Heavy Wet Eyes and a Punch in the Chest

I counted the days to my moving to the same zip code as my boyfriend and it’s 64 days. SIXTY FOUR! I can’t decide if I’m okay with it, or if when I counted the days I was hoping it would be less. When I got fifty, I have to admit I was so disappointed. I thought I’d count and it would be like 40 days, but instead it’s almost a month more.

With the semester reaching a climax work is piling up around me and having not seen my love for a month (which doesn’t seem long saying it out, but I’m so over it) and knowing it’s going to be another month before I see him is really killing me. We have a rule where we don’t say “I miss you” to each other because it’s not healthy to dwell and isn’t it obvious that we miss each other. If we didn’t miss each other something would be wrong. And while he hasn’t said “I miss you” flat out, he has hinted at some emotion regarding my absence in his life. Recently he texted me randomly during his work day and told me he was usually okay waiting but he didn’t want to wait to see me, then added, “I want to see you now.”

Tell me about.

Today, when I looked at my planner and see presentations, screenplays, papers, cover letters, and a thesis needing to be completed, it seems like all those things are even more difficult to complete because my chest feels like it’s caving, my ribs can’t hold in the pain any longer. I’m going to implode.

I know I have to think about these things like a relay race. Every task completed is one step closer to being able to cook dinner for him or go on a date. A date! with him.

There is so obviously a whole in my chest. I can do it though. I will survive.

p.s. I hope he doesn’t read this, cause then I’ll be a pinch embarrassed. 

p.p.s. I love him–a lot.

Beware Bulldozer Ahead

In an  attempt to stay anonymous I try not to talk too much of my life outside of teaching, writing, and studenting, but I think all the outside stuff plays a role in who I am as a teacher, writer, and especially as a student. Right now the thing that affects me most is my long distance relationship. My boyfriend lives roughly one thousand miles away from where I live and we’ve been long distance for three and half years this October. We’ve been dating for four years. That’s right. When I finish my course work this semester I’ll be moving to his city.

This past year I’ve become obsessed with calendars. I have a planner, a calendar by my door, and a large desk calendar. It’s like I’m perpetually counting down the days that move me closer to living in the same zip code as my other half. While it has never been easy, I can’t say that it’s gotten easier. Part of me thinks that being apart from someone you love plays a toll on you. There are days, and I’ll venture to say that today is one of them, when knowing I’m not going to him really impacts me.

It’s a good thing I’m a busy bee because if I didn’t have a lot to do, I’d go mental thinking about it all the time. The thing is, I’ve been reading Wuthering Heights. I blame Emily Bronte. It seems crazy but I’m about half way through and there is the scene when Catherine disses Heathcliff, he leaves and Catherine goes totally bananas. Nelly, the narrator, even tells Mr. Lockwood that the doctor had her on a kind of suicide watch. Now, I think it’s important to note, I’m no Catherine Earnshaw/Linton. I’m not totally nuts, and need to be watched for fear I’m going to throw myself in any river, lake, or other major body of water, but. And it’s a big BUT! (and butt, hehehe) I totally understand why Catherine can’t seem to take it anymore.

When I’m away from my other half, especially when I leave or he leaves there is physical pain. And yes, I’m crier, but I’ve learned these past four years, that there is no reason to cry, it’s not going to prevent my having to leave, or his having to leave, but I will admit (and I doubt he’ll read this…he also doesn’t know what I’m about to say, I’ve always been a bit embarrassed to tell him) there have been times when I’ve driven away from his house after a fabulous visit (and they’ve all been great) and cried so hard that I couldn’t see the road in front of me. It’s one of those things where it over takes you. The pressure in your chest is so strong, you either cry or your heart explodes within your chest cavity.

Okay Okay, so why am I tell you all of this sentimental crap? I should have probably reserved this for my journal. I don’t know. I think I need to know someone knows how shitty it is. Mostly, I wanted to talk about Wuthering Heights. It’s my second favorite novel next to Frankenstein. While, my boyfriend is no Heathcliff and by that I don’t mean he isn’t passionate, I more mean he isn’t a vengeful evil nut case. I think too because the semester is wearing me down I’m starting to have trouble seeing the road that leads to being in the same city as him. I guess I needed to make sure that the road isn’t blocked and even if it is, get ready because I’ve got a bulldozer.

When the hell is Spring Break?

Seriously. My brain feels like it’s been a “Fry Baby.” Do they still make those things? I bet they don’t sell as much because everyone and their mother is watching their weight. Well I don’t really like my french fries baked I like them double fried. It’s bad for you which is why I don’t really subscribe to the french fry even though they are delicious and probablyly in the top 5 of my favorite foods. Wait, how did I get to talk ing about food. It truly is a major obsession of mine. Thank goodness I’m aware that when I smell food I gain weight because if I wasn’t I’d be so fat.

Okay back to when spring break is. I just hope I can enjoy it. I’m worried my goal of “getting ahead” is going to get in the way of me enjoying my time off. Although, maybe by getting ahead I will be able to enjoy the rest of my semester. Also, if I get ahead and not go to movies and dinners, my paycheck will go further. As much as I love being a student, I do miss the paycheck of being a professional. Although, aren’t I professional? I’m confused.

I think I’ve been reading too much. Is there such a thing. My brain seriously feels like when I get out of the shower and over estimate how much lotion I need on my legs and can’t get it off.  You know, you keep rubbing and rubbing then you try and put your forearm on your leg to get the lotion off.

Okay I’ve been random enough for today. Maybe I should skip to my class tonight it may help with the serotonin situation.

Skip. Skip. Skip to my lou…

As I headed out for my run it happened. I hadn’t done it in years but something compelled me to skip. Who skips anymore? I felt like a little girl with pigtails who had nowhere to be and nothing to do. I will admit it was lovely and the more I skipped it the more I wanted to, plus I think serotonin was being released into my brain.

It made wonder if there is a correlation between happiness and skipping. I remember being encouraged by my mother to skip. We’d be outdoors and she would hold my hand and my sister’s and we’d skip around the cul-du-sac. It was great, but when did my love of skipping end?

I don’t know if it was the music on my ipod that encouraged such childlike behavior but suddenly I was skipping and smiling and not caring that I might be seen. I wasn’t seen so maybe that is a bit of a relief and knowing my image obsessed self, I probably would have stopped had a car been approaching, but I guess what would it have mattered if I was spotted skipping?

I’m pretty sure skipping is not only for little girls in pigtails.

I am wondering if I should continue skipping, and I should skip everyday? Would my people think I was crazy? Am I crazy for even considering skipping?

I told my other half how I skipped today and the response was, “okay?”  Maybe he was wondering if I was some crazy chick, I just couldn’t help it. I had to tell him.

I guess, I’m wondering if I’m alone in my skipping.

If you haven’t skipped lately, whether old or young, girl or boy, I think you should do it. If you’re having a bad day look up at the sky and skip for like ten seconds, I bet you’ll feel better. Thoughts?

Cookie Time

In the past few weeks, while sitting in workshop I have learned that I cannot escape the snobbery.  I want to write more about this snobbery through both the art of poetry and of course I am looking forward to venting about it here. I don’t feel like I have time to write a well thought out blog post. I bought chocolate chip cookies and I’m glad I did because they are delicious and I only have two left which I will finish today because I feel like if I don’t they will disappear. It doesn’t make sense but it does to me. I think I’ll go get those cookies now.

I started writing a huge piece of writing and I’m excited to work on this. Cookie time.

Stream of Consciousness, Again

I have a lot going on. As much as I like being busy sometimes I think I take on too much. Right now I’m stage directing a play that has at least two weeks left to go and I am taking an extra course so I’m taking 12 credits, teaching, stage directing…oh! and the director also put me in the show. I enjoy doing everything single thing I’m doing but holy crap it’s tough to read and write while your making sure the scene changes are going well in the dark.

I think once this play is over I’ll be ready to focus on this semester but right now I have a list of props that we still need and we open in less than a week. I’m also thinking a lot about scene changes I was being yelled at all day by the director and it feels good to be back in my house where it is quiet and I can sit and just decompress.

I feel like I really need to do my writing and reading. I have to have a novel read by tomorrow evening and another 100 pages to read for Tuesday and then practice, reading writing and so it continues. I am not complaining I promise I signed up for all this but suddenly I feel like I went through a buffet and took a little bit too much of everything.

Right now I could really use a few things:

1) A hug from my other half

2) Someone to tell me I’m going to make it. (I am going to make it because failure is NOT an option)

3) A high five.

4) And a beer.

 

Well, I should go read. So much to do, so little time.

There is a song by Rilo Kiley, it’s old but it’s wonderful and one of the lines says:

“But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile”

This is exactly how I feel.

Stream of Consciousness: Edited

I will edit the following sentences so they are at least coherent but I won’t change what they say. Here is a glimpse into my brain.

I’m reading Borges, or was reading Borges today and it was the first time I’d read anything by him and I’m not quite sure how I feel. I know I don’t understand a lot of it, but that’s why I’m in school right? I wonder if anyone else who is reading what we have to read for class is struggling. Probably.  I learned as a teacher that usually when one person is confused there are actually about four or five more who are also confused.  That makes me feel better.

I stopped reading Borges because I was sick of the weird first person voice that he has and started working on a non-fiction piece. Then I was not crazy about that so I left it to marinate in my notebook. I can’t decide if I’m a hand written person or a computer typing person. Some days my best writing is written by hand, but then there are days when I can’t stand writing with a pen and want to just type it. Those are the days when I have too many ideas (well” too” many sounds negative because it feels good to have so many ideas that your hands can’t keep up). When I have days like that I should write more and read less.

I find sometimes I read so much that I can’t write. It’s like I have that author’s voice in my head and I feel tainted. I think that’s why I started writing a blog post so I could get my voice back, but if my voice is so random, like this, then maybe I should get Borges’ voice back in my head.

I ate popcorn while I read and it was delicious. Popcorn is one of my favorite snacks. I really do need to get some more peanut butter though. I have been a peanut butter kick and I’m all out.

Oh that note, I’m off the grocery store to get some Jiff (reduced fat of course).