Free(dumb) Fallin'

This morning I was tired. Like, I would have skipped but I had a critique kind of tired. NPR woke me up at 6 a.m. but I silenced him until 7. I was having the best sleep of my life because I was wearing these horribly comfortable over-sized men's sweat pants. So comfortable, in fact, that I decided I would wear them to school. (no, allison, it is not cold enough outside for this attire yet, but in the art building it's kinda like wisconsin). To go along with the over-all frumpy look I was embracing today I added my glasses, a dirty-haired sloppy ponytail, my favorite sweater, and ripped shoes to the equation. I made me a to-go cup o' joe (who IS joe?!) and enjoyed some kashi almond-honey flux cereal (it was on sale at kroger's) (did i just say "kroger's" with an apostrophe s??? I'M OFFICIALLY A LOCAL!) I always make time for breakfast, no matter how late I'm running. And I am usually running late.

So here I was standing in my kitchen, frumpy, tummy full, coffee in hand, ad-design project crammed in backpack... prepared, you might say. And I had a choice to make: Do I ride my bike to school? or do I drive? I had been in limbo all morning (so for 15 minutes) over whether or not I'd exercise. I decided I'd run little tests like, "well if my project fits in my backpack I'll ride" and then it fit... but no that wasn't a good enough reason. Next test: the energy one. I blinked a few times and waved my head around to see how my equilibrium was. It was ho-hum but I figured the coffee would help. These positive tests still weren't good enough reasons though because deep down I wanted to drive to school, I want to listen to dave matthews band and roll the windows down and sip on coffee for my 14 minute commute. The down-side to driving is that I never purchased a parking pass in order to encourage my biking habits. Piss. I have to park at the church and then hike to the art building and that takes another 10 minutes. So really, riding my bike is faster, just a tad strenuous. For the final test I choose the "Does my travel mug fit in my water bottle holder on my bike?" test. Into my garage, over to my bike, coffee in the holder, dangit. it's snug as a bug. (it just took me 5 times to type bug correctly. I kept typing gub.) So this sucks, I have to ride my bike to school. I'm all outta tests. The problem: my outfit is almost comical. I usually wear athletic clothing when I ride. Huh. "oh well, this will be funny," I decide and I ride down my drive-way laughing at myself.

Fortunately, the eskimo outfit was appropriate because it was probably 58 degrees outside. At this point I knew I looked pretty eclectic, a stigma I try to avoid, but I embraced it this morning. I rode past car after car and after seeing no pedestrians I decided it was safe to cut through campus. I guess everyone was skipping class because no one was walking around, really. One student there, two here, and whoa there's a guy dressed up in an army outfit in front of the HPE. He really took me by surprise, this black man. He seamed so politicly correct, so patriotic. He was facing me, just standing there. Why was he there? My reaction: I waved at him. I waved. WHY DID I WAVE?! This is what I was thinking as I discovered I missed my turn onto the sidewalk. I quickly jerked my handlebars to the right but my pedal hit the curb and I spilled to the left. As I was mid-air several things came to my mind. First and foremost: that army man. I knew he saw me, was watching me as I fell for half and hour, he was thinking he should save me because that's what is in his blood: justice, saving people, war. Secondly: my coffee. My freaking coffee. God I cannot afford for it to spill. I need that energy. Thirdly, or really this was all occurring to me at the same time but this is in order of importance, my falling technique. Where should I put my left hand? My head? Am I going to land in that grass or right there? Right there was the answer, and there I landed, and there he came, running (because he probably has to jog a million miles a day and that's all he knows to do), and a nice oriental lady walked over too. They both referred to me as "ma'am" which I thought was a little weird seeing as how I was not in my ma'am outfit. My glasses had hit the cement and I felt like that scooby-doo character girl who's always saying "jinkies" and losing her glasses. I put my glasses back on, got up with the help of the man's nice muscular arm, and wiped off the dust of the collision. When they asked me, "are you o.k. ma'am?" I answered, "yeah yeah, I'm fine actually, I've got on a lot of padding today" and we all laughed together. Then we hugged and someone took a picture for the local paper because there we were, the all-american portrait: the oriental lady with her books, me, the slightly-trendy-yet-clear-skinned white person, coffee in hand, and the army man, no smile, full of pride, an american flag reflecting in his eyes... we're cooking each other dinner every thursday from now on and the army guy and I are getting married next June.

welcome to my life.

I lied.

Sometimes (and yes, i realize most of my blogs start with this word) I just need some attention.
Like, I want to complain about something so that everyone else feels sorry for me and for those few moments I am what they are thinking about. Me. me me me. how selfish.

Today i was selfish.

I was at Hobby Lobby. Working. Cashiering. Saying, "hullo how are you today?" "oh i'm pretty good," the lady will say (rarely does a man buy something at hobby lobby). and sometimes, depending on if she's conscious of my presence or not, she'll even ask me how I am doing... me. Teysha. The girl who exists in my head. Not their's.

My contacts were giving me trouble, handing it over on a silver platter. They were fogging up and scratching my eyeballs like crazy. I never keep track of how long I've been wearing them but I always think I should. Ha. I contacted (pun definitely intended) my roommates to see if they were available to bring me some new, soft, delightfully moist ones... and they weren't. awesome.

I have a choice at this point. I can either tough it out like any other normal human being or I can play the 'woe is me' card. I like playing cards, so I start to say something. Not to everyone, no, not at first. Just the cashier closest to me. I say, "uh man" and I rub my eye, my right one. Yeah, that one is giving me more trouble. She says, "what's wrong?" Yes! I've totally got her attention. I say something suave like, "oh nothing. Just my contacts. I think I need to change them they're really dry. No biggie" Then I ask her about the new buttons on the register. perfect...

I continue this pattern until I believe everyone has at least some knowledge of my subtle pain. Now it's time for the bathroom.

Sometimes I wish I could just get hurt... in a minor way. You know, crash into the person next to me, knowing we'd be fine and it would only be my car that got damaged. How neat would that be? I'd have to get rides everywhere... explain to people how I broke my nose and right thumb... they would love to hear me talk. I would love it. As a child I pondered jumping out of the swing when it was too high just so i could skin my knee. I longed to break my arm, to get the flu. To fly... but that's different. I was willing to do these things on purpose... and play it off as an accident.

Tonight I finally followed through.
I lied.
I played a game.

I went to the bathroom, attempted to clean my contact off with water, and then had a thought. This thought was in my mind for only about two seconds so I sure didn't think it through. I thought, "why don't I just rip my contact in half? on purpose?! THEN.." and then I ripped it. Well, it didn't work the first time so I did it again (Jesus?). And IT WORKED. I proudly stood there with two halves of sight in my fingertips. Now I was blind in one eye. How immensely exciting!!! I get to play the handicap card!!

I went and told Kaycie that I had a problem, I was cleaning my contact and ripped it (truth... but a lie at the same time. perfect). She said awww Teysha what are you going to do. and I was just like 'oh I don't know my roomates can't bring me another one so I may have to go home.' Man, this was great! I tried ringing people up but found it impossible to do without my usual sense of depth perception. I went to ask my manager if I could go home to get new contacts. How awesome is this? I may get to go for a drive, listen to music, maybe even grab a snack while I'm at the house. When I ask him he says, "well I do just fine with one eye every day. You'll be fine!"

Great. I've forgotten a very important factor. . He only has one real eye, the other is glass. I will find no sympathy here.

Definitely should have thought that through...

God has a great sense of humor.

Subtle Oceans

I was driving down South Fredonia to my advising appointment 3.7 miles away from my house. It's a long drive, but I enjoy it as long as those 30-mile-per-hour old fogies don't form a mexican road block (not racist) in front of me on north street. anyways, so I was driving... and I was hot. Sticky hot. And anxious. And wondering what I should major in. And running late. And the air-conditioning is not working. My window is open but it's not good enough. I need an air stream. Like out of a jet engine. I'm going over that hill that on my bike seems like a mountain. Mt. Everest. I role down the opposite window ...ssshhhSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I can't hear my music at all whatsoever and it's because I'm speeding. 61 in a 40. and the tornado that's happening right here between my seat and the passenger's is LOUD. and then there It is..

that relief.

it starts behind my ears. that coolness. those fingers of ice sliding in.
the roots of my hair are still damp from my shower and at this point I'm so thankful.
this 89 degree wind blowing into my car is turning into frigid a/c as it touches my scalp.

my hair is blowing everywhere, but elegantly. I'm cool. I'm happy. I'm an air mermaid.



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



Tonight I painted.
and danced ballet to yo-yo ma.

typical abilene night

Sometimes I just want to be alone.
I think everyone does.
My brother will probably interrupt me any second now. I keep hearing his frustrated footsteps. You see, our Internet keeps messing up and he’s the guy to fix it because computer engineering is …or maybe it isn’t anymore, well, it at one point if not now was/is his major.

Being home for a weekend is nice. Even a long weekend. But beyond that I’m ready to leave. Wanderlust? No. Cabin fever? Maybe that’s part of it. I think I just want to be home.

About ten minutes ago, no, 2. Two minutes ago I came into my room and lit about four haphazardly collected over the years candles. There’s a vase of dried roses on this desk too and I pushed it aside thinking of the disaster that would occur if they were to catch aflame. I turned off the lights and watched the light move as it never does with a light bulb. I noticed a loose, crispy and precarious petal hanging from an ancient bud and decided to save it its misery and lifted it from its hold. “Lifted” because it was only being held there by a cobweb. I let this paper-like petal land in a candle figuring it would burn up instantly. It’s still there. Part of it anyway. It now seems to be sunken in the clear hot wax like the titanic. It will probably be there forever and I don’t feel like connecting this happening with anything. It’s just a dead petal in a candle. Who cares.

I’ve been watching too many movies.

At ten thirty I scooped up my cat and forced him to snuggle with me as I carried him around. He gave in. Then he didn’t. So I let him go. I decided to use my parents bathroom. I didn’t have to pee that bad, I was just bored. There is no privacy in their bathroom. Going in there is like a mini-adventure in itself. First I locked the door to the kitchen. It’s tricky because the lock thing turns in the opposite direction that most locks do. I know this and yet I get it wrong every time. Next I shut the door to my parents’ room. Simple, it doesn’t lock. They’re not home. Then I lock the door to the outside. At least I think I do. I go to pull down the shade to the door window and discover that, of course, there isn’t one. I look out the back porch for a second. All I see is cold air. I decide to turn the outside light off. Then I decide to turn it back on. It’s a known fact that it’s easier to see into a place if its dark where you are and light where you want to see. I didn’t think that all the way through though at the time or I would have just turned off the bathroom light and left the outside light on. But then I would have gone to the bathroom in the dark. That could have been possible though seeing how I’ve gone to the bathroom for 20 years quite successfully. Anyways, all three doors are locked and no one seems to be outside so I take my chances. Done. My pee is a normal color and aside from the looming brown stain that has been in the toilet for a few days, all seems as it should. And no one walked in on me unlike the other day when I told my mom I was using the bathroom, not to come in, and sure enough a minute later she swings open the door. Always humiliating, getting walked in on. Pants are up and I’ve got to wash my hands ok I hate that soap. Sally-ho to the kitchen sink! I unlock, open, and unlock ugh the other way and march into the kitchen. I’m ok with dish soap. Oh wait, I despise Joy Ultra. I’ll just have to make the treck to the other bathroom. And in there I must choose between using the bath&body works soap my sister got for Christmas or the normal Softsoap that looks like loogies. Monya’s soap is supposed to be just her’s, ridiculous I know, so I opt for loogie time. Whatever. Just as I go to dry off my hands on someone’s shower towel (not the hand towel that thing is definitely full of germs) I hear my mom and sister coming in the backdoor, into the other bathroom. Ha! Perfect timing.

It’s one of those nights where I’m keeping my mouth closed so everyone’s wondering what’s wrong with me. “I’m fine” and I look her right in the eye so she knows it’s true. But maybe when I force myself to look someone in the eye I am in fact lying. Am I not fine?
The truth is I want to go do something, I want to go talk to a friend or just go lay on my car and watch the stars… but it’s too cold and no one lives here. No one. I wander aimlessly through the front yard anyways. I admire our cheerful Christmas lights that I had absolutely no part in putting up, I balance the tiny curb that lines the driveway, I stand next to the pine tree we planted about 3 years ago. And truthfully I don’t know that it was three I just stretched my finger out to see what number I’d press. And here I am looking right into your eyes, on purpose, so you’ll believe me when I tell you it was three years. Three. I believe me now. The second I realize that I’m no longer able to stand next to this tree, that instead I am actually within it because it has grown that much, is the second I realize that it grew. Odd that I did not notice the five-foot distance before this. I think the closer you get to something the more you experience its size. There’s blue Christmas lights entwined within the branches too, it was like a glimpse of floating in space. There I was, staring at the universe and the gajillion stars that make it up, below and above me, to my right and my left, breathtaking… and my phone camera showed me three lousy blue dots when I tried to take a picture. I am increasingly disappointed with cameras. They seem to be better for capturing what I cannot see rather than what I can. And that’ ok too now that I think about it. I should take more time to think about things. …without over-thinking them. Tricky.
I went back inside and stuck my hand in my stocking by the fireplace. I wanted a cherry lifesaver. I knew there were some in there but I kept pulling out the minty kind which is ok I like that kind but they’re actually minting up the entire contents of the sock which includes my favorite reese’s peanut butter cups. They’re just not the same when they’re minty. Fine, I settle for a mint. I like them. Cherry just would’ve been nice, ok?

Now it’s back to my room to write all this down because really what else is there to do? I just feel like being alone. Sometimes I just want to be. Jordan did interrupt me a few minutes ago but it was o.k.


The neighbors seem to be killing an evil stick in their back yard. I keep hearing whacking on cement.

So good.

I just got super tired all of a sudden. I should probably study a tad for psychology or shpanish but I just am sick of the books, the pages, the tiny texts. My eyes are beginning to have a hard time seeing up close now, as if they're not blind enough already.

Tonight someone asked my how my day was and I said, after thinking about it, "it was good." she said, "good as in fun? or restful? or what?" and I said, "good as in good. as in, well, I dunno I've just always used the word "good" in all honesty, not to cop out of saying how it really was. I really mean good." I kept trying to explain myself, trying to think of another word for "good" but nothing was fitting. I said at one point during our horribly detailed and laborious discussion that I meant it in "the biblical sense." whhhat?? she didn't get it, I didn't even get it. do you get what I mean?

I mean good.
I mean moral, the opposite of evil,
wholesome, not lacking.

Today was good. I woke up early, took a final, then went back to sleep while it rained outside. I was warm under my covers totally satisfied. Then I had such a good time catching up over lunch and coffee with a good friend of mine. The coffee was delicious. Christmas blend. Then I did nothing for a couple hours. I hadn't done that in a while. Then I basically finished my photo final and enjoyed the company of some good friends there in the lab. I did homework in starbucks with some more good people. I came back to my room and changed into some warm, soft clothes. I drove to my friends' house and enjoyed a couple freshly homemade cookies while they taught me how to sleep without flailing my arms awkwardly. We laughed some belly laughs. I drove back home and sat down here, amidst my clutter and mess that I've learned to accept. It feels good to be alive and blinking on this cold, rainy, what-could-be-miserable therefore, day.

today was just innately good.

and hey, I got a new camera! so to celebrate I took a horribly cliche picture of my face.


woot canon, woot.

fluent aphasia

I want to EAT that other pop-tart,
but I should really wash my jeans.
it's TOO late to stay up and write,
but I miss my cat.
what's new?
I JUST went to the store- at midnight,
but I haven't changed my calendar to november- YET.
AND I'm hungry- still,
but I have a test on thursday.
and I DONT want to go to bed,
but I'm low on salsa...
so I gotta.
if I could say SOMETHINGanything that really would change the world,
even just a little,
then
I'd QUIT putting honey in my tea.
instead,
I'd dip my burritos in FRENCH dressing...
because I've never tried that.
but

I keep dropping sprinkles.

Let it be known that on the 6,206th try you will fail.

Just found out I spelled my blog wrong... yeah I know you people noticed, don't lie. Turns out "breathe" has an "e" at the end. So this whole time I've been saying aspire to breath. That doesn't even make sense!!

In my first spelling bee I got out on my first word. They told me to spell "first" and I was like oh yeah I got this, "F-R-I-S-T." I even bet my cute ringlets gave a bounce of confidence with the last emphasis on the "T." Then the judge piped up, "No I'm sorry the correct spelling is "F-I-R-S-T. Please exit the stage." Whhhhaat???! DUH Teysha Brown! Gouhhh, why is there no catchy saying like.. "i before r except when you're an idiot?" I don't know, I remember this day vividly though. The walls were white.

So yeah, Im not going to change the web-address, that would mess up links. But now we know. Teysha is an Idiot.

and that's just reason #1

yesterday I had two stupid moments.

so reason #2:

My phone rang and it was an unknown number so I answered with my generic lady voice. There was a woman on the other line, definitely an adult, and she friendly said "hello Teysha how are ya?" and I said I was good and asked who it was. I thought I heard her say it was Adelle, my aunt who lives in Denton. I thought it was so weird that my aunt would be calling me (she never does). This lady asked how my weekend had been and I couldn't stop thinking about how weird it was. I continued the conversation in the same way I would talk to any family-member: professionalsih, trying to be funny, but unsuccessful, mature, basically trying to pretend like I really care when the truth is that I don't talk to my aunt or most of my extended family enough to really know what's going on in there life (I should work on this). I was in a daze the whole 2-minute convo. You know that feeling? The one where you're trying to talk to someone about something but really the whole time you're thinking about something else, like how confused you are? Yeah. Then near the goodbyes it finally hit me, this was not my Aunt Adelle but my descipler lady from church, Michelle. "OOOOOooooHHHHHhhh!" said my brain. So at this point I'm totally not hearing what Michelle is saying to me and I find myself saying "yeah okay that's fine" and I hang up. She must have thought that was the most awkward conversation ever, and probably rude too. I know it was. I think... I don't feel like I was actually there during it. Instead of being an active listener I was hanging out in my cebral cortex or somewhere nearby, maybe the hypothalamus.


and stupid moment #3:

I went to brush my teeth last night and found myself squeezing toothpaste into the cap... instead of onto my toothbrush.

Ok let's do the math.
I started brushing my own teeth probably around the age of what, 2? 3? Let's say 3. So I've been brushing my teeth for about (19-3) 16 years. I only brushed my teeth once a day up until college and now I brush them twice a day. So from age 3 to 18 is 15. 15 years is 5,475 days, that plus this past year x2 (5,475 + (365x2)) is 6,205. So I've gracefully brushed my teeth six-thousand two-hundred and five times and last night I squeezed toothpaste into the cap, caveman style.


I couldn't even get it back out! It's wasted now!






conslusion:

My hair should be blonde. With an "e."