i am trying to be bigger than the little things that trap me.  bigger hearted, bigger minded, bigger picture.  just…bigger.  i’ve been hemmed in by this notion of a number on the scale, what it means to be a wife, what it means to be a friend, and lately i am realizing all that really matters is what it means to be me.  seriously.  i know that is cheesy and very oprah/dr. phil-ish, but it’s also heartbreakingly true.  so, i am trying to make up for some of my bad behavior.  to reach out to people from my past whom i may have hurt in an effort to align myself with other loyalties, to tell people their happiness is important to me, even if we aren’t important to each other anymore.  this goes for ex-boyfriends, past friends, relatives i’m no longer close to: nothing will ever stop me from wanting people to find the place in the world where they are happy, safe, and loved.  i’m looking desperately for that place all the time and every time i feel settled into it, i am unbelievably grateful.   i am also trying to cut myself the same slack i cut everybody else because perfection is an over-rated aspiration that can really fuck you up.

here’s to being imperfect, and knowing it is ok.

ok, blog.  it’s been awhile, and i’m not promising that i’m back for good.  the thing is, blog, i don’t get a lot from you and i’m at a place in my life where i need my relationships to be fruitful, two-sided, i need them to bring good things to me, not just guilt because i’m neglectful or absent.  blog, i want us to share the wild times of yesteryear, to communicate in that way we did once where you were the place i ran when things were good or bad, when i had a great link to share, a funny photo, or a you’ve got to be kidding me story to tell.  so, in the spirit of the latter, blog, here’s a doozy for you.

i found out today that, on friday, a student in my building told a fellow teacher that he would “put a gun in [his] fucking mouth.”  this student was NOT removed from the building, however, he was just moved to a new class.  wanna know why, blog?  it’s not because the administration or district believes in second chances, or that this kid could be rehabilitated.  oh no, that would simply be too positive.  no, blog, you will be shocked to hear that this student was kept in the building because our district is trying to keep as many kids as possible in school to keep our graduation numbers up.  yep, blog, you heard right.  the district thinks it’s ok to keep kids who threaten teachers with violence in the building as long as it decreases our dropout rate.  i’m not sure i see the correlation, but it doesn’t matter what i see, blog, because I AM EXPENDABLE.  my life, and the lives of my fellow teachers and our 1400 students, are not nearly as important as the numbers put out by the state about graduation rates.

so there you have it, blog.  i learned where i stand this week, and now you know where you stand, too.  give me a place to go and i’ll fill you up with all the shit i can;t believe happens in my life.  word.

my new niece has entered the world.  she joins brandon and teryn and oslo and bella and sam and wilson and completes their family.  she enriches ours.  i am overwhelmed with how much love i feel for this precious new human being, and cannot wait to see all of her joys and journeys as she grows into what will surely be a magnificent woman.

i’ve been missing this blog lately, but so much good has been happening, i haven’t been able to find time to write. i want to say so many things but for now, only this: life is good.

today i am 33.  it is hard to wrap my head around this number.  32 was easy, it felt like double 16: twice as giddy, twice as silly, twice as wide-eyed and optimistic, but 33 feels like i am moving farther away from youth which, i suppose, i am.  i just hope i can always hang on to the sense of wonder that has been my close companion for the past 33 years.  i love looking at the world and being amazed, stopped in my tracks, by how beautiful it can be, by how simply perfect moments as random as a thrushing breeze in the treetops can be.  i will try.  and i have to say how blessed i am on this birthday to have the most incredible friends.  great writers have written of communities of people where a sense of family exists despite differences, despite distance, and i have that.  i am the luckiest girl alive.

33–smashing pumpkins

speak to me in a language i can hear humour me
before i have to go
deep in thought i forgive everyone
as the cluttered streets greet me once again
i know i can’t be late, supper’s waiting on the table
tomorrow’s just an excuse away
so I pull my collar up and face the cold, on my own
the earth laughs beneath my heavy feet
at the blasphemy in my old jangly walk
steeple guide me to my heart and home
the sun is out and up and down again
i know i’ll make it, love can last forever
graceful swans of never topple to the earth
and you can make it last, forever you
you can make it last, forever you
and for a moment i lose myself
wrapped up in the pleasures of the world
i’ve journeyed here and there and back again

but in the same old haunts i still find my friends
mysteries not ready to reveal
sympathies i’m ready to return
i’ll make the effort, love can last forever
graceful swans of never topple to the earth
tomorrow’s just an excuse
and you can make it last, forever you
you can make it last, forever you

'her kind,' anne sexton

i have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.