11/26/17

The Baby Daddy, the Husband, and the Homewrecker

Last Friday night after Claire's housewarming party Tem and I went to her friend's to check out her new apartment and to meet another friend's husband.

We started playing the self conscious oral health inducing game, speak out. It was the women vs the men. It seemed strange three men thrown together in an apartment our only commonality was the women we like are friends with one another.

The baby daddy kept passive aggressively fighting with the future mother of his child taking jabs about using duct tape to hang everything and apparently preplanned discussions about taking pictures or not.
The husband seemed in good spirits for some reason bringing up his wife's previous expeditions blacking out and his subsequent carrying of her out gas stations.
The homewrecker ate an entire pint of ice cream that belonged to the host, unapologetically

I wonder what we thought of each other and what we thought of each other's relationships
I know at least how I feel about them
I wonder what the baby daddy thinks of the homewrecker, I wonder what he thinks of the husband, and I wonder how he feels living in this city away from his life creating a new one for his circumstances. I wonder if he thinks about it each morning when he wakes up or late at night before he goes to bed. The husband, He's known the women in the room longer than the other men by many years. I wonder his thoughts on these women we like, I wonder his views on the men in comparison to previous relationships. I wonder what the story looks like through his lens how things have played out. I suppose I wonder these same things about the women. How do they feel about their friends and how their friends' lives have been unfolding. How do they feel about their own lives, are any of the people at this table happy? If they could wipe their 20's clean and start fresh would they be at this table tonight? I wonder what the women think of their friends' significant others are they happy for each other, do they have concerns they'd like to voice but, don't?

I wonder if I think too much and I just need to chill the fuck out.
Life is so very strange.

Thanksgiving 2017 in Wauseon, Ohio.

I drove to Wauseon the morning of Thanksgiving. I arrived, we ate, we watched TV during the meal. After the meal we began the tradition of putting the tree up...Tyler put in Christmas Vacation as we did it. I'm not sure why my brother is so set in these strange traditions...I know what anyone who knows me would think about that statement from me...but it's different. I have no problem with the tradition of putting up the tree after the meal. Everything being the same...It's the fact that we have to watch that 28 year old movie EVERY YEAR...yeah it's funny I get it but maybe let it breathe for a year or two, maybe I want to watch the Cowboys game...Afterwards he said we have to watch Home Alone...again a 27 year old movie... I won't go into my families love of the television being on because it does help fill the silence that might create conflict to talk about the NFL players taking a knee because I'm sure my family is sick of hearing my big city liberal rants. I'm sure they don't even listen to me when I speak.

After the tree was set everyone went to bed and Black Friday arrived. I really wanted to slip back to Columbus but I knew I should put in some time with my family. My dad picked up a shift working at the hospitals kitchen. As he informed us yesterday he only takes the shifts of those who work hard at the hospital he wouldn't take a "bum's shift"

On our way to Toledo my mother started oversharing some issues she's been having with my dad since the store was closed. She mentioned a virus on the computer he wouldn't tell her the source of it...She mentioned his near $100 tabs at the local bar while she's out of town visiting her family...Why he wouldn't go with her to visit her family...I don't know but I'm not surprised... She starts talking about how his income at the moment is about $500 every two weeks... It felt strange hearing my mother complain about her marriage to my brother and I. I tried to pace out a few "huhs" and "yeahs" while Tyler stayed completely silent and out of it...I should have turned to Tyler and said if you want to save this family they are going to need at least one grand kid out of you and Brittany it's been over 5 years of marriage after probably another 4 or so years of dating...

We finished our shopping got back home just as Doug was returning from work. I hugged them all goodbye and left for Columbus.

I wonder how my dad feels...I wouldn't even know how to begin to have a deep conversation with my father. I've never had one in my life with him. I'm not even sure I know who he is, the kind of man he is.

Week 13 of teaching completed.

Novo Amor & Ed Tullett - Terraform

11/19/17

...Getting up, he hurried into his study, returned at once with two cigarette lighters which he set down on the coffee table. "Look at these. Look the same, don't they? Well, listen. One has historicity in it." He grinned at her. "Pick them up. Go ahead. One's worth oh, maybe forty or fifty thousand dollars on the collectors' market."
The girl gingerly picked up the two lighters and examined them.
"Don't you feel it?" he kidded her, "The historicity?"
She said, "What is 'historicity'?"
"When a thing has history in it. Listen. One of these two Zippo lighters was in Franklin D. Roosevelt's pocket when he was assassinated. And one wasn't. One has historicity, a hell of a lot of it. As much as any object ever had. And one has nothing, Can you feel it?" He nudged her. "You can't. You can't tell which is which. There's no 'mystical plasmic presences,' no 'aura' around it."
"Gee," the girl said, awed. "Is that really true? That he had one of those on him that day?"
"Sure. And I know which it is. You see my point. It's all a big racket; they're playing it on themselves. I mean a gun goes through a famous battle, like the Meuse-Argonne, and it's the same as if it hadn't, unless you know. It's in here." He tapped his head. "In the mind, not the gun. I used to be a collector. In fact, that's how I got into this business. I collected stamps. Early British colonies."
The girl now stood at the window, her arms folded, gazing out at the lights of downtown San Francisco. "My mother and dad used to say we wouldn't have lost the war if he had lived," she said.
"Okay," Wyndam-Matson went on. "Now suppose say last year the Canadian Government or somebody, anybody, finds the plates from which some old stamp was printed. And the ink. And a supply of --"
"I don't believe either of those two lighters belonged to Franklin Roosevelt," the girl said.
Wyndam-Matson giggled. "That's my point! I'd have to prove it to you with some sort of document. A paper of authenticity. And so it's all a fake, a mass delusion. The paper proves its worth, not the object itself!"
-The Man in the High Castle Chapter 5 By Philip K. Dick

Last Saturday I got one of the best birthday presents ever and definitely the best non birthday birthday present ever. Tem took me to see Wendell Berry speak in Kentucky.

I have to be honest I wasn't has excited to see him as I was the idea that she thought of and wanted to take me to see him speak. That was amazing.

When we arrived in this small town we were early. We grabbed some lunch at a bar downtown and walked over to the Berry Center to hear him. The place was small and packed the room was hot with still air. We listened to four or so other poets before he went on. One of them retold a story about taking his friend to a cemetery to grieve and when they arrived there were two unmarked graves the person didn't know which to grieve in front of. This reminded me of the quote above. How strange we as humans put meaning on things that would otherwise be meaningless without the information in our heads. It's just a headstone until someone tells you who lies beneath.

Wendell spoke last and his entrance was everything I wanted it to be. He was simply sitting in the front row of the crowd all along. He stood up and read some of his work.

I can't seem to find the title of the first piece it was about fields and woods and the importance of leaving the woods beside the man made fields. I loved it and I can't seem to find it.

The second was The Sycamore

In the place that is my own place, whose earth
I am shaped in and must bear, there is an old tree growing,
a great sycamore that is a wondrous healer of itself.
Fences have been tied to it, nails driven into it,
hacks and whittles cut in it, the lightning has burned it.
There is no year it has flourished in
that has not harmed it. There is a hollow in it
that is its death, though its living brims whitely
at the lip of the darkness and flows outward.
Over all its scars has come the seamless white
of the bark. It bears the gnarls of its history
healed over. It has risen to a strange perfection
in the warp and bending of its long growth.
It has gathered all accidents into its purpose.
It has become the intention and radiance of its dark fate.
It is a fact, sublime, mystical and unassailable.
In all the country there is no other like it.
I recognize in it a principle, an indwelling
the same as itself, and greater, that I would be ruled by.
I see that it stands in its place and feeds upon it,
and is fed upon, and is native, and maker.
-Wendell Berry

I literally heard this man read this poem. That's something no one can take from me and it's something beautifully given to me by Tem.

We walked around the center, we saw this man's life's work. We saw his awards, shelf after shelf of his books a photograph of President Obama, Michelle, and Wendell.

What an amazing life and yet how unbelievably lackluster.
I loved it. I love how this poet chooses to stay in his town in Kentucky. I love how he sits front row not back stage. I love how he allows old friends to interrupt his reading even though he's the whole reason for the occasion.

Afterwards we visited Alan and the night had me laughing uncontrollably it would have been the capstone for the weekend if it wasn't only Saturday. Sunday we went to see Waitress together and that was generous of her to invite me, not because of the price of the ticket (although that was very generous) but to allow me to share in something meaningful to her. For her to open that part of herself up to me I know how much that show means to her on many levels. For her to invite me into that was very generous it was the perfect ending to a perfect non birthday gift weekend.

Yesterday Tem told me she feels lucky to have me in her life. Her eyes fixed on mine her sweatshirt sweatpants comfortable beautiful self close to me, those words coming from someone I desire to hear them from felt better than anything physical.

That moment.
I like her a lot.
I wanted that moment all day, all week.
Cats, comforters, calm music, cuddling.
The perfect way to spend a gray Columbus Saturday.

I drove her to the airport, I was less than pleased to take her to be taken away. The drive was irritably brief. I handed her luggage to her and the farewell didn't seem fair and I certainly wasn't well.

Friday I tell myself, She'll come back (I trust) Friday.

I can not wait to see her again.

Natalia Lafourcade - Tú sí sabes quererme

11/12/17

I'm starting to like Tem more and more, like a lot.
I don't know, this makes me nervous because there's only one way to go once it gets on this level and that's to fuck it up and lose this amazing woman.

I'm liking her more, which means I'm wanting her around more, which means she's in my life more, which means she's becoming a part of me. Two things could happen.
1: I start taking her for granted which a couple weeks ago I was already nervous about that happening.
2: I start getting more and more insecure around her because she sees more of me and means more to me.

I guess there's a third option where this just keeps getting better, we keep seeing more of each other and learning more...but I think trust is hard for the both of us and I think the more the other means to us the more anxiety is instilled in the trust. No one wants to be the trusting one in the relationship while the other one isn't feeling it as much.

It's a Trust Cold War
who will press the button first?

Or maybe that's just how I think and that probably isn't healthy. As soon as something starts to be too good to be true my instincts tell me it'll come crashing down so you might as well start backing out now to soften the fall.

I don't want to view this in that way. I want to trust her, she says the best things, she says all the things I want to her but I've also been told these things before and they usually precede the break up talk followed by a lot of "I did mean those things...when I said them"

Tem is just so perfect. She's so amazing I keep finding myself taking her for granted.
It's almost too natural and too easy to be with her.

She makes me forget that past relationships would have fought about things we seem to laugh about. Past relationships would have butted heads on certain minor things that we seem to roll right through.

Last week, after brunch at the German Village Coffee shop we split ways to change our clothes before we went on a hike while the weather was warm and the leaves were beautiful. After we split I couldn't stop thinking about how I wasn't thinking about how amazing she is.

We waited for brunch for over an hour and it seemed like 3 minutes. I wanted to spend the day with her and she wanted that too. I picked a metro park and she was cool with it. We both wanted to get a drink out and wind down with a movie after... If we have something we disagree on we solve it without a fight, and actually it isn't a compromise or at least it doesn't feel like a compromise it feels like we understand where the other is coming from so we both want it.

I don't know how else to describe whatever is happening other than I must be taking her for granted.

I'm worried about a birthday present for her, I'm worried about a Christmas present for her... I can't begin to express how I feel about her through a gift.

I try to look her in the eyes and tell her I really like her, I try to tell her this is so great but my words don't seem to quite scratch the itch, they don't exactly express the sensation of having her in my life. She not only gets along with my friends but my friends like her and her friends are all great.

I've had past relationships where all their friends say we aren't good together. Or mind say it about us but this isn't anything like that.

Tem is amazing, We've been hanging out constantly it seems for three and a half months and it feels like it's only been three weeks and it feels like it's not nearly been enough time with her every time we are together. Last weekend when the work week started I didn't want her to go. I didn't want the weekend to end even though I had neglected all my planning and responsibilities to get more time with her, it wasn't enough.

It never is.
What the hell is happening to me?

Who. Is. She.

Sara Bareilles and the Broadway Cast of Waitress Perform

11/05/17

“I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Monday: Leave my place at 7:25am didn't step over the threshold until 10:00pm
Tuesday: Leave at 6:30 get home at 7:00pm spend some time with Travis venting about children disrespecting us and how powerless we are in our own careers, find out my debit card number was stolen, call and sort that out.
Wednesday: Leave at 7:25 and get home around 7:00pm again prepare and eat dinner work on my budget for the month of October tweet to my friends I haven't seen in over a week about pizza
Thursday: Leave at 7:25 drive up to Westerville after work around 7:00 find out my friend is going to be a dad in March, which means they have been pregnant for around 4 months and I had no idea. Catch up and drive back down past downtown get to sleep around 11:30
Friday: Leave at 6:30 step through my front door around 6:00pm Uber on it's way to pick me up around 6:10 out drinking

...exhusted
worn thin
running on fumes

I am tired

But I don't know what to do. I don't want to cut anything out of my schedule. I refuse to be the person who comes home watches TV and repeats.

That will not be my story and my life.

But it feels like my plate is too full

gym
teaching
friends
planning
Tempestt
message parents
her friends
document behaviors
groceries
collect student data
debt
student learning objectives
football
teacher based team
brunch
grade cards are due
birthday parties
PAR person observing my classroom for evaluation

I. am. thin.

My old job I use to show up 5 minutes before I had to be with the kids, now I show up an hour and fifteen minutes before. My old job I use to leave the minute I was off. Now I stay 3 hours later.

But I don't have much to show for that time.
I still have so much to do.
I spend my days looking forward to seeing my friends and Tempestt when I leave but when I finally leave all I can think about is rest. sleep. tomorrow.
No one else feels like this, everyone around me wants to go. Stay out, keep drinking, what's wrong with you? Constantly getting called boring because I'm tired, constantly getting called old because I'm yawning with a bedtime of 10pm. Trying to force my body to do everything I want to do in a day but failing.

I end up being frustrated and angry at my limitations and I get looks from the group like I'm not having fun because I'm tired. Then I make people end their nights earlier than they want because I can't go anymore. Friday I woke up excited to finally see Tempestt after four nights of not seeing her. I had 100% energy to see her, hold her, kiss her at the end of the night. After work I was feeling more like 50% I still want to at least kiss for a bit...by the end of the evening out I wasn't sure if I'd have enough energy to take my contacts out...I was contemplating resting my head and eyes for a bit at the bar...

that's frustrating.
People I care about aren't getting the time and attention I believe they deserve from me. I want to give them.
I'm not even giving myself the self care I need.
I haven't shaved this week.
I use to read a book I was interested in at least a chapter a day if not more.
My classroom is even getting the short end of the stick I feel my lessons are unprepared and disorganized. I feel like I need to make more visual cues but where the fuck is the time?
The curriculum moves so fast if I spend 2 hours making a perfect lesson with visual prompts on Reading then I still need to do the same for math, language arts, science, and social studies. Then Friday comes around and I need to scrap that move on to the next topics creating all new resources for the 5 subjects all over again.

During instruction I have students who can count to 100 and I have some that can't count to 4. I have students who can read a level 3 book and some who are pre level A. All the while attempting to keep every student engaged and tracking progress, recording data, and attempting to keep the screaming angry crying child in the back of the room away from the rest of the students so no one gets hurt.

scarfing down a .30 bowl of ramen during my 5 minute lunch and trying to drink water as I feel light headed from yelling to keep control of the room.

Exhausted.
And poor Tempestt the one I want to feel the most cared for and the most attention towards ends up feeling hurt and confused as my daily wick is burned to smoke by the time I get time for her and we both part ways feeling our needs aren't met.

But I don't want to be a half ass teacher. It's not why I spent that year and a half in my attic room studying and writing papers until 10 each night. It's not why I broke up with Kelly to focus more on earning that 4.0 I didn't sign with Columbus City Schools so that they could have another burned out exhausted teacher who speaks poorly of their class and lowers expectations. It's not why I wanted to be a teacher and it isn't what I will be to these future generations. I will give them the knowledge they need to succeed in future grade levels. I will give them a perception of school that is fun and challenging. I will lay a solid foundation for a life long career of learning not just k-12 or college but beyond that.

And I don't want to be a lump on a couch after work. I refuse to write my story that way. I don't know how to solve these issues. I don't know how to balance it all but I want it all and I will have it all. I want a life well lived and I will have that life. It will be filled with successful students, friends who know how much they mean to me, and my own needs and wants for my life to be met.

I held the better cards
But every stroke of luck has got to bleed through
It's got to bleed through
You held the balance of the time
That only blindly I could read you
But I could read you
It's like you told me
Go forward slowly
It's not a race to the end

I saw the part of you
That only when you're older you will see too
You will see too

Flora Cash - You're Somebody Else