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.



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