God that was strange to see you again

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave

I'm not sorry I met you

I'm not sorry it's over

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I want dresses that look like cakes

I want dusted eyelashes

I want a moment to close my eyes and dream and wake up refreshed

I want sugared violets

I want cool clear streams

I want glossy lips and sweet tastes on the tongue

I want to have my thoughts and words come easily

I want to stroke the softness behind your ear, that feels like clouds

I want unicorns to exist

I long for the moors

this time I as I, and not as we

Today I was talking to one of my 11th graders who is having trouble writing her essay that's due Thursday. She feels like her thoughts are all tangled and she has no idea how to get out on paper what she is trying to say. Obviously, this is a problem I've had over the years, more with oral communication than written...but I've had to read my writing with a critical eye, piling words and arguments like a child would blocks until all of my components are present. Getting started was always the hardest. I had to learn to pour myself out onto the page, unfiltered and raw, and worry about purity and structure later. That's when I found myself saying to her, "That's why I have my blog. It's my raw space." Of course, she then wanted to know the URL, which is not happening. First of all, I'm uncomfortable with my students knowing my personal thoughts to that degree, and secondly, there's something so reassuring about sending my thoughts out into this vastness, touching immaterial forms, like they're flowing into the sea. I write here what I can't say to anyone, and it's so important that I have that sounding board, because otherwise I bottle it up and get want-to-cry headaches that pain me throughout the day.

Sometimes when I have a moment to breathe, I wipe away the negativity and the stress and the words of the haters and realize that overall, I'm in a good place right now. I still lack balance, and I wish I were better...I wish it came easier. I wish my words flowed like a stream instead of like debris projectiling from a wrecking ball. I wish that I had friends here and that I had more hours in the day. But my students are loving, and for all of the problems that come with the 10th graders, I know that I've positively affected at least one child every day. I may be too exhausted and cranky to realize it in the moment, but afterwards, I can take a step back and realize that on the disaster continuum of first-year teachers, I'm probably doing pretty well.

I took these photos today. Dried roses + glitter + teacups + crochet + crystal garlands= lovely.

Just to say

that I think that sleep is magical, as are confetti picture frames, glitter-dusted rose-petals, miniature houses, vintage buttons, bows, a good biography, and a moment to breathe.

Exhale....

Goodnight.

drip drip plop

I want a bowl of sweet red plums on my dining table, like these from Pia's blog. How lovely!

This Is Just to Say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

Beware of fainting fits...beware of swoons...

Run mad as often as you like; but do not faint.

I feel like I'm drowning in my own bottled-up tears and my own inadequacy. I know that I am just beating myself up for nothing-- for my lack of perfection-- but it's also a lack of

preparation. I know I can be doing better. But the fact is, I get home at 5 PM after being up since 6 AM and having been on my feet all day, and I'm overwhelmed with the urge to be still. To not think. To light candles and eat heart-shaped pasta and dream of canopy beds. I long for the moors...and for unicorns to exist.

I have a black-tie "do" for school on Saturday night, so I plan on gett

ing my hair styled by a professional. An updo, I think, to complement the sweetheart "neckline" and crew-neck top. It's oddly like Emily Deschanel's dress below. Of course, it's the Deschanel sisters whose styles inspire me. I need something with some volume at the crown to detract from my round face, with a sweep of my bangs to add a retro edge, and something on the simpler (and lower) side in back. What do you think?

indie girl in indy

I know I just posted, but I can't help it...this is incredible:

ashes and wine

I have the best exbf ever. He is getting me a housewarming present for the new apartment (new pictures to come, I promise-- I am now the proud owner of a sapphire blown-glass flower, a jade garden stool that holds up my DVD player, a copper wrought-iron table with delicate lattice and leaf scroll work, and a gorgeous peacock painting to decorate my previously empty hallway), so in a few days, these will be mine. They are so Holly Golightly meets Ophelia, it makes me swoon.

Castles and cathedrals crumble

Pyramids and pipelines tumble

The failure keeps you humble

Leads us closer to peace

"The love was so right but the timing was so wrong...which may be the corniest thing I've ever said to anyone."

take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while...vienna waits for you

is that alright, yeah

Give my gun away when it's loaded

This is not what I do...

lover, you should have come over

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,

While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...

~Keats, "To Autumn"~

Proust, please

Adapted from here

• Your most marked characteristic? passion.
• The quality you most like in a man? artistic sensitivity.
• The quality you most like in a woman? quirkiness.
• What do you most value in your friends? their complete dedication to being good people and supportive friends.
• What is your principle defect? anxiety that can cause a life-blockade.
• What is your favorite occupation? teaching.
• What is your dream of happiness? Happiness is when I won't have to dream of happiness, because I will finally be content with my surroundings.
• What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes? not finding true love (again), not having children.
• What would you like to be? myself.
• In what country would you like to live? England, without doubt. I long for the moors.
• What is your favorite color? forest green, bordeaux.
• What is your favorite flower? black magic roses, lavender roses, sweet williams.
• What is your favorite bird? peacock.
• Who are your favorite prose writers? Thomas Hardy, Charlotte Bronte, A. S. Byatt, Evelyn Waugh, F. Scott Fitzgerald.
• Who are your favorite poets? Keats, Tennyson, Neruda, Cummings.
• Who is your favorite hero of fiction? Sebastian Flyte.
• Who are your favorite heroines of fiction? Tess Durbeyfield, Jane Eyre, Anne Shirley.
• Who are your favorite composers? Debussey.
• Who are your favorite painters? Klimt, Waterhouse, Kandinsky, Chagall.
• Who are your heroes in real life? Audrey Hepburn, Charlotte Bronte, Decca Mitford.
• Who are your favorite heroines of history? Queen Victoria, Evelyn Nesbit, the Garman sisters
• What are your favorite names? Tessa, Sophie, Audrey, Holly, Jacob.
• What is it you most dislike? apathy.
• What historical figures do you most despise? Hitler.
• What gift do you most admire? patience, altruism
• What natural gift would you most like to possess? the ability to clearly speak my mind.
• How would you like to die? after meeting my great-grandchildren, but when I still have grasp of my memories.
• What is your present state of mind? stressed, overwhelmed, exhausted, hopeful.
• To what faults do you feel most indulgent? emotional over-involvement.
• What is your motto? 'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." ~Leonard Cohen

burn, cinnamon candle, burn. permeate my soul.

Do you remember that sunny day?

Somewhere in London

In the middle of nowhere

Didn't have nothing to do that day

Didn't want to do nothing anyway

You got a way of walking

You got a way of talking

And there's something about you

And now I know I never ever

Want to be without you

I want to be haunted by the ghost

I want to be haunted by the ghost

I want to be haunted by the ghost

I want to be haunted by the ghost

Of your precious love

Of your precious love

The first time I saw you

Standing in the street

You were so cool,

You could have put out Vietnam

My girlfriends ask me, "What's he like?:

I say, "He's kind of shy,

But that's the kind of girl I am,

He's my kind of guy."

I'll build my world around you

I'll bless the day that I found you

I'll stand beside you, I'll never leave

Or tell you all those lies

That you'd never believe.

I dream of warm baths and sea glass / peacock portraits and tender poets

pictures from here, here, here

just a little green

Load the car and write the note

Grab your bag and grab your coat

Tell the ones that need to know

We are headed north

One foot in and one foot back

But it don't pay, to live like that

So I cut the ties and I jumped the tracks

For never to return

Ah Brooklyn Brooklyn take me in

Are you aware the shape I'm in

My hands they shake my head it spins

Ah Brooklyn Brooklyn take me in

When at first I learned to speak

I used all my words to fight

With him and her and you and me

Oh but it's just a waste of time

Yeah it's such a waste of time

That woman she's got eyes that shine

Like a pair of stolen polished dimes

She asked to dance, I said it's fine

I'll see you in the morning time

Three words that became hard to say

I and love and you

What you were then, I am today

Look at the things I do

Dumbed down and numbed by time and age

Your dreams to catch the world, the cage

The highway sets the travelers' stage

All exits look the same

Three words that became hard to say

I and love and you

I and love and you

I and love and you