutes, and then coached my own game, which lasted 90 minutes. During my basketball game I had to play 18 girls, 2 of which I'd never met before. The game went to overtime and we lost by a free throw. The final score? 5-6.

Now I am sitting in my bed drinking beer and eating a loaf of cheese bread, which is the only thing I have had to eat since I had a turkey sandwich about 12 hours ago.

I am feeling a little off-balance. I need a vacation.

I have also found a new child I want to adopt. Sometimes I feel like leaving me in a school is as dangerous as leaving me in an animal shelter; I will always find someone else who needs saving.

Doesn't Take Much

But we are fragile, aren't we? It doesn't take much to rip us up, and it's even worse when it's more than a lot.

I remember once I was standing in the living room and I had broken a piece of my mom's china. I don't know where she got it from, but she put it on the bookshelf for safekeeping and I accidentally nudged it enough that it came falling down. Even though it fell on carpet I guess it was fragile enough to break into several different pieces. And I just remember standing there trying to put all the pieces back together, but I didn't have enough hands to hold them all together. And even if I had more hands it wouldn't have mattered because that china wasn't going to grow back together. I never told my mom and I wonder if she ever noticed it was missing. If she did, she never said anything.

This past year or two has been a lesson in human fragility. At school I see misbehavior in students and I immediately start to wonder what must be happening to them outside of school to make them act like that inside school. It could just be that some kids would be messed up no matter what, but I think a lot of it has to be cause and effect.

In my own life I can see myself trying to hold all the pieces together, just as if they were pieces of broken china. But I don't have enough hands, and I don't know if I can get them to stick back together, anyway. When I look up, though, I see lots of people around me trying to do the exact same thing. Maybe what we all need is an extra set of hands, but everyone's got theirs full already.

Yellow bird flying gets shot in the wing
Good year for hunters and Christmas parties...

Code Breaking

I'm not broke, but you can see the cracks

Right now in my classes I am trying to review basic skills with my students. I hate this part of the year because it seems like no matter how far back I go, I need to go back farther with them. I go back to review place value and how to order decimals, but this is pointless because most of my students don't understand the purpose of a decimal point. They don't understand the difference between a whole number and a fraction. They don't understand that in numbers like 15 and 3000, even if you don't see a decimal point, there is one at the end of all the numbers. So they can't tell the difference between the number 501 and .501.

I go back to teach them how to multiply fractions, and even though they understand the process, they get the answers wrong because they don't know how to reduce. So I review how to reduce but they don't understand because they don't know how to tell if I number is divisible by 5, 4, 3 or even by 2. So I ask them the difference between even and odd numbers, and they don't know the answer to that either. And this is in my advanced class.

Meanwhile, on the weekends I have been very into solving sudoku puzzles. I take the hardest ones and dive in for half an hour or so. I like them because they are complicated enough that it takes my full attention to be able to figure them out. I can't let my mind wander into thinking about how to teach children the difference between even and odd numbers. I also like them because they are easy enough that I can use logic to find a solution. Not like trying to find a solution to how to teach kids all of these things, when the things I am really supposed to be teaching them are how to solve equations and the Pythagorean Theorem.

On the other hand, I prefer to think about how to solve a problem like teaching, than to think about how to solve a problem like how to stay happy while I am here. The "fuck you" attitude gets me through the weeks, but the weekends are where things start to break down. Those hours by myself are when I can really start to feel the cracks. Once I get down this track, it is only the blasting music of my car stereo system that helps me focus my thoughts and get back to something that I can handle.

N is for Neville Who Died of Ennui

After giving it some thought, I have decided there is one way I can get through these next 9 months . If I can pull this one thing off, then the time will fly relatively quickly and I'll be out of this place without a scratch. If I can't do it, then I will probably have the most painful and longest 9 months of my life to date. But, it should be relatively simple.

See, the only I have to do is really love my job. I have to take all the parts I like about my job and dedicate myself to those things, and I have to take all the parts I hate and forget about them. What that means, I think, is that I have to go in there everyday with a big smile and be prepared to laugh, listen to music, and joke around with kids. I have to be well-rested and relaxed every single day. I also have to be prepared to neglect my planning and organization duties. Fuck 'em. I mean, I have to be the most unorganized, unprepared teacher at that school. If I have to wing every single lesson from now until April, I will. It's not like I am going out for teacher of the year here. I am just going to do my best to survive.

(P.S. In no way do I represent Teach For America in these statements. They would probably kick me out on the spot if they heard these things.)

Sometimes I feel it's easier to pretend you've found what you're looking for than to find the strength to keep looking.

Refrain: I need something, to believe in.

In Case You Need To Smile

My momma told me don’t lose you
Cause the best luck I had was you
And I know one thing that I love you
I said I be gone today but I’ll be back around the way
It seems like everywhere I go
The more I see the less I know
But I know one thing for sure

Vacation

I was so lucky to be able to take a trip last weekend where I got to do all the things I love to do, with the company I love to do things with, and be the person I love to be. It all felt so good that even though I was fighting a cold and an infection, I just couldn't stop. I smiled, climbed, danced, and sang until I collapsed and couldn't stop my shaking body from feeling overwhelmed by the full force of joyous exhaustion.

Now I am back and I just can't go. Eight and a half months seems like a long time away, and right now I don't feel like I have the mental or physical strength to get through it. I don't even feel like I have the strength to start back up again tomorrow. I need something in my life to be easy right now. I know it could always be worse, but could there be just one thing that is a little bit better? I can't dwell on this thought for too long. I know it is a selfish, self-pitying one, but it is the sum of blood, puss, pain, tears, piled up bills, failed lesson plans, failed hope, failed relationships, 12-hour days, and long, lonely nights. If I could take just one of these things and make it go away, I think I could handle the next 8.5 months easily. With all these things to face, I am not quite sure how I'll do it.

Smile

I have the best friend in the whole world.

Indie Rock

The thing I often find with Indie artists is that they have one song that I really like, but then the rest of their songs are too repetitive and whiny for me to deal with. I can't decide if this band is any different, but I am going to post this song while I think about it. They have at least a handful of songs that I enjoy.

Even the cameraman is dancing (he's making me sick)

So if you're ever feeling down,
Grab your purse and take a taxi,
To the darker side of town,
That's where we'll be,
And we will wait for you and lead you through the dancefloor,
Up to the D.J booth,
You know what to ask for,
You know what to ask for.

Go ask for Joy Division,
And celebrate the irony,
Everything is going wrong,
But we're so happy.

Today in class, while discussing the definition of "rational numbers."

Me: So has anyone ever heard the word rational before?

Student (raises hand): Miss, is that like that thing you have all over your body?

Me (puzzled): What? Oh my rash? No, it's not quite that. But you're right, I have been itching all day long.


I want to die, but at least my kids are clever.

I Just Remembered Monday Is A Holiday

Not for me. But for the doctors.

Talk About An Identity Crisis

I had no idea that gummy bears were so elusive, or multi-cultural. I mean, apparently these guys could be speaking English, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Mandarin, or Indonesian. Those are some pretty fucking amazing bears. No wonder they cost 4 dollars a bag.

The thing about healing is

it just takes so long to do.

Shouldn't the bruises be gone by now?
Shouldn't I be strong enough by now?
Shouldn't I be faster by now?
Shouldn't it hurt less by now?

Don't get me wrong, it gets better everyday. Just not as quickly as I want it to.

I Get It

The term is called "fuck buddies."

Now I know what we are. Silly me.

Perspective

It's a funny thing when you get to see yourself through someone else's eyes. Rather, it's a funny thing when you get to see one of your past selves through the eyes of your current self. My first day back at work and I look into the eyes of the new teachers and see the exact same fear that I felt. I can read their minds and hear them asking themselves what the fuck they got into. I can see how they are going to struggle this next year. And now I know what everyone must have thought of me on my first day.

But I don't let them know that I can see their fear. I tell them that I imagine they must be a little nervous, but they aren't showing it at all and I can tell they are going to be great. I tell them how prepared and impressive they are. I tell them all those things because that is what other people said to me, and even though I now know it was a lie, it felt so good at the time, and it made me act a little braver.

Strange how hard it rained

For the first time in a long time I want to believe in God. Last time I really remember wanting to believe I was in the passenger seat of my mother's car, it was dark outside, I was scared and alone and I wanted a friend. I was 15 then and I guess that says a lot about how easy my life has been, and still is. Now I want to believe in God because I wish I had something comforting to say, even though I know it would still hurt. This is not to say that I feel inadequate, just that I wish there were some God damned comfort in the world. Something beyond what I could give. Something to balance out the pain. Maybe it's not so much that I want to believe in God, it's that I wish there were a God. I wish there were a God because I wish for those things for my friends.

On the other hand, I know that the best we are going to get is each other, and that can be as good or as bad as we make it. I know that people can be kind when the world is cruel. Whether it comes in the form of flowers, cards, gummy bears, smiles, hugs, airplane tickets, or phone calls; if we can get outside ourselves long enough to notice other people's sorrows, it makes us gentler and more compassionate creatures. And it puts some other things into perspective so that petty things are no longer such a big deal. Yes, you can often see the best in people when the world is at its worst, but sometimes I feel like our best just isn't good enough. I guess all we can do is give what we have, and then keep on giving.

I kept on looking for quotes, and didn't find any that seemed to help. This is as close as I got...

There are three things which are real:
God, human folly, and laughter.
The first two are beyond our comprehension
so we must do what we can with the third.

That is from the Ramayana. To make this quote true for me I would alter the first two things. I would switch God to beauty or something else, and I would cross out the word "human" so that it was just talking about the folly of the world. But I do believe that bit about laughter and how doing that and trying to make ourselves and each other happy is about the best we can do.

Epiphany Number 1:

I have a home.

That makes all the difference and is not to be treated lightly. Plans must be made accordingly.

Return

I have been thinking a lot in the past week or two. It feels good to be able to have my brain working and processing things again, for a while there I was scared because it seemed I either had nothing good to think about, or I had lost the ability to think the way I used to. I walked around feeling numb and fuzzy inside; my eyes were glazed over and things in my head weren't connecting like they used to. I'm still not exactly sure what the problem was (many contributing factors), but at least for now, it is gone. Now I am thinking so much that it doesn't turn off, but I don't have the patience to sit down and try to write it all out. It's coming in waves, and there is just too much to try to organize it all into nice, neat postings here.

The main point of all my thinking is this: I can remember who I was, I know who I am now, and I can again see other people clearly. The amnesia is gone. I am no longer working off breadcrumbs that I left for myself months and years ago. Suddenly things are clicking and I can give sure answers to things that I was vague and undecided on before. I need to write all these things out so that I have them once school starts and my brain turns to mush again, but I have leg lifts and stretches to do now, and it is focusing on these small, productive activities that is making the big picture so accessible.

The Wasting

As a somewhat open minded, 20-something, there are few things that I would come right out and say that I hate. I have been trained through a liberal education to try to find the value of everything and to rationalize and see the world through other people's eyes. I am, however, becoming fairly good at listing the things that I hate to have in my own life. These things may work for other people, but I hate when I find myself doing them.

The thing I hate the most is wasted time. I define wasted time as time that is not used to either actively think or do something. Almost anything, really. It is for this reason that I hate television, board games, video games, and my current state of being. Right now I feel like I have wasted the better part of a summer, and now I am trapped in a state where I waste nearly all my time. Right now my only options are to lay on the couch and watch television or lay in bed and daydream. Activities that used to take seconds and no forethought whatsoever now take several minutes and a considerable amount of planning and engineering. Example: right now I am sitting on the couch in the living room, and I need to get my phone, a pillow, and a book that are in my room. Normally I could stand up, walk to my room, pick those three things up and come back in literally 5-10 seconds. Now, however, I have to slowly and painfully pick my leg up off the couch and put it on the ground, while I sit myself up on the couch. Then I have to pick my crutches up off the ground and lean them against the couch, put my hands back to the couch so I can push up to the point where I can stand, grab my crutches, and walk slowly to my room. The doctors told me to walk in a different way now, so for every step I have to swing my right leg backward, then swing it forward, plant the heel of my foot down slightly in front of me, and roll my weight forward to the ball of my foot. It takes several minutes for me to walk the short distance down the hallway to my room. Additionally, I will probably have to make several trips back and forth to my room, because I can carry only one thing at a time, not all three things at once.

What's worse is that the pain killers I am on make me sleepy and my thoughts fuzzy so I can't really carry on a sustained thought process. I can't write, nor read, nor carry on conversation, nor prepare myself for the upcoming school year. I lay around all day feeling like I either just woke up, or like I have been up for days and need to go to sleep. I think I am going to stop taking them soon, I can't stand this Rip Van Winkle-esque existence. The only thing pulling me through right now is the thought that I will never again have to waste this much time.

Just Plain Scary

When you don't have anything to do, you sometimes find very weird things on the Internet. Today, that weird thing is this: "Please Don't Vote For A Democrat." Apparently this guy has a billboard up somewhere. It says, surprisingly enough, "Please Don't Vote For A Democrat" and features pictures of the Twin Towers burning.

My favorite line is
"Republicans, we're not perfect but we know the truth
We uphold the Constitution and the Golden Rule."

Right. We do unto others, as we would want done unto us. We would love to be invaded for fictitious reasons. Why hasn't anyone overthrown our leader yet? And the Constitution has definitely been upheld the past decade. I'm not even going to go there.

And that is today's number 1 reason to start investigating Canadian citizenship.

If You Are At All Interested In Education

(and have 30 minutes to kill) click here and watch the video.

This is the woman I read about in the Economist article a few days ago. Incidentally, she is also a TFA alum (you can tell because she uses the words "relentless" and "highly effective") and maybe my new personal hero. This segment is much better than the Wendy Kopp interview.

I have had my issues with TFA, but still agree with many of the basic principles that they champion. Plus, this woman kicks ass and makes me feel motivated again. I am ready for August to come.

I Belong A Long Way From Here

I know that's not quite the line, but it's what I heard when Sheryl Crow sang it on the radio today, and I thought, "me too."

(Just listen to the first stanza, the rest of it is overplayed enough. Although she does rock pretty hard.)

Sugar In My Bowl

You are not for me.
I know this because I cannot remember where you want to go to college, where you have lived, worked, or traveled, nor the names of your close relatives. I don't fret over these details, my subconscious must not count them important enough to take note of. I ask questions, then let my mind wander. I could probably relay more information about the decor of the restaurants where we have dined than I could about our topics of discussion while inside. I am making an effort at the art of conversation, but it's just not clicking, and it's hard to say who lost interest first. You are not for me and I am not for you. I know this because you don't even ask the questions. At least then you don't have to feel bad for not remembering the answers. You know a lot of facts, and make an effort to show me all I don't know. When I first met you I could look into your eyes forever, but when I told you that you just looked away.

You are not for me, either.
But at the end of the day we can have a conversation and we both walk away feeling good about ourselves. I can remember the position you played on your high school basketball team, that you don't like avocado, but you do like Charles Barkley, and I know the year you'll be eligible to run for president. You laugh at my jokes, are grateful for the dinners I make, and come talk to me about things that you think are too serious for your girlfriend. It's not a big deal, but I still remember the night that you told me the way you like to be kissed, and recently your slightly flirtatious comments can keep me awake at night. You are not for me and I am not for you, but you look me in the eye and smile.

A good idea to close the achievement gap:

http://www.economist.com/world/na/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11707298

I Need To Be Near Hills

Next time I am choosing a place to live, it needs to have the nearby opportunity to walk up and down. Flat land bores me.

A Good One

on Sliding Doors, Crashing Cars, Making Love, and other interactions

In the past few months there have been many random occurrences in my life. I guess, if you think the way I do, most things in life are without reason, but I have found myself thinking "what the fuck?" even more often than usual these days. There have been fender benders, weird relationships, personal injuries, and fortuitous finds in the street. Some of these things have left me feeling naive, powerless and paralyzed, unable to make a decision or choose a path in life, some have given me strength, confidence, and the feeling that I possess wisdom beyond my age, and some have left me feeling just stupidly lucky (or the opposite).

And, at the end (or, more likely, the middle or beginning) of all of these things, I want to say, "Life, could you give me something to work with?"

So I am sitting here on the couch, drinking some God-awful beer that my roommates left in the fridge. I have a stray dog sleeping by my left foot, and my cell phone by my side in case Josh returns my call so I can break up with him because he is either entirely uninterested IN me or completely uninteresting TO me. And as I am sitting here, I am trying to find a purpose in everything. Not a God-given purpose, but a Me-given purpose. I don't think any event has any more or less of a purpose than I assign to it, but I am sitting here wondering, "What purpose will I give the event of hurting my knee? What will I learn from it? How will it affect me?" or "What purpose will dating Josh have served? What will I see differently about myself and about the world now?" or "How does finding this dog change the way I look at the prospect of living in South Texas for another year?" or

(The phone rings, hold these thoughts.

He's at the bar. I told him to call me back when he wasn't at the bar. Sascha is whimpering, I think she can tell I am upset.)

or "Why the fuck don't people take better care of their dogs?" It's no wonder we don't take better care of each other.

To boil it down, I guess I am just looking for lessons. Morals from these stories. That's what nice about fairy tales, they are so didactic. The reasonable side of my head tells me that's also why they're fantasies.

Serendipity

Placeholders

And What I am to you is not real
What I am to you, you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for the sea...

What I give to you is just what I'm going through
This is nothing new, no, no just another phase of finding
what I really need

(something to believe in)

I Heart Hillary

"Although we weren't able to shatter that highest, hardest glass ceiling this time, thanks to you, it's got about 18 million cracks in it. The light is shining through like never before, filling us all with the hope and the sure knowledge that the path will be a little easier next time."

PostSecret

sometimes makes me appreciate human strength. It helps me see that everyone has struggles to endure, and that many people go through these things gracefully and with a sense of humor. Viewing that web of universal struggle helps me feel connected to those around me and inspired to make things a little bit easier for strangers and friends alike.

Other times, however, it makes me feel that people are all much weaker than I had originally assumed. It leaves me with the feeling that most people are bogged down in trivialities, that they are too short-sighted to distinguish between things of real importance and things that should just roll off their back. Viewing this side makes me want to shake some people awake, telling them to lift their heads up and get a bigger picture.

Welcome Back To Colorado

It's from far away, but you can still see his hips moving.

Summer

"You should soon have all the tools you'll need to start moving forward towards creating a more rewarding future for yourself. So now would be a good time to figure out where you'd really like to go and to plan and prepare wisely so that you won't have to end up making excuses for yourself later."

Closer to the edge

Okay, so that is a little over the top, but somewhere inside of me there is an outraged person screaming.

About to break? That's a little too melodramatic.

About to get kind of moody and maybe have a beer? That's more appropriate. But less fun to shout.

Roller coasters

Yesterday I rode them all day long. I like to ride roller coasters because I like adrenaline, free fall, speed, all the pretty views you get from such great heights, and I like anything that fills me so full of excitement. My favorite ones are the ones that take you up the highest, because then you get the best views combined with the longest free falls.

My favorite ride from yesterday was one called Superman. It's 168 feet tall (nearly 16 stories), and it is made even better by the fact that the ride is built up right along the side of the cliffs and waterfalls that surround the Six Flags in San Antonio. The ride starts by taking you up to the top of one of those cliffs, then makes a curve and drops you so you are falling right along the side of one of those cliffs and heading straight for one of the little ponds at the bottom.

I digress from the point of this story. The point of this story is that on the bus ride home, if I closed my eyes, I still felt like I was twisting and falling through space like I had been all day long. In fact, every time I closed them I had to open them again just to reassure myself that I was NOT on a roller coaster. And, even though I took my knee brace off as soon as I got on the bus, I could still feel its pressure and itchy material on my skin. I also had to double check that to make sure that I had actually taken if off like I remembered.

So, the point of this story is that sometimes things stay with you long after the situation has changed. No matter how many times I told myself that it wasn't possible for me to be falling, nor was it possible for the brace to still be on my leg, my brain was so used to those feelings and activities that it could still make me feel like those things were going on. Now, the things that I was doing only lasted a day, and the subconscious memory of those things only lasted a few hours, but I can understand how it can be so hard for people to change who they are or how they see the world.

I don't know where this train of thought is taking me, other than to cliches. I really want to understand how the brain works. It fascinates me.

Prime Numbers

This is how you work out what prime numbers are.

First you write down all the positive whole numbers in the world.

Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 2. Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 3. Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and so on. The numbers that are left are the prime numbers.

The rule for working out prime numbers is really simple, but no one has ever worked out a simple formula for telling you whether a very big number is a prime number or what the next one will be. If a number is really, really big, it can take computer years to work out whether it is a prime number.

Prime numbers are useful for writing codes and in America they are classed as Military Material and if you find one over 100 digits long you have to tell the CIA and they buy it off you for $10,000. But it would not be a very good way of making a living.

Prime numbers are what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you could never work out the rules, even if you spent all you time thinking about them.

**The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Mark Haddon

Remember When He Used To Dress Up Like Xena: Warrior Princess?

Crossroads

Today in class one of my students started playing this song. They were a little sad to learn that it came out when I was in middle school (and is therefore an "old" song), but for some reason it made me incredibly happy to hear it again.

There's no poetry between us

Neither passion, sparks, nor butterflies.

But there is something to be said for comfort.

Maya Looks Like This

The Mountains In Monterrey Look Like This

SAG

"an abbreviation referring to a Socially Awkward Guy or Girl"

It's a cruel thing how liking a person does this to you, and a crueler thing that displaying these symptoms of liking a person are the very thing that turn them away from you. This, of course, only makes you more desperate and, in turn, more socially awkward.

I think I might puke.
Or cry.

Numbers and a Weekly Recap

On Tuesday my grandmother went to the doctor because her heart has been acting up again. The doctor told her what needs to be done, but she is still deciding if she's got the fight left in her to go through with it. I don't know how many years is too many, nor how many is too many to be alone, but I think she might have a word or two to say about it. I overheard a conversation in the form of a prayer once, "Harold, it was awfully cruel and unfair for you to leave me when I still have so much time left before I can follow."

On Wednesday my brother crashed (maybe totaled) the car that I so carefully purchased before I realized it was the completely wrong choice for me. I don't know how much damage is too much to fix, but I do know that 1 car is too few cars for my family to drive.

On Thursday one of my students gave me a bracelet. It is made of links of silver crosses filled with colorful jewels. Although the crosses won't make me think of Jesus, they will remind me of the power of human relationships. I don't know how much I have taught them about math, nor what I have taught them about anything else, but I know I will never forget everything they have taught me. Never underestimate what you can do for a person, nor what a person can do for you.

On Friday someone said the word "crab cakes" and it brought tears to my eyes. Memories of warm rides, leathers, and concerts came like a flash flood. I don't know how far is too far, but I do know that this much is too much. Never underestimate what you can do for a person, nor what a person can do for you.

There is no moon reflecting in your eyes
no romantic midnight skies
no motive to disguise
It's not your man that you're dreaming of
your heart couldn't care enough
you're too tired to be in love...

or to be much of anything, for that matter

Can't you see I'm trying?
I don't even like it. I just lied to
Try to keep on going, now I'm staying
Here just for a while
I can't think 'cause I'm just way too tired

Is this it?
Is this it?
Is this... it?

One Part Mexican, One Part Stupid

Lately I have pretty much been feeling like a South-Texan-Mexican. I base this feeling on several acquired habits which I am demonstrating.

Habit 1:
I now crave Hot Cheetos con limon, queso, y jalapeños.

Habit 2:
I get my water from those water stations that are every two blocks down here.

Habit 3:
I feel comfortable when it is 80+ degrees inside my house.

Habit 4:
I put hot sauce on the table to be used as a condiment in virtually every meal.

Habit 5:
I instinctively yell "Chinga pendejo!" when my coworkers play pranks on me.

So, tonight I decided to take the next step and try my hand at Mexican cooking beyond tacos and nachos. I was craving some good chicken tortilla soup, and had a bunch of necessary ingredients lying around the house, so I got out my knives and got to work. I was not following a recipe or really any previous knowledge of how to make tortilla soup, so perhaps that was foolish of me.

The good news is that I believe it had the potential to be very delicious. The bad news is that I over-estimated my spice-tolerance when I chopped up those 3 giant jalapeño peppers and threw them in the mix. This one little oversight has rendered my tortilla soup virtually inedible (at least by me). Next time, I will only need 1 (MAYBE 2) peppers. Lesson learned.

I guess I am not Mexican after all. At least not yet...

What You Can, What You Can't

You can give yourself many things,
but not everything.

You can create a world of happiness for yourself.
It can be a good world where everything is wonderful,
but it can't be a world of joy.
You can't give yourself joy.

You can learn to take pleasure in the small things,
to hold babes when they cry,
and celebrate their little victories.
But you can't stop yourself,
from drawing significance from things that don't mean a thing,
nor from feeling nostalgia for places you've never been.

And sometimes you realize that you're just sitting in the back seat,
watching the crack in the windshield spread its legs,
while the rain comes down outside,
and washes it all away.

January 24, 2008

A day that will live in infamy.

The first day I had to turn on the heat.

There is a heaven

and you get to it through an aluminum trailer.

(the line to get into heaven)

Ha

Yup, this about sums it up.

Triage

I have been performing educational triage all night long. There just aren't enough hours in the day or days in the week to do everything that needs to be done here. I feel like some of the lowest students are finally starting to believe me when I tell them they are smart enough to do what I am asking them to do. Now I have to turn around and tell them that, actually, they aren't.

House Where Nobody Lives

There's a house where I used to live
That's crowded and loud
I moved out of it a long time ago
But they all stayed with their things
Don't know when they'll ever get out
Feels like it's abandoned
Cause nobody talks
They don't know what to say
And that's why I call it
The house, the house
Where nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away
Did they know what it means
Did someone's heart break
Or did someone do somebody wrong?

Well many things were broken
Nothing was getting fixed
Underneath the snow
The weeds were grown high
Bugs were dying in the sink
Stuck in big globs of toothpaste
Been laying there for days
But they aren't the only things
That are trapped
In the house where nobody lives.