i am a champion

i've got the eye of the tiger, the fighter
dancing through the fire 'cause i am a champion

...

and you're gonna hear me roar
...

louder, louder than a lion

'cause i am a champion

and you're gonna hear me roar

for i am Yours, and You are mine

Today.

i can't win

tell me, what did i do to make you hate me so much?
why're you angry all the time?
why do you wanna run from me?
we used to make love
when you called, i would follow
now the only thing you love is a bottle
the only thing you've got left is a shadow

don't let this shit come between us

i'm wrong, you're right

it's okay with my heart

but it's not how it's supposed to be

you always say, "i'm done, we're finished"

fuck it: i'm wrong, you're right

please, God, help us

i guess i'm gonna leave it up to you tonight

[he] ain't bluffin'
[he's] gonna do it
i think it's time for me to face to the music
i could really give a damn about my pride
but the way you're acting is stupid
you're going back and forth with the lies, never compromise
if you love me better, prove it
i can't win
i can't win for losing

it don't even matter if you scream and yell
you don't love me
you don't love yourself
but it don't matter if you're raising hell: i miss you
i wanna kiss you
i can't remember who you are
remember when your heart used to say, "love me, baby"?
love me, baby

i'm not trying to waste our love

i'm just trying to save what's left of it

one day

one day, my love

you're gonna realize that you fucked up

and when that day comes, my love

i'm gonna be the same one, still loving [you]

how're you gonna cancel me out?

for the moments i feel faint

I'm in the middle of packing right now and I stumbled across a note I wrote to myself a few months ago.  My initial instinct was just to throw it away along with all the other papers and notes and miscellaneous receipts I keep for no real reason whatsoever.  But then I stopped and read it.

And re-read it.

And damn if it didn't make me feel better.

So, for the moments I feel faint, I'll try to keep in mind everything it says.

• "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in You." - Isaiah 26:3

EVERYTHING is OKAY!

• it's just shark week
• THERE IS NO REAL DANGER!  THERE IS NO REAL THREAT!
• it's just ALL-OR-NOTHING THINKING!
• given enough time, everything works out :)
• be COMPASSIONATE
• people are going to say, do, think, and feel whatever they want -- it's NOT MY FAULT and there's NOTHING I CAN DO TO CHANGE THEM; all I can do is be the best version of myself NO MATTER WHAT!
• "Talking about our problems is our greatest addiction.  BREAK THE HABIT. Talk about your joys." - Rita Schiano
• don't overthink it - just let it go :)
• "NOTHING is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles." - Charlie Chaplin
• give myself a break; allow myself to accept and feel uncomfortable emotions and positively, healthily, maturely DEAL WITH THEM
• I don't have to always get it right, and that's okay
• "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher [and stronger] than I." - Psalm 61:2
• "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:4
• "DAUGHTER, be of good COMFORT for your faith makes you WHOLE!" - Matthew 9:22

can't stop, won't stop: april 2013

Okay, so, I haven't even put one of these together in a long time -- like, what?  2 years? -- and it's only the second day of April, but I can't stop/won't stop listening to the following jams (so, duh, I had to "share"):

Great I Am by New Life Worship
Wagon Wheel by Darius Rucker (although the renditions by both Old Crow Medicine Show and Matt Andersen are fantastic as well)
Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips
Stay by Rihanna
WOP by J. Dash (because I don't care who knows it, I want to dance like Miley)
And the majority of Ke$ha's Warrior album (no shame), but my personal favorites have got to be C'Mon and Crazy Kids.  Cannot.  Get.  Enough.

Rawr.

...

In other news, guess what's really hard?  Being an adult.  And trying to figure out where I want to live or who I should slash should not date.  Because, basically, every time I think I know my ass from a hole in the ground, I realize that I most certainly do not.

And it's normal to be discouraged slash frustrated slash overwhelmed by that.

Right?

the break up

Okay.

I admit it.

I am nothing if not predictable.

Sure, I may seem out of control – crazy, even (but, omg, don't even get me STARTED).  And sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what to expect from myself, but the reality is I’m just a creature of habits, good and bad.

It’s been a long time – four years, actually – since I’ve found myself here in The Break Up.  I was naïve enough the first time around to think I’d never be here again but, like clockwork, all my old ways and wanderings have returned like no time has passed whatsoever.

And I can’t decide if that’s depressing or amusing.



The Break Up: Health

Adopt a strict diet of Spaghettios, fudge brownies from the neighborhood 7-Eleven, and medium cheese pizzas ordered from the Domino’s located so close to your house that it might actually take less time to walk there as opposed to waiting for delivery, but walking anywhere would require that you get dressed and that’s just something you cannot be bothered with (see more under The Break Up: Fashion).  Keep a full bottle of Advil PM by your bed so, you know, should you get tired of being awake and wallowing, you can dream-wallow instead.  Weeeee!

The Break Up: Beauty

Stop showering (let’s be honest – how often did you really shower before?) and stop tweezing your eyebrows.  Don’t even bother pretending you have the energy to go out and get them waxed (again, this would require putting on real clothes, which is stupid).  Occasionally wash your face.  Occasionally brush your teeth.  Occasionally apply mascara in the dark before running down to check the mail.  Wear your hair in a ratty bun for seven days straight – briefly consider adding a headband, but then don’t.  Obviously.

The Break Up: Fashion

You’re clearly not working on your Post-Break Up Bod yet, so who gives a shit?  If you absolutely must get dressed, pull on fat jeans, a long-sleeved Nike dry-fit, plus those old, worn out Sperry’s that usually sit in the back of your closet.  If it’s cold, throw on that camo Columbia fleece you bought on sale at Academy in the little boys' section last Christmas – don’t obsess over the fact that you bought it in preparation for a trip to your ex’s friend’s ranch because you wanted to look like you in any way whatsoever belonged on a ranch around dirt and guns and nature (when you, in fact, don’t).  If it’s hot, trade the dry-fit and fleece for the gray and white striped Target v-neck.   You only wear it when you’re depressed, anyway.  Don’t bother with a real bra – rock the bright green racer-back because it’s more comfortable and no one’s looking at your boobs anyway.

Above all, avoid changing out of the oversized Mayde Creek Cross Country 2004 t-shirt.  Avoid putting on pants as well.

The Break Up: Lifestyle

Sleep late.  Sleep all day, if possible.  Think very seriously about exercising, but then don’t.  Finally feel guilty and fat enough to do some squats.  Alternate between napping on the couch and in your bed.  Contemplate hiring a maid so someone will wash your sheets and rinse out all those bowls of dried soup – they’re really starting to clutter up your kitchen counter.  Start making to-do lists.  Throw them away as opposed to actually completing them.  Google "cheap local therapists."  Wade through the disappointing results and accidentally end up with the most expensive option, then find a way to deal with it because she's awesome.

The Break Up: Entertainment

I know you’re not into How I Met Your Mother, but since you (for some ungodly reason) own seasons 1-4 on DVD, watch them.  DVR old episodes of Entourage.  Attempt to watch Khloé & Lamar, but turn it off if (okay, when) you find yourself crying during the opening credits because you’re too jealous of their love (wtf).  Clueless and Mean Girls are fail-safes.  No matter how much you want to, never watch The Last Kiss – it’ll make you cry even more than Khloé & Lamar.  Re-read teen novels you loved in high school.  Re-read The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series (yes, all four of them).  Skip over all the parts with Bridget and Eric and Lena and Kostos.  Listen to any and every song by M.I.A. and dream about one day making an I’m Back, Baby playlist to celebrate your emersion from The Break Up.

In the meantime, give in and listen to Imogen Heap on repeat.

Okay, so maybe it’s slightly more amusing than depressing.

Here’s to hoping I make it through The Break Up this time around (no promises, though).

to be or not to be: censored?

Well, hello!

Haven’t see y’all around these parts in quite awhile!

Or is it me who’s been MIA?

Oh. That’s right. Well, hello nonetheless! I realize I went missing on a pretty grim note (can you blame me?), but I’ve had some time to think, some time to process, and obviously some time to cry while sorting everything out. I wish that meant that I now have answers, but it doesn’t. It simply means I’m learning daily to accept my life for what it is (something I’ve been learning daily to do for nineteen months but, hey, who’s counting?).

After the whole reference-debacle (update: there’s nothing I can do about it because of some kind of a federal law where all my dirty laundry, once aired, must remain posted for a full two years…WOMP), I hit a bit of a low point. Just a teeny tiny low point. Low enough for me to mope around and say things like WHAT’S GOING TO BECOME OF ME?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1?!!!!11111 while hoping for an actual answer to an overly-dramatic question. This is the part where I normally turn to my parents (read: mother) for some direction, something I’m not always (read: usually) terribly fond of doing. And while I’m not saying everything she brought to my attention this time around wasn’t true or important, I didn’t like any of it.

I especially didn’t like hearing about how parts of my life are a disappointment.

Parts of my life like…this blog?

And by disappointment I also meant embarrassing.

Ouch.

I come from a Christian, conservative family. And I would consider myself Christian & moderately conservative, but I suppose I do write like I’m…common street trash? Okay, a bit extreme, but perhaps I am a little juvenile. Perhaps my stories are immature and, wow, maybe this blog IS standing in the way of me being hired by a district (to hear my mother tell it, she wouldn’t trust me with influencing America’s youth based on my written words…double ouch).

I get that we’re in an age of Extreme Technology, an age where everything I say or do can be blasted out onto the internets and ruin my life, should I make a wrong move. That’s daunting. And maybe I should have been a little more careful.

Maybe I should have censored myself more.

Maybe I should henceforth censor myself more.

That’s a shock to my system. I see the value in protecting my online persona – people who don’t know me from Adam could read my blog and have a totally wrong impression of me because while, sure, I'm 24 and like to do all the things that 24-year olds like to do, I’m also responsible. I don’t spend every waking hour wasted or finding a way to get wasted. My number one priority isn’t partying or sleeping until noon or finding new, creative ways to use expletives (I wish). And I admire writers/bloggers like Heather Armstrong and The Bloggess and The Frenemy. I admire that the have the balls and fuck-all to say what they want to say, how they want to say it, when they want to say it.

But maybe that’s just one of many luxuries I can’t afford right now.

I just don’t know.

And while I continue to mull that over, you’ll notice I have a new blog address so as to not make it quite as easy to simply Google my name and be directed to this slophole.

Oh, and because it’s been way too dreary around here as of late, please enjoy some fun recent pictures that I’m posting for zero real reason at all:


My best friends and I ready to embark on a party barge for the day (Lake Travis, Austin). EXCELLENT.

Romance.

Some of my wonderful friends. :)

Barged.

Mitch & I out on 6th Street, our last night in Austin.




PS: Seriously, though, if anyone hears about any teaching openings for 4-6th generalists or 4-8th English language arts/reading let me know! I’m expanding where I’m applying (I’m looking at you, Houston…sigh…).

PPS: Y’all are the greatest. I just can’t quit you, friends. :)

between the mean reds & the blues

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds. You mean like the blues?

Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat, and maybe it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid, and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?

Welp. I may or may not have officially given up hope, y’all.

Specifically on education, I mean, but also on a lot of other things.

I found out today that one of my references has been giving me a bad report. For the last two years. Two. Years. So, on the plus side, me feeling like I’d been black-balled or like there was a kind of dark cloud hanging over me all this time? Turns out it’s true and I’m not just crazy.

I tried to delete the reference from all my applications, but it won't let me. So I tried to delete all my district applications and just start over, and I can’t. Some stupid message just keeps popping up saying I’m already in their system whenever I try to create a new account. Perfect.

I never really wanted to be a teacher anyway.

Right?

How long will I have to keep telling myself that until I feel like it’s true?

I know a bad reference doesn’t sound like the end of the world. Perhaps it sounds like I’m being overly dramatic, making a mountain out of a molehill and all that nonsense. But you don’t understand – when over four hundred people apply for one position in a matter of hours, that bad reference makes all the difference in the world. It’s all it takes to knock me completely out of the running.

It’s no wonder I’ve never even had a call, let alone an interview.




I’m not qualified for anything else. I don’t have any skills, any special talents. All I have is a bad reference and absolutely zero willpower to pull myself out of the all-consuming depression that’s already washing over me.

Cute, right?

romping

So.

As it turns out, working two jobs is just as time-consuming (not to mention exhausting) as I thought it would be, meaning that Summer 2011 is officially The Summer of Working All The Fucking Time And Therefore Never Ever Having Any Fun Ever Under Any Circumstances Ever. Most of the time I’m too tired to even blog. WHEN DID I BECOME SUCH A FUDDY DUDDY?

I do not like this.

Anyway.

A couple weeks ago I actually had a day off (A DAY OFF! WHAT!) and spent the morning shopping with Mitch. He needed khakis that were actually khakis as opposed to cargo pants and not covered in mustard stains. Look at him! Growing up! And while at the mall, I made the mistake of venturing into Urban Outfitters where I not only spent seven dollars on novelty band-aids, but also…

Also?

I bought a romper.

I KNOW.

NBD.

In my defense, I initially grabbed a few to try on as a joke slash to remind Mitch how irresistibly sexy I look in ill-fitting onesies that show too much cellulite. But then, um, one wasn’t so bad? In fact it was kind of adorable. And, okay, fine, I bought it and I’ve worn it twice and I love it. Is that so wrong?!

Ahhhhhh I love the back! And please excuse my out-of-control lion's mane.

I immediately texted my friend Alex so she could begin judging me all the way from Houston. She has a special kind of hatred for clothing that makes adult women look like babies, a special kind of hatred I used to join her in until I became a heretic.

A heretic?

I’m operating on very little sleep these days and, as a result, not on top of my game. But whatever, y’all, I like to romp and I’m only 40% embarrassed to admit that. It’s so cute! I can belt it! Or I can NOT belt it! And I can wear necklaces with it! And SHOES! CUTE ONES! CUTE! Seriously, this is as exciting as my life gets since, besides wearing the romper on Friday for a family reunion, I can’t remember the last time I wore clothing other than Nike shorts, my camp counselor t-shirt, disgustingly loose black Bermuda work shorts, my Sonic shirt, and tennis shoes. Meaning: the romper is a big deal.

It’s cool if you all want to stop following my blog now.

In somewhat related news, here’s a quick rundown on what I’ve been up to lately if anyone even remotely cares and/or has missed me:

• Working two jobs sucks, I’m tired all the time and my feet never stop hurting
• Not having weekends off is probably one of my least favorite things ever, but that’s okay because I’ve been taking full advantage of my Tuesday nights off for kickball, ie. I threw up in a trashcan like a college girl a couple weeks ago
• Pete tore into the garbage, then ate an entire loaf of bread and a bag of cat food before exploding diarrhea all over the dining room carpet while I was at work – you can imagine the pleasant sight and smell upon my arrival
• At least I’m sort of a rockstar at (both?) my job(s?). End bragfest 2k11.
• I miss blogging. And reading y’all’s blogs. And I feel totally disconnected from, um, everyone. Not cool.
• I wear rompers now.
• I ate some vegetables last week.
• A lot has changed, but only in very boring ways.

To those of you still sticking around despite the dearth in posting, thanks. :) And on that note, I’m off to finish typing up lesson plans for camp this week because, hey, it’s 10:50 on a Sunday night and, no thanks, I don’t feel like resting.

It ain’t easy being a boss.

Or romping.


PS: Worst thing about rompers? I know everyone’s said it, but seriously, having to get completely undressed to pee. Pretty much one of the most awkward feelings ever, especially at work. Or basically anywhere.

all-talk

It's finally here, y'all.

MY DAY OFF.

And oh goodness, I had such plans in my mind for this day. I was all, First I'll sleep in past 6 and then go for a run, and then I'll shower and go to the Flag Day celebration on Main Street (cute, right?!) and then maybe I'll go swimming and clean my room AND vacuum!

Puh-lease.

I know it's only 10am, but so far all I've done is put on my swimsuit, eat mini Reese's peanut butter cups, sit on my couch and cry while looking at wedding pictures on Facebook.


Productivity.

Uh-oh, does that mean I have wedding fever again?

My bad.

And now I feel so lazy that I'm going to drag myself off this couch, consider showering but then decide to skip it, and go to this adorable little Flag Day thing. By myself, but whatever. Why not, right?

Happy Tuesday, dudes!


PS: In related I'm-all-talk news, I'm a pussy and had all of ONE beer this weekend. Wtf? WHO AM I?

a collection of facts & feelings: june

Today I’m linking up with my sweet and wonderful friend Joelle over at Where We Love is Home for Happy Hour (because it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, thank God). And all I’m going to say on that note is:

a. you should really take a gander at her blog because it’s adorable, and so is Joelle
b. this weekend (when not working) I feel like I’ll be drinking one thousand cocktails and beers and bottles of wine – whatever, just bring on the booze; it’s been a hell of a week





Anyway.

Moving on.

It’s been an interesting week, my first as a summer camp counselor at the Grapevine Rec and so far I’d say the best (read: most awkward) part is working with a guy I graduated high school with because neither of us have acknowledged it. Neat-o!

I’ve been invited to zero weddings this summer. Am I really that unpopular? Well, all right.

A couple weeks ago Mitch’s mom threw him a grad party which basically meant that I ignored most people and played Presidents & Assholes on the couch the entire time (but not alone, it’s fine) while drinking twelve-ish beers. That’s a good way to feel bloated for two days, in case y’all were wondering.

Mitch's stupid eyes ruin everything.

And on that note, I know I said Apples to Apples is the greatest game of all time (and it is), but it should also be said that Presidents & Assholes is the greatest DRINKING game of all time (and it is). Seriously, have you ever played? Do it. It reminds me of summertime, which is wonderful, but it specifically reminds me of last summer, ie. The Summer We Played Presidents & Assholes Absolutely Everywhere To The Point That We Started Carrying Decks of Cards on Us at All Times I’m Not Kidding. We played with friends. We played at family gatherings. We played at The Chicken. We played at weddings. I can only hope that Summer 2011 is as President-y & Asshole-y.

In a nutshell.

Once again, moving on.

Midnight is Paris (starring Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, and a shit-ton of other people) is fantastic and totally worth seeing in theaters. I highly recommend it.

I’ve been seeing this app for awhile and, y’all, I think it’s getting pretty serious. I’d like to take this moment to profess publically: I love you, Instagram. Will you marry me and be my favorite app forever? (update: it said yes!)

Pete has gone an entire month without eating my clothes (knock on wood). I feel like this would be cause for celebration, except he’s actually just moved on to things like stairs and electrical wires.

Sidenote: besides chewing shit up, his new favorite hobby is chasing butterflies. CHASING BUTTERFLIES. I’ll try to take a video.

Not liking iced tea makes me feel absolutely positively un-southern, not to mention un-Texan. This is only amplified in the summer months. Ugh. What is wrong with me?

Not recommended: bursting into tears when your dental hygienist innocently & cheerfully asks how you're doing. She'll get really uncomfortable. And so will you. (update: seriously, I'm fine, it was just a bad day and, surprise!, I'm not great at controlling my emotions)

Also not recommended: eating two-day old chocolate chip cookies found on the bathroom counter when you wake up at 1am and can't go back to sleep. It won't cure your insomnia, but it will make you feel like a fatass.

And I just noticed how many browser tabs I have open right now. It drives Mitch crazy when I have up more than four (why? I don't know), but whatever because I'm sitting at thirteen right now.

YOU'RE MIND JUST GOT BLOWN, MITCH BAKER.


Happy freakin' weekend, y'all! I hope everyone has some really exciting plans to blow off steam from the week. Me? I'll be working, but that doesn't mean I won't have a little time off to go see a band play in Dallas on Saturday night with my main squeeze. Other than that, it's back to the grind until Tuesday (my first day off in eleven days! whoooooop!).

chasing pavements

About a week ago, I got a second job.

It’s the thing I’ve been avoiding ever since I moved back home nineteen months ago (oh god, NINETEEN MONTHS AGO I MOVED BACK HOME someone please kill me slash sorry, Mom and Dad). I’ve tried to make it photographing and subbing but since both of those are seasonal, I knew that when summer hit things were going to be a bit, ahem, tight. After my Thursday morning orientation as a summer counselor, I realized that only working camp wasn’t going to be enough.

So I tucked my tail between my legs.

And drove to Sonic.

And asked for my old job back.

I tried to promise myself when I graduated that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t go back. It’s not that it’s a bad job – it’s just, it’s the job I had in high school. I’m supposed to be better than that now, right? I have a degree from an incredible university. Shouldn’t that be enough to keep me out of fast-food?

Turns out it’s not.

And I’m trying to be okay with that.

I woke up Friday morning with Adele’s Chasing Pavements randomly playing over and over and over in my head. The lyrics made (and still make) me wonder, should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if leads nowhere? Trying to be a teacher for almost two years now, trying to just get by in the meantime by subbing and working summer jobs, trying to wait it out so I don’t have to give up on my dream…is it stupid? Am I being stupid?


via

Some days (okay, most days) I feel the pressure to “grow up” and get a “proper” job. I feel like a bum, a loser substitute who’s just not good enough to be a “real” teacher. I feel like I should take a job with a salary, with benefits, with 9 to 5 hours so I can be like my friends, so I can get my own place, so I can be, well, “normal.”

But I’m just not a desk job kind of girl.

The thought of working in an office makes me (metaphorically) break out into hives. And okay, sure, maybe I’m a little gun-shy about offices and cubicles and fluorescent lighting because my first “grown up job” was such a fucking nightmare, but I don’t think that’s just it. I think that in general, it’s just not for me. I need to be mentally engaged, physically active, up & walking around, talking to people, doing something new every day.

Does that make me flighty?

Or free-spirited?

Lazy? Or dynamic?

All I know is I can’t lead a life crunching numbers or filing faxes or taking memos. And I’d rather be somewhat unhappy with where I live and happy with my work than happy with where I live and miserable forty hours a week.

So because I gave up an interview for a “proper" job and instead found myself face-to-face with a summer position that’s turned out to be part-time, I had to swallow my pride and go back to the basics. My roots, you might say. And you know what? It’s not so bad. I felt weird walking back into the store after a five year hiatus and it’s sort of strange not knowing most of the girls who work there now, but it also kind of feels like home. It feels like a job I can do (and do well) because it is. Yea, that’s right: I kind of kick ass at Sonic-ing.

JUST LOOK AT HOME CUTE I AM IN MY POLO.


See? I’m trying to focus on the whole gotta-make-that-dolla aspect of the situation as opposed to obsessing over the fact that I’m 24 and working at the same job I did at 16. Yikes.

And while I’ve mentioned before how much I sucked (read: was ugly and judgmental) in those days, I do feel a little like sixteen-year-old me again, meaning I should probably call up my high school boyfriend so we can awkwardly make out in his bunk bed or the back of his ’98 Ford Explorer. I’m sure his wife won’t mind.

Good times.

But back to my original question: am I kidding myself with pursuing a career in education? To be honest, my gut tells me I probably am. My gut tells me it’s going to be years before education is back to a place where alternatively certified teachers (like me) have a better shot at being hired. But (and get ready for some grade A cheese, y’all) my heart just won’t let me let go. I feel like a teacher even though I’m not employed as one, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have something of value to bring to kids.

So.

Do I struggle in the meantime, sacrifice my wants, and ultimately continue to put my life on hold, waiting for the right school, the right principal, the right students to take a chance on me, whenever that may be?

Or am I just chasing pavements?

can't stop, won't stop: june (featuring the music of summer 2009)

In honor of summer (SUMMER!!), I decided to break from my normal format and instead do a flashback can’t stop/won’t stop featuring my favorite playlists of summers past. I’m also just feeling nostalgic (summer always has that affect on me) and wanted to indulge myself in a walk down memory lane.


First up, I present to you my Summer of 2009 Playlist:

• Love Game by Lady Gaga
• 3OH!3’s entire album, Want (but specifically Don’t Trust Me, I’m Not Your Boyfriend, Baby, and Richman*)
• Fireflies by Owl City (and, in fact, all of Owl City's Ocean Eyes album...IT'S FINE)
• Digital by T-Pain (“I don’t even care that he lives in a voicebox!”- Mitch Baker)
• Waking Up in Vegas by Katy Perry
• Hotel Room Service by Pitbull
• Birthday Sex by Jeremih (in honor of Mitch’s 21st, ie. a mostly-hilarious night for everyone involved, but less so for me as I was busy cleaning up vomit and assuring Mitch that he “didn’t do a bad job on his birthday” while he kept screaming, WHO DID THIS TO ME?!) (and later, very sadly, “…I did this to me…”)
• Sweet Pea by Amos Lee
• I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas (ughhhh I HATE this song now)
• Fire Burning by Sean Kingston (this is shameful, but true)
• Punk Goes Pop volume 2 (specifically Breathe Carolina’s cover of See You Again and The Cab’s cover of Disturbia)
  

Post-one million shots, pre-vomit.

Summer 2009 was a big one for me. It was my last summer as a college student, the summer I got Clark Kent, the summer I ran and didn’t hate it, the summer I drove down to Nacogdoches every other weekend, the summer I drove all the way to Arkansas just to see finally Relient K live, the summer of Daisy Dukes and dollar drinks and drunk make outs BECAUSE it was my last summer as a college student. It was the first summer Mitch and I spent together, the first time we drove to Houston for Free Press Summer Fest, the first time I really like-liked someone after thinking I’d never like-like anyone ever again.

PUPPY! :)

It’s the summer I came back to life.

I’ve mentioned before that I had a particularly difficult time after a break up, way back in the spring of 2009. Truth be told, it’s probably the lowest I’ve ever been in my entire life, and God, I hope the lowest I’ll ever feel. I definitely don’t want to go back to that place. Anyone who suffers from depression can attest to how hopeless you feel, like you will literally never be able to crawl out of bed, like you’ll never be happy again. I had stopped going to work. I dropped two classes and failed one. I no longer answered my phone. I regularly slept fifteen hours at a time. I spent every second possible in the solace of my room, feeling lost and inconsolable.

When I did go out, I tried to prove to myself and everyone else that I was fine by laughing too loud, drinking too much and generally pretending I didn’t give a shit about anything, least of all my broken heart.

I was, in a word, a mess.

But with summer came sunshine and a new beginning.

July 4th, 2009. Go Rangers!

It brought my friend Mitch who emailed me daily with work-out regimes and words of encouragement. It brought Clark, the world’s sweetest puppy, who gave me something to look after and someone to come home to. Summer brought a new will to live and the realization that this sorrow wouldn’t be forever. Summer brought a time of tentative happiness as I slowly but surely crawled out of my cave and faced the real world again, this time stronger and more self-assured than before. It wasn’t instant, but it was lasting.

I was back, baby.

Thank you, summer 2009. Thank you to the friends and wonderful times that made it what it was. It’s a time I always treasure, and I’m so grateful I lived to see that.

Impromptu library workers party. We like books!

Join me next month for can’t stop, won’t stop: july where I’ll feature my summer 2010 playlist. Whoop! :)



*Richman is one of my favorite songs of all time. IT GOES SO HARD. Listen to it now, please & thanks.

nothing says "celebration" like throwin' bows

It’s graduation season, y’all, which means I can’t seem to stop sitting in arenas and special events centers for hours at a time. And last night I found myself once again surrounded by hundreds of people and mortar boards out the yin-yang as Mitch’s little sister, Morgan, graduated from high school.

Yay.

No, seriously, it’s awesome and congratulations and all that crap. Too bad the only thing anyone will ever remember about the ceremony is the highly-inappropriate fist-fight that broke out (a mere three rows behind me).

Say whaaaat?

Yes, a real fist-fight. Between two DADS.

pictured: a pretty accurate portrayl

Classy, right? One minute we’re all sitting quietly, wishing the seniors would hurry the hell up already so we can get out of here before 11, and the next everyone’s turned around, open-mouthed and staring as two families, one black and one white, struggle to keep their dads from engaging in an embarrassing situation. They were, sadly, too late. EVERYONE was looking. People were still receiving their diplomas and all the while, you’ve got two men in the stands, screaming at each other and throwing punches. The graduates on the floor STOOD UP AND CHEERED (wow). Finally security was called and both men were hauled the fuck out. How’s that for adorable? Sorry for missing your graduation, Cindy. I was, uh, busy…

A million bucks says it started with a racist comment (I would literally bet my life on it) because, c’mon, this was a Forney event and Forney has its fair share of rednecks. My only regret is that I was so fascinated by the scene that I didn’t even think to take a picture. DAMNIT.

Moral of the story: if you attend a graduation ceremony for a Small-ish Town, USA high school, you just might witness an interracial altercation. Boom.

Oh, and because the whole thing was supposed to be about Morgan, here are a couple pictures that actually have to do with graduation:


Morgan's somewhere on the front row, near the middle. Promise.

Morgan (on the left) and some friend of hers, right before walking across the stage.

Happy graduation, Morgan!

It was, um, eventful.

for kelley

A week-ish ago, one of my very best friends, Kelley, turned 24.

DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE

I'm awful because I didn't make time (here) to recognize it, but I'm making up for it now even though I'm 99% certain she doesn't even read this blog. It's okay. It's the thought that counts.

Dancing (like sluts) to "Pour Some Sugar On Me" (obvi) at MSC Hospitality's semi-formal, 2008.

Kelley and I became friends way back during the summer after my freshman year of college. I was in the middle of transferring to Texas A&M and busy buddy-ing up to my new BFF Kristin when I met this gem of a lady. They were counselors in Fish Camp together (and so cool I could barely stand it) and, oh my, I was so intimidated. Just look at her! She's so cute! And funny (although I guess it might be hard to tell THAT from just a picture)! And she dances like a black girl!

Am I allowed to say things like that?

Y'all know what I mean.

BTHO t.u., 2009.

It actually look us a little time to become close, probably because we were both friends with Kristin and there's always going to be some rivalry in that situation. I'm so happy it didn't last long, though, because by our sophomore year I really considered her one of my best friends and have ever since. Kelley's one of the sweetest, most precious people you'll ever meet. She's a wiz in the kitchen, craftsy & handy with just about anything from making pillowcases out of cloth napkins to scrapbooking, and really just a genuinely kind person. I love her more than I can ever truly express.

In College Station for May graduations, 2010.

So today (and this post!) is for you, Kelley. I miss you, but I'm proud of you for working so hard in Austin. Your never-ending optimism (even when you're sad!) inspires me. I'm sorry this isn't appearing your birthday as it should have, but all the same, I love you and I hope today is better than the 18th, meaning I hope some kid doesn't poop his pants again. That sucked.


PS: I really wanted to embarrass you but then realized I don't, in fact, have a copy of that picture of you drunk crawling on your hands & knees through the streets of Italy. You know, the one where you can see totally down your dress? Man. That would have been neat..

land of the free because of the brave

Nothing says America like the Constitution, Ol' Glory, bald eagles and Clark Kent.


I just wanted to stop and wish everyone a happy Memorial Day. Three day weekends and BBQs aside, I hope we all take a second today to remember those brave men & women who have selflessly given their lives for our own. Thank you. :)

stop it, you're making me blush

The absolutely precious Amanda over at The Beginning of Everything awarded me this stylish blogger award because she's either never read this blog or she's just too sweet for her own good. Either way, thanks, lady!



Apparently I'm supposed to list seven facts about myself and, even though I feel like I've done this before (?), here ya go:


1. I'm 24 and I'm trying really hard to enjoy every second of my "youth."
2. My eyes are HAZEL, thank you. Not brown. I could tell you thought otherwise.
3. If I could change one thing about myself, it would be to make myself a more active, athletic person. I wish I loved running. Instead I love pizzas.
4. I'm a gypsy vagabond substitute teacher which sometimes I love and sometimes makes me feel like a loser.
5. Mitch and I torture ourselves by drooling over houses in Uptown we know we can't have. Damn you, Google.
6. I play kickball (badly) and, yes, I think that's very cool. My team is a blast. :) Go Bad Decision Bears!
7. I'm blessed beyond measure, something I don't recognize near enough. All the same, it's true. I'm a lucky girl.


Now, blink back those tears I know I've moved you to and check out the following ladies' blogs that I would like to pass this award onto:

Carrie Jo at Life of the Liles (because she's precious)
Julie at Tri-ing to be Athletic (because she's an inspiration)
Heather at Blonde...Undercover Blonde (because she's the best tweeter I know)
Vanessa at {the best is yet to be} (because she's beautifully honest)
Alex at Mutual Weirdness (because she's my pal, plain & simple)

Thanks again, Amanda! What a cute way to start my Friday. And seriously, check out the above blogs! They're all written by pretty wonderful women I feel privileged to call friends (even if it it's only through the blogosphere). :)

Happy Friday and HAPPY WEEKEND, y'all!

so you need to wait out a tornado warning...

Hello, friends! If you:

• have stupidly gone out to a bar on Tuesday night even though your kickball game is canceled and there's the threat of bad weather
• find yourself not only twenty miles from home, but also in the heart of a major city that's in the middle of a storm path

Or if you just like to laugh in the face of danger, ignore sirens and be an idiot, here are some things you need in order to expertly brave your way through a tornado warning.*

1. a 5th floor apartment with a sliding glass door and lots of windows
...because it's perfect for making you feel as unsafe as possible. Bonus: when it thunders, the doors and windows shake! Awesome!

It's just like a bomb shelter, only safer.

2. no TV or internet
...because when weathering a terrifying storm, it's ideal not to have access to any kind of news source. Bonus: if you try to listen to the radio via your iPhone or Android, you'll probably have to sit through six minutes of commercials before it'll tell you that a tornado's heading straight for your part of town. Goody!

Fuck it. We don't need this shit.

3. jugs of sangria
...because you're bored and there's nothing fancier than drinking booze you've found stored in someone's bathroom. Tip: best when consumed from the actual jug (there's no need to class it up).

Relax. It's just a tornado.

4. Apples to Apples
...because it's the greatest game ever invented. Seriously. That's not an exaggeration, and to all the people out there who think it's stupid, YOU'RE STUPID. And wrong. Tip: winning cards include Helen Keller, Anne Frank, Brad Suggs and, you would think, the JFK assassination. Warning: There are some people who think that running a goddamned marathon is more horrifying than the JFK assassination. These people are terrorists.



5. Homies
...because no one likes to brave this shit alone. Warning: some homies may not be able to handle the dramatic combination of severe weather, sangria & card games and may become belligerent, arguing that Jack the Ripper is more graceful than (my well-played choice of) Eleanor Roosevelt because he "had to be limber to murder all those people," all while sloshing fruity wine on you.

pictured: people with a plan but who will still forget their keys & cell phones in a crisis; not pictured: Mitchell and the beer he carried everywhere he went


There you have it, y'all. If nothing else, this'll entertain you for the several hours you're trapped away from your homes and give you a few stories to tell later as your friends sober up and can't remember all the Eleanor Roosevelt/lesbian comments they made.

PS: Seriously, though, everything's fine here. All have been accounted for and no serious damage was suffered. Thanks for the tweets and prayers. :)



*You should NOT do these things if you sense any extreme danger in your future. Just go sit in a stairwell or something.

can't stop, won't stop: may

Same ol', same ol', y'all. A little preview at some of the songs I can't and won't stop playing on repeat until Mitch hates them & threatens to leave me if I don't please for the love of God play something else:

• Rhythm of Love by Plain White T's
• Honey, Let Me Sing You a Song by Matt Hires
• Boomerang by Mae
• Last Friday Night by Katy Perry (oh hell yes)
• And I'm really loving the soundtrack from The Switch (starring Jason Batemen and Jennifer Aniston). I recently Netflix-ed it, and please just stop what you're doing right now and rent it. Netflix it. Buy it. Whatever. It was so unexpectedly wonderful. I can't wait to buy it. But anyway, the soundtrack is also unexpectedly wonderful (especially songs like All the Beautiful Things by Eels and Lovers' Carvings by Bibio). Check it out.

middle schoolers: they'll straight up hit on you

Today I hung out here:

pictured: your typical social studies classroom

It goes without saying that 8th graders are a handful. I've subbed for this age plenty of times (reluctantly, I admit) and they always offer such unique challenges, ie. if I turn around for even a minute, lo and behold I'll turn back around to find some class clown standing in the corner, taking his shirt off. Whaaat?

Uhhhhh...it was an accident. You're not going to tell my teacher, are you?

What do YOU think, big shot?

Ugh. Kids.

So it's safe to say I understand that kids this age are a bit crazy, always pushing the boundaries to see how much they can get away with or what it will take to shock me. And, all right, occasionally I've encountered a strange comment, but man oh man, nothing like 6th period today.

Sixth period came in loud, and I mean LOUD. I've raised my voice to classes before, busting out the stern, disappointed teacher voice nearly daily in order to regain control, but today I had to yell. Literally. SIT. DOWN. CLOSE YOUR MOUTHS. My words was ringing in my own ears from the volume, but it worked. They sat. They closed their mouths. And for the ten minutes that lapsed as I took roll and rattled off some basic annoucements, they were quiet, but as soon as I turned to walk from the podium, it began.

The roar.

The clamor.

Thirty middle schoolers talking talking talking all at once. It was enough to drive me out of my mind, but that wasn't my problem with today. My problem was the boys. For whatever reason, I have become attractive to tween boys? Cue confusion and vomiting. For forty-five minutes, it was a string of silly lines that went from funny to downright creepy after a kid asked me, Hey, Miss Townsend, you ever tried a fourteen year old before?

...

I was litearlly stunned. Usually when kids says silly, flirty things to me, I laugh them off and remind that I'm not only too old for them, but way out of their league. This was different. After that moment, I was just... Uncomfortable. I found myself in a moment where I felt lost, unsure of what to do next, something that has rarely happened to me in the classroom, thank God.

In order to play it off and not give him the reaction that he wanted (ie. any), I ignored the comment and went about my business. It's funny how such a small moment can change your whole mood. I felt on edge, and for the rest of the period, I didn't feel like myself. I felt like I should have done something more: had him sit out in the hall, written him up, sent him down to the principal's office. Something. But I didn't know what, so I let it go.

As class was wrapping up, another student, a sweet boy about thirteen, came up to me and asked, Miss Townsend, do you know karate? 'Cause your body is KICKIN'! I laughed becasue it was funny. It just was. And it reminded me that these are just kids. They have absolutely no idea what they're saying. Even though a small line was crossed today, I know there will be other moments like this in the future as students and I map out our boundaries. As a sub, I don't have the time to establish myself as anything more than a temporary figurehead, and while most of the time that's enough, I realize now that there will be days I'm tested, days kids will come at me from out of nowhere and I'll have to handle it, have to think on my feet and figure out the best course of action.

But that's kind of the great thing about substitue teaching: I'm never really sure what will happen next. Every day is a brand new adventure and while sometimes it's hard, it's always worthwhile. I've learned so much in the past four months, so much more than I ever though I could. And I'm grateful for that.

I'd still like a Big Girl Teaching job, though.

Anyone handing those out?

I'll be glad to tell you your body is kickin' in exchange.