Tailgating

I went to my first Aggie football game today (we lost against UNM), drank five beers, and tailgated for the first time, legally. I went once my sophomore year of college for awhile and drank a beer (I think) and ended up driving Asher and Matt in Asher's car. It was a scary experience as I recall. This however, was an awesome experience. I hung out for 10 hours with a crowd 25 years older than I, made up of former Aggie football players from '77/78.

At the Aggie football game they honored the 1978 Football team (they won the championships that year) which included my AP and a bunch of other men that I met tonight. One in particular, of course, caught my eye. Even after 5 beers, I had to ask myself which category he fell under, asshole or gay, for me to be attracted to him. He was definitely very good looking, I'd peg him for late 40s.

Of course, I pretended I was 18 again, and wore my Aggie shirt and a black skirt that barely covered by ass. It was the weekend and I probably won't ever see any of these men again, plus I had fun. What's more fun than being surrounded by old white men? Half of them had wives, the other half didn't. It was an interesting crowd and something different.

The second most exciting thing that happened today: I bought a hair dryer from Sallys that was $4.99 though it was marked on clearance for $29.99 (which I was willing to pay). I plan on bleaching streaks in my hair tomorrow. For now, I guess it's bed and maybe a shower, if not it's the floor, again.

Fighting the Urge

So surprisingly I had a good day at school, I was pleasantly surprised to say the least. I was in a manifest and fought the urge to cry several times. It was silly really, it's the bleeding heart liberalness in me that was making me want to cry. I felt we were doing this kid (he's going to turn 15 next month) an injustice. Far be it for me to put my two cents in so I shut the hell up and the meeting went fine. I took charge of my second hour and managed that without a brain aneurysm (sp?) and chilled. I relaxed a bit and wasn't so Nazi like. I got to chat with my AP for a few minutes this afternoon after lunch (Chris, what you read on my blog stays on my blog).

Serena blabbed to my parents on Sunday that I had a crush on Nick. They asked me who Nick was, I replied back, "Nick who?" And then my parents laughed and said, "the smile on your face is all we needed to know." Do you know how many years they spent laughing at me and my uncontrollable smile every time they mentioned the name Josh? It still kills me to see his mom every now and then. Well tonight I'm forgoing the homework. I have to write 10 pages on me, an oral history on my family and research my cultural identity. I can't really even bring myself to do either right now. Instead I'd rather write 10 pages on how insensitive the components of the paper are. My parents family's history have little to do with me, they were all dead except for one whom I barely even remember. They haven't shaped me and who I am as a person. I think it's shit. I could probably tell him in 10 pages how I think the assignment is shit and how some people cannot identify themselves with "a culture" nor have oral histories about their family. Whatever, I don't really know anything, after all, I am the person that somehow applied to be an undergraduate this summer....even though I had graduate status.

Fear

This is one of the things that stop people from pursing love. With my whole bout of uncertainty of my own self-concept I am having lots of fears right now. One of them is the fear of not being worth it. Nick told me that I was spending too much energy on him because he wasn't worth it, but now I have to ask myself, "Does he think I'm worth it." And though I ask myself this question, I know the answer, and it's a big fat NO. Typing this thought out loud makes me want to find my cold dark corner, curl up and go to sleep, crying. What a horrible, self-depreciating thought, but I can't help it and I'm not looking for affirmation here. I guess this is what depression does to you. I know I'm suffering a bout of depression because all I want to do is go to sleep. It solves everything.

I got a call from the graduate college and they told me that I registered this summer as an undergraduate so I don't actually have graduate status. I got an email from someone down at the graduate college telling me this and they actually typed, "I don't know why you did this, but you reapplied as an undergraduate this summer." I replied back, "I don't know why I did it either. I don't remember doing it." That's odd, was I alseep? Who knows, I sure as hell don't. So now I've got to drag my ass down to the graduate college and get that all straightened out. Admitting to people that I am stupid goes a long ways, they tend to feel sorry for you if you've already realized your own stupidity.

A Slap in the Face

I think I may have gotten the slap in the face that I've been needing for at least a month now. I extended the hand of friendship (probably something I haven't done since I was in grade school) and had it given back in the form of "cool. that was nice to hear." Then he went on to say he was super busy.

So I think this is the response I needed to put my ship back into fast forward and move on. Get the fuck out of dodge. I can do it, I've got stacks of homework, a couple of assignments that were due yesterday, and more coming up. I could stay super busy myself, I need to be super busy I was just hoping the world would pass me by. It did. Time moved on with out me, even though I could have sworn I'm the center of the Universe; Copernicus was wrong. Well going to the second round of birthday festivities this afternoon. Sending Serena off to the parents house to finish the cake with Grandpa. Serena will go to be tonight and I'll get some mad homework done. There will be a return to Normalcy, there must be, something's gotta give.

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Okay so I put Serena to bed. I must be PMSing between wanting to give my child away today to anyone who would have her, to crying at school on Friday because my AP hurt my feelings, to snapping at my general ed teacher on Wed, telling him I wasn't in the mood for his racial jokes. I was doing the dishes tonight, the last weeks events and thoughts running through my head and I realized that I am pretty much everything I hate. No wonder I'll never love myself. The worst realization in all that is I've been having to tell people at school, "I'm not a bleeding heart liberal but blah blah blah." I look back at the incident on Friday (the one that made me want to cry) and the only conclusion is that it was a bad judgement call because my bleeding heart liberalness was clouding my judgement. I am a bleeding heart liberal. What have I become? I'm a bleeding heart liberal, emotional train wreck, advocator to a population which will crowd the prisons in a few years. How have I become what I hate. Is this really me? I don't even know who me is anymore. I can't recognize her in the mirror and I sure as hell can't recognize her in actions. This new person who has taken over doesn't think or do anything that would fall under the normal Sara. I'm having an identity crisis along with a career crisis and all at the wrong time. Could this not happen in a year when I'll be done with school and have the time to deal with it? I can't actually imagine yet what life will be like when I can just kick my shoes off when I come home and do the mommy thing instead of the mommy, daddy, and student thing. Knowing me I will like and get lazy. Please, someone move my cheese. For now I must dive into the sea of homework. My beloved homework.

Disgusting

I've been doing a lot of disgusting things lately. For instance, I can't even remember the last time I washed my coffee mug. Right now I'm sipping on coffee that was made 10 hours ago. Which really isn't all that bad since I've been drinking coffee that is two or three days old. There are dirty kleenex's surrounding me. I have been finding them in my bathroom, on my bed, on my computer desk, in my car, at school, in my pockets. All of this has been out of sheer laziness or perhaps apathy towards cleanliness. Who knows? I've got class tomorrow night, I'm looking forward to it like I'm looking forward towards physical therapy. Either way, painful, long, excruciating.

I started this week on a good note, getting piss drunk and crying. I have officially reached teacher status, getting drunk on a Monday. I didn't even brush my teeth last night (another disgusting thing I've done recently). I've also been smoking a lot more than usual, another disgusting activity. All will stop eventually, although I don't foresee it happening in the near future. For now I've lost my mojo, I still haven't found the short in my AC adapter and my battery won't charge.

Magenta

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of the melon collie. However, I can almost make out the Danger Ahead sign, I know it's coming without having to look. After the sadness comes the anger, right? I am almost done with being sad that Nick has made my choice for me and decided that he's not worth it. I wanted that choice, but I'm fully aware what I want and what I get are often two different things.

I wanted to title this blog post, "Fuck You" but I thought it was a little bit too harsh. I am angry now. I've finally realized what Jana's been so angry about and now I'm angry with her. I'm angry that Nick has left me in the abyss. His cowardliness has left me in the abyss. This has resulted in me wanting to push him over the edge. I want to just say something to get him to tell me to go away or to wait out the storm. I'm willing to do either one of those. Right now, I just want black and white, no shades of gray. Is he putting me through a test? Is he seeing if I have the endurance, dedication or is he pleading for help? I want to believe it's more complex than that. I am wondering if I've read this book all wrong and it's really so simple that I can't get it.

I teach a diverse population and should know better. Not all people are complex, some people are bananas, with only two layers, some people are like tomatoes, a thin skin with a little something inside, and some people are like onions, a tough skin on the outside with a hundred different layers on the inside. I am pretty sure I can make everyone either a veggie or a fruit.

I was thinking about batteries and about everyone having one. I was trying to think about my own battery and have come to a conclusion. My own battery runs on several things, both intangible and tangible objects. Pride tends to keep my battery running quite often, hope is also another factor, while insanity is my indicator for a low battery. I believe there must be a short in my charger because my battery has been dead for quite some time. It took an unforeseeable event, chance if you will, to get some juice to my battery. The awakening has been pretty painful and uncomfortable. I feel like I'm trying to fight the stupid message that Sprint gives me when my battery has just enough life in it to tell me that it needs to be recharged so my phone automatically shuts off. I'm not an idiot, I know my phone needs to be recharged, I just want to push the limits and get a few seconds out of it to see if I have any missed messages. Too bad I can't do that in real life.

Things I want to be able to do in real life: Edit my life. That's the great thing about writing, you can prewrite, write, read it, reread it, and then edit if if necessary. I'd like to shut down for awhile and have an answering service that would take messages if it were an emergency. I'd also like to be able to put a certain signs that say "Open" or "Closed, Please come again" or "Work in Progress" or "Do not Disturb". These signs would make life easier for me and other people. I've been recently accused of basically being a cold hearted bitch in that I shut off my emotions like someone would shut off a faucet. Lately though my faucet's been leaking and I suspect that the pipes are just waiting to burst. I supose right about now I'd like for my sign to say "Closed for Repair".

I'm not use to having an identity crisis. I've taken pride in being a non-emotional person. I've worked hard at it, it's an art. I've been taken out of my comfort zone and left with this. It hasn't been a pretty picture. In fact I have wanted to start laughing at myself. I think if I were in the audience right about now, I'd be eating my junior mints, and choking on my Diet Coke because I'd be laughing so hard.

A Return to Normalcy

So Blogger really has not changed all that much. I find a few things irritating about the new layout but then again, I always find a few things irritating. This is not out of character for me, unlike the past three weeks.

I forgot about something I did on Wednesday, it was somewhat out of character but probably silly enough for me to do it anyways. I went to McDonalds after I dropped Serena off at school and stopped by for a drink and a cigarette. I went in and bought my Diet Coke and then walked out and was going to light one up when I thought about offering seven less minutes of life to this, what I assumed homeless man. I took two cigarettes out of my car and approached him and asked if he wanted one. He replied, "No, thank you." I asked him if he was okay with it if I stood and smoked. He told me that he didn't mind and he introduced himself. We talked he showed me a necklace he was wearing, some sort of rock (he had a name for it, I cannot recall the name) and we chatted for a few. I inquired as to whether or not he had breakfast yet, he answered, "Not yet, but I'm working on it." So I offered to buy him breakfast but I had to go to my car first and get my debit card because I do not carry cash on me. I told him that I would be back. For a split second I wondered if he thought I was going to get in my car and drive away. We went into McDonalds and I bought him a number 10, informing the lady that David was going to order breakfast. I paid, he got the food, and I left. I told him to have a good day and he said thank you.

I once bought a paper from this homeless man in a wheel chair who use to sell newspapers by Villiage Inn on El Paseo Rd., when I was in collage. I think he witnessed the accident that I had gotten myself into and spoke to the police. I felt I needed to return the favor and tipped him well.

I wanted to do something nice on Wednesday since Nick had done something nice for me. He had absolutely no obligation to call me back but he did. Why not pay it forward? For as crappy as that movie was (I hate the ending) it did had a good underlying message to it. Be kind to someone else and you get fucked anyways. The movie is a little bit fuzzy because I only saw it once as it completely scarred me, if I want to see a depressing story I can just read my journal. I go to the movies to be happy, to see things that I know do not happen in real life.

So I bought a book this morning and a pair of shoes. The book depressed me further, I broke down in Barnes and Nobles while reading it to Jana. I then felt obligated to buy the damn book and purchased it, red eyes and everything. I know the cashier looked at the title of the book and felt sorry for me because she told me, "I hope you have a really good day." Enough of that. I am hoping to get inspired to get some school work done. I think I am almost there.

It feels funny to blog on here again. I deleted my blog when I got divorced. I am sad that I deleted all of those memories and thoughts, if only on the world wide web. It was just too painful and of course my Mother made me paranoid. Well here I am, four years later. In some ways I think I have changed so much in those four years, yet alone the last two years. However, I am left wondering if I have changed dramatically in the past month. Is this changing? Or a brief moment in the grand scheme of life. Have I really been acting out of character or is this part of my character? Or better yet, has this been apart of my character all along? I can barely recognize myself. I do not know who this girl is who cries in public, in school, to complete strangers, who pours out her thoughts and feelings to a stranger, while having wine, at school, to her ex-husband. I have been wanting to take and slap her but for what? I want to know what crime I have committed, do my time, and be done with it.

The Return

I began blogging four years ago. I began a lot four years ago. I stopped blogging two years ago. I stopped a lot of things two years ago. I gave up my blog site to someone who now blogs in some foreign language that I cannot read. Ironically enough, I think it's East Asian. It's odd to blog where "everyone" can read my thoughts. I think that's why I've preferred to blog on MySpace even if it makes me feel like I'm 15 years old, having to type the name MySpace. Enough for now, as I have to reacquaint myself with Blogger.