Feeling restless

I am having a rough night. It is after midnight and I just can't sleep. I am missing my friend Karen terribly, I am feeling so worried and scared for another friend because her father is sick, and I am missing my students at my last job.

Do you ever have one of these nights? Where, for no reason whatsoever at all, it all hits you at once? Everthing that has happened over the past few months comes tumbling down upon you? Well that is the kind of night I am having. I couldn't seem to shake it so I figured I might as well embrace it. And even though it's been an eternity, why not post about it?

There is a play going on this weekend at my previous job and although a big part of me wants to go and see it, I am having a difficult time making a decision. Who will I see? What will they say? What will I say? Probably something along the lines of: "Oh, things are going well. I am figuring out what schools I want to apply for and really enjoying my time off." Translation? I have no clue what I am going to do with my life, I am lonely, and miss all of you desperately. I will probably go anyway. Maybe the play will be good, even though the review was awful, and plus it will be nice to see my students.

Well, I am beat so I am heading off to bed. Maybe I will start posting again.

Scattered Thoughts

I am sitting in my office, scattered with pictures and show posters, cards from my students; looking around and feeling a bit pensive. The school year is finally over. It was a stressful year, and an even tougher semester, for me. I prayed many a day and counted the classes until it would come to an end. Well it's over now and the things that were bringing me down and stressing me out have finally faded away. All that remains is a feeling of relief, mixed with sadness, add a touch of confusion and uncertainty, a dab of worry and a splash of fear.

I have given up the teaching life. Well, as a career anyway. I know things are never certain, but at this point in my life I just don't see any opportunities to make a career of it without moving half way across the country. So, it looks like I will be going back to school to get a degree in computer graphic design. Why? It pays well, there's a market for it, and there is a much greater chance I will find a job close to home. That is my priority right now in my life. Being close to my family. And to think, just a few weeks ago I was in the throws of sending out application after application. Yep, things have shifted for me considerably and it's confusing and scary.

As I have mentioned in a post quite awhile back, I feel like I live my life in a constant state of transition. When will it end?

All I have ever wanted in my life is to be a mother and a wife. I fear, every day, that these are things I will never have. Is it wrong to want that over teaching? Why, in this day and age, do we pressure our kids to establish themselves in their careers? To really make a name for themselves? I long to establish myself, I do, but I want to establish myself as a happy mother and wife.

Speaking of mothers. Yesterday was Mother's Day and I didn't give my mother a card. I had been camping so I didn't get the opportunity to pick up a card for her. I was just telling myself I would pick one up today but I can't stop thinking, what would I write in it? I just recently told her about my change of heart regarding my career. I fear I have let her down terribly and even though I know she would never let me know that, it kills me to think that I have. All I can think of putting in the card is "Thank you for loving me even though I have let you down." Seems silly, I know, but it is how I feel. My mother loves me no matter what, I know that. But you still can't help the way you feel.

I feel afraid that I will never find what I really want and then I will have to deal with whether or not it was all worth it; letting go of teaching and putting my focus on settling down and starting a family.

I had my first class today for Summer session. They seem like a great group. All women. That should be interesting. I feel happy and excited about teaching them. But there is still that hollow feeling in my heart. I imagined myself, for one moment, married with beautiful children and a cozy home, working with computers from 9-5 AND teaching that class. That would really make me feel happy and excited.

Umm...socks.

I added some new pictures of my cats. Note the one of Posey with the sock. She has always loved my socks. Only mine. She carries them in her mouth, throws them up in the air attempting to catch them, rolls unto her back with the sock in her front paws kicking at it with her back paws. The fat cat just lies there watching. She isn't into socks. She loves her string. I have never seen or heard of a cat obsessed with socks before.

The other day I came home and there were 5 on the floor upstairs and 3 downstairs. Friday I came home and there were 6 upstairs and 2 downstairs. Last night there was only 1 upstairs and 2 downstairs. In case you are wondering where they are all coming from; I have yet to fold the socks sitting in my laundry basket and put them away. This is how she is getting her little paws on them. I picked them up and put them back in the basket each day, but this didn't stop her. She just really really loves socks. Last night I was thinking about how long those socks have been sitting in that basket and how lazy I am with getting laundry put away and how I really should take care of them. But why take her fun away, right?

The Crazy Thoughts of Single Women

My students are in the process of working on an audio project where they provide the character voices for an animated film. I really wanted this to be high-tech project with professional looking results. So, I contacted the media department and, to my delight, they said they were not only willing to let us use their recording studios, but do all the recording for us as well. Yesterday was our first "take" (notice how I am using the lingo now) and my students did a fantastic job. I had wondered to myself whether or not the graduate student who would be doing the recording would be cute. I do this all the time. I go to a meeting, the gas station, or even into Walgreen's thinking maybe there will be someone cute there and he will sweep me off my feet. Did you ever hear someone say: "I met my husband at the gas station. It was very romantic! (sigh)" There never is, of course. So I headed into the studio yesterday with my coffee stained pants (see previous post), my hair in a ponytail, and no make up on. And yep, you guessed it! He was rather attractive. Very cute, really nice, sharp and stylish dresser, good sense of humor, smart and, most importantly, wearing a Tigers hat! I instantly felt myself blush and looked down at my jeans to see how apparent the coffee stain was in the studio lighting. Difficult to see it, thank goodness. We sat down and started recording.

Overall, we didn't say much. Mainly we talked about the recording, when/if we should do a do-over, and how it was going. There isn't anything very interesting to note about our conversation. As per usual, he didn't show much interest in me. I was very nervous. The thoughts that were running through my head and the things I imagined! I kept wondering if he could smell the stale coffee or see the stain on my jeans. I wondered if he had a girlfriend, how old he was, what his "type" was. At one point, I noted his Tigers hat, asking if he was a fan. He said yes and I shared that I was one as well. A few moments later I imagined him turning to me and saying: I know this probably isn't the best time to ask, but would you like to go to a game with me sometime? How ridiculous is that? I am sure that was the farthest thing from his mind. I was chewing on my fingers out of nervousness and kept wondering whether or not he noticed and did he think it a disgusting habit. He smiled at me a couple of times but, overall, didn't show much interest.

When were finished and getting ready to leave, I told him if he had any questions he could just email me. He said he wouldn't need to pretty quickly. So I left thinking that he somehow must have heard all those crazy thoughts in my head. I will see him again on Monday and, naturally, I don't want to show up in a ponytail with no make-up again. But I also don't want him to think I am interested and spend the whole session hoping I don't hit on him. But then again, as he is only a graduate student he is probably way too young for me anyway. So none of this even matters. Ah, the joys of being single as I often say.

Oops

Last week at rehearsal I spilled coffee all over the front of my jeans. I had to sit with my pants cold and sticking to my legs and reeking of coffee, for the remainder of rehearsal. I got home and changed into my pajamas later that evening. Apparently I got up the next morning and as I was tidying up I picked up the jeans, forgetting about the "coffee catastrophe" from the night before, folded them up, and put them away neatly in my drawer.

This morning as I was choosing something to wear I went to my jeans drawer, out of habit, pulled them out, and put them on. It took me until about half way through the day (after I had smelled something a bit stale but couldn't place it). I looked down and saw a giant stain covering both legs and, yes you guessed it, my crotchal region. Oh joy. One can only hope no one noticed. That's what I get from trying to better about keeping my bedroom picked up.

bye bye blues

It's nice to know that although it can be tough to shake things off at times, if you keep on shaking you'll get there. Regardless of all the negative thoughts that kept threatening to take over my birthday, in the end, it turned out to be a pretty good day.

The cast of the show I am directing surprised me with a little singing and a lot of ice cream cake. Yes, I know, the "Blue's Clues" theme may seem a bit juvenile but it's a long story. I have to admit, it was nice to get a surprise like that, and to feel special on one's birthday. I mean, who doesn't want that, right?

The evening ended with some Tomb Raider action at my friend Melissa's house. As she put it, we made some real nice progress. The game playing, mixed with the traditional green olives, triscuits, and assortment of cheese spread (yes, we take our game playing very seriously folks), some rum and diet colke (hee hee...sorry, inside joke), and fantastic company, made for a really nice birthday celebration.

And just like that...poof! Yesterday's dark mood disappears in a puff of smoke.

A Birthday Wish

Well, today is the day. A few Happy Birthdays from some very good friends have already been sent my way. And I just received a birthday card from my mother and father. It goes something like this:

Today is your day, Daughter.
It's a day to look back and celebrate
all the ways you've grown and changed
and blessed the lives of those around you.
It's a day to look forward
to the many exciting moments ahead-
moments just waiting for you to live them
in your own unique way,
with laughter and beauty and grace.
And it's a day to remind you
of two important things:
You are a beautiful gift to this world.
And you are always, always loved.

My mother has always done that. She is one of those people who stands in the card aisle for hours, looking for the perfect card; the card that says exactly how she feels and just what that person needs to hear.

Interesting. It is just a Birthday card but it made me sit and think. It's a day to look forward to the many exciting moments ahead- moments just waiting for you to live them... I am not sure why I find this so difficult.

I can remember when I was 17. I had met this boy and was hoping he would ask me to the Homecoming dance. I was a Senior and I had never been asked to Homecoming, let alone Prom. I had confessed this secret wish to my mother and expressed my fears that it would never happen. My mother asked me to close my eyes. She told me to really see myself there, at the Homecoming dance with this boy. To picture my dress, his suit, the smile on my face. To see us dancing, with our arms around one another. I did as she asked and then I opened my eyes. She told me that if I could see it and believe it could happen, then it would happen. He asked me to the dance. He was my first boyfriend and my "first love", as the saying goes. She was right. It worked.

Of course it isn't that easy with everything. But this morning, on my 36th birthday, when I am having trouble not focusing on all the things I don't have, that I thought I would; I am realizing it is about hope. I am afraid to hope. I guess so much time has gone by I have somehow allowed hope to fizzle out of my life. So today, I will take a moment to close my eyes and really see myself exactly where I want to be. To picture myself in a wedding dress. To see the baby in my arms with him, whoever he may be, at my side. To picture my family outside in the backyard on a sunny day. And, one day at a time, I will do all I can to hold on to the hope that it will happen.

Happy Birthday to Me

I am turning 36 tomorrow. No, I am not too excited about this. Maybe 36 doesn't seem old to you, but I tell ya, it does to me. I feel very old. I feel this way mainly because I wanted to have so much more accomplished in my life by the age of 36. I never imagined, in my wildest dreams, that I would be living in my parents basement, very soon to be jobless, with not even a glimmer of hope for a relationship, and motherhood simply being a constant ache in my chest and lump in my throat. But, alas, I feel there isn't too much to gain from going on and on, wallowing in the negative. So, I have decided I would put down 36 things that make me happy. They are as follows:

1. spending time with my family
2. hanging out with my friends
3. playing with my neices and nephews
4. all the babies and little kids in my life
5. the time I have left with my friend before she moves away
6. the little bit of sun that has been in and out today
7. my cats
8. cheese, beer, and pizza
9. the swimming pool
10. movies
11. my cute clothes and my flip flops that I get to wear soon
12. my master's degree
13. singing
14. music
15. the trees and the sky
16. toenail polish
17. my make up
18. the casino
19. video games like the tomb raider I am playing right now
20. the sun that is on it's way
21. my car
22. my new windshield wipers
23. card games
24. microwave popcorn
25. going to the movies
26. the popcorn at the movies
27. homemade choclate chip cookies (you know who you are)
28. my mom's cooking
29. lying in the sun
30. my hoop earrings
31. sleeping
32. driving with the windows down when it's sunny and warm out
33. holidays
34. camping
35. fishing
36. and me, i guess

Check, please!

It is difficult being 35 years old and being single. As one would probably guess, all of my friends are married and half of them have kids. So, needlesss to say, I am the only one on a mission to find my other half. This is a frustrating mission because of where I am in my life. The chances of finding that person at a bar, like we did when we were in our 20's, are pretty slim and the whole online thing? I've tried it time and time again. In the end it gives me nothing but a head ache. So what's left, right? Not much. But, as I always say, who am I going to meet staying inside watching movies and drinking beer by myself? Am I going to fall madly in love with the mailman? Or the meter-reader dude? I have to do something. So, I like to try and go out for drinks and something to eat a couple of times a week to at least "put myself out there" as the saying goes. And, as all of my friends are not on a mission like I am, they aren't always up for it.

Yesterday the mission was in full force. I looked online a bit, thinking to myself all the while "Why do I do this to myself? Isn't this the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?". I gave it my best shot for a good hour or two but gave up in the end as the task was proving fruitless yet again. I decided I would go out for dinner and drinks, by myself, and see where that lead me. In retrospect, if I were to do it over again, I would have stuck with my alternate plan...going home, doing my laundry and talking to my cats.

I got to the bar and the scene was pretty lame, as to be expected. There were only a few scattered people. A couple of families and a slew of older men. The majority of these men were regulars who are married and in their 50's. I searched for a spot and chose one of the only empty stools at the bar. My plan? Order some pizza, have a couple of beers, and see what happens. I had been sitting there only a couple of minutes when I sensed someone looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I glanced quickly and saw a short, stocky man, with greying hair, easily in his mid 60's, fairly drunk, and apparently headed my way. I looked back to the television, so as not to stare, and felt him standing there, taking a real good look at me. He sat down next to me, where his beer had been sitting, and immediately began talking to me. And talking to me and talking to me and talking to me What was he talking about? He was talking about cell phones and whether or not we could get a signal in the bar and if not it was probably because of some metal plates placed in the ceilings and how he was supposed to meet his uncle but he wasn't here and blah blah blah. I was very polite. This is something I used to be awful at. I would go so far as to say I used to be rude. Not that I was trying to be rude, by any means, it just made me feel uncomfortable. Over time, I learned that the majority of these men are fairly harmless and so I smiled, answered his questions, and was pretty polite. He then said he was going to go outside to make a phone call. This is where it gets interesting. He came back in and realized there were, in fact, 2 stools next to me, the one he was sitting in and the one next to that. So he stares for a moment and finally asks me, with slurred speech: "Which one was I sitting in?" I smiled and said: "Oh, I don't know. I think that one.", pointing to the one next to me. He first sits in the one next to me but doesn't say much. Then he says, out of the blue: "Would you rather I sit in that other one?" I answered a bit confused: "Oh it doesn't matter to me, whichever one you'd like to sit in is fine with me. I'm not too worried about it." He stands there for a moment, looking at me, and then answers, a bit "put off": "Oh good answer, gooooooood answer." He moved to the other stool, sat down, and stared at me for a bit with a look of drunkened irritation. I sat there for a moment, sort of just staring at the TV in disbelief, and then turned to the bartender and said: "Can I have that pizza to go, please?"

Spooky

I direct plays. And as many of you know, even you non-theatre goers, every play has a theme. I would presume it is only normal that I would chose to direct a play I like, that has a theme I can relate to. Is it normal, however, that every play that I direct has a theme that completely reflects the ongoing "theme" in my own life at this present moment? I think not. The last play I directed focused around faith, learning to have faith in one's life, to give up control and let what is meant to be, be. One rehearsal after the next I would leave thinking "wait a minute here, this is my life!" I would sit in rehearsal, coaching the actors, and hear myself say: "you're frustrated because you know what you want but you aren't getting it and you want to be able to control the situation, you want to make it happen, you don't know how to just relax and let things happen the way they were meant to". This was something I was struggling with in my own life. I would hear the thoughts echoing in my head, thoughts I had been saying to myself on a daily basis. It was just so weird.

So I moved on to the next play. Theme? The struggle to find one's purpose in life. Um...if you have read any of my past blogs, you can imagine how much that relates to exactly where I am in my life right now. And it's not like I FORCE this theme. It's not like I am directing Hamlet and I tell my actors "this play is about not knowing if you will get a job".

I mean come on, this is weird right?

Where did I go?

Yes, I know, I haven't posted in a million years. And for two reasons. I have been extremely busy and I tend to think of things that might be interesting to post just as quickly as I toss them out in case they are, in retrospect, uninteresting. I would like to bring your attention to my last post which was titled: "Impatiently Waiting". Hmm...maybe that is another reaon why I haven't posted in so long. Things haven't changed much. That title sums up my current state of being quite accurately. I have, at this present moment in time, applied to approximately 20 positions. And I am waiting and waiting to see what will come of all of this.

I have acquired phone interviews with three of them. The phone interviews went well, I would say. And one University in particular has gone as far as to call my references. Two of the Universities left me with the dreaded comment "We will be in touch with you in a week". This is where the trouble comes in. One would think that would be a fantastic thing to hear, wouldn't one? For me, however, it is a very dangerous thing to say, indeed. I would do much better with something more cold and vague like: "Thanks. Bye." But to tell me they would be in touch with me in a week? What were they thinking? Didn't they know what they were doing to me? Why would this affect me in this way, you may ask? Well, because I can tell you that exactly ONE minute ago was officially "one week" that I last spoke with the aforementionedcheckedmyreferences University. So, naturally, I am sitting here thinking "Well, it's been a week. I haven't heard from them. Why haven't they called me? What does it mean? Did I not interview well? Did they not like what my references said?"

There is no point to any of this, I know that. They could call in 20 minutes or tomorrow or Monday or who knows when. It really doesn't mean anything. But still. People should learn to not say such specific things to such a literal person like me. It's sheer torture.