Becoming a Teacher

Here in the streaked sunlight and its slimming shadows with soft warm salt curling on my lip. I can't believe I'm signing a contract today. I can't believe IronChef was fired yesterday! How do these things happen so quickly and without warning? Or, perhaps, the warnings appear but go unrecognized.

I really like it here. It's green and peaceful and I feel natural. More than anything, that's why I think this is right. I never felt that way at the music company. I was always a foreigner sitting in on someone else's world-- someone else's life. I am going to try to stay in touch with IronChef, though. I think that she is a really good person and a person worth knowing, no matter what differences in philosophy we had.

I just wish this salty sun would let up a bit... although I am glad that it is not so humid. And every now and then, the kissing grace of a breeze. So, whatever else, this is okay and I know that.

I'm glad I didn't go with Jake to Brooklyn last night. I had a bad feeling about that. Besides, too many things happened strangely yesterday. I can't believe that I bumped into the Stallion! And all I could think of was that my hair looked bad. Why do I even care? I can't even sustain a conversation with him-- we just have nothing to talk about.

But I remember how he felt and how strong he was and how deep he went. It's hard to forget, even if I never think of it. Anyway, it's about 15 minutes to my appointment, so I think I'll go in...

**********************

So-- inside now. I'm under the soft brown light on the muted striped couch in the air conditioned room. My feet are resting on the spotted, granulated carpet. My eyes are raised to the powder blue lapels of classes long gone.

I'm not sure how to act. I can't quite remember everyone's names. The rumbling in my stomach coalesces-- sucked together into a tiny pin-point which then sets its heart on leaping into my throat. At least I wasn't late this time. I just don't want to be late for my boss today either... Or the bulldog will have my head...

But what do I care? I have a home. And my B will be back tomorrow! So much has changed. It seems like it has been an eternity.

They are going to call me soon.

Vocal Practice

Sound added to jaw exercise with fingers and thumbs.

Side to side jaw-- DON'T FORCE

Panting: Short inhale and exhale. Inhale after every one. Slow and steady.

More concentration on getting air into the side and back daily AND singing.

Blowing bubbles with a straw.

A Career Move

I got the job!!! Hooray!!!

Interview

I'm off to the interview at the ----- School (on the R-train now) and I feel scared. I don't like talking to strangers. I feel shy. I also hate having to promote myself. It feels so unnatural and fake and shallow. I just want to sing and look at the water all day. Ay Buhay!

*******************

Okay, so I did it... and I think I kicked ass! I mean, whether or not they want me, I know that I could do this job and I showed them that. I have to start thinking that way about the rest of the shit in my life-- whether or not they want me, I know who I am, what I can do and I have to show it. I will find the right place for me eventually-- where my talents will be appreciated, utilized and treasured.

A Moment of Clarity

To begin again is such a beautiful thing. Especially when this is truly the only second start. To acknowledge the layered fabrications of soiled cloth-- the suffocating truths and dream realities-- the cage inside a seashell and the forever tide of guilt and sickening regret. Finally to be worn down by the sea-- to the tiny grain of sand, tired and gleaming at the center of it all. And to really see her-- me-- and grow and forgive and remember and cry and forgive again.

To come back to God-- who never had a face or a name. I've known that all along. So why did I throw myself into that fruitless, endless, and painful maze? Not able to acknowledge the wisdom and the truth that my soul turned the wrinkled corners of her mouth up at. It was all a cave. Buried deep within the burning sands. Sands which god has scooped up into the palms of his cooling hands-- allowing it to trickle back down to earth in sparkling blue droplets which run down my cheeks, over my breasts, my stomach, and leaving my thighs, shining as they gather in puddles around my ankles.

I see myself again. Perhaps only for the second time since the day that I was born. And I know that this is fleeting-- as any gift of God, any true magical vision must be-- but it is the beginning-- the gift of a light-- in bubbles blowing the dust off the reddened wooden case of my heart.

And shining tears of polish and the wailing pink folds of birth meet each other for one moment. One breath. One whisper. One blinding flash of newness. And the rest is left to me.

Love is Not Enough

Reading back on this now only makes things seem so much more pathetic. All of this patience and all of the breakthroughs, but nothing has changed at all.

Talked with Dr. G. this morning and it was really good. I have to stop worrying about what B is thinking and feeling as the barometer of this relationship, and I have to start measuring it only by what I am thinking and feeling. I mean-- if he wants me more than ever, if I feel unattractive with him then it won't work. And even if I feel great, but he is thinking bad things about me, who gives a shit what he thinks? I feel great!

The thing is-- right now I am devastated by what I read in his journal and I feel suicidally self-loathing. If it stays this way, I am resolved to end this thing once and for all. Reading back this journal only reinforces that. He may be getting better, but I am not. No-- I can't control his thoughts, but if he wants to be with me, he has to make me feel like number one.

I mean, there are smarter people, funnier people, wealthier people, more focused people, more talented people and prettier people out there. I'm not asking him to deny that. But it's like with singing-- he is proud of me and loves my voice even if it's not the "best." And that's what we have to come to here.

I think I need to give our relationship a trial period when he gets back and then write him a letter that he can take to his therapist that makes it very clear. I think the reason he feels "controlled" is because I have been using him as a barometer.

And Liu's email was so wonderful! I really wished that she lived here. I love her so much that I want to pick up and move to Colorado right now. Life would be unbearably lonely without B, but I would have my self-esteem and sense of self back.

Now is the time.

I am ready to split from him if he doesn't appreciate me, if he isn't proud of me and if I am in any way inadequate. Yes, I love him, but I think I have finally learned my lesson...

LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH.

Burnt Out

Why hasn't anything changed?

First he will fuck me, but not love me. Now he will love me, but not fuck me. Because I'm not lovable? Fuckable? There's nothing left inside of me there... not even the desire that I thought would never exhaust itself... And I am a shell. Vacuous and afraid. Trembling at every corner now with none of the old assurance. And this is my life... and it will be so forever. Because he doesn't get his fucking charge.