Wednesday, November 30, 2011

I forgot about the blue heron

People always talk about good years.
About the good times and the good memories.
And they try and forget about the bad.
Or at least, they won't tell you about them.
They'll simply think about them when they're alone.
Most people like to do their crying in private.

My parents and I were talking about Christmas this year.
About the things we wanted to do, the things we loved.
I asked if my brother and I would still get stockings because that's my favorite.
And my mom said yes and that we did them last year.
And my dad said, no, we didn't.
And I agreed with mom and argued that we had.
But dad, remembering accurately, said no, that was another year.
Last year we didn't.
Last year was different.

I'd forgotten.
I guess I'd forgotten some other things too.
I'd forgotten that tomorrow marks a year.
A year since I've heard from the kid who still manages to haunt my memories.
And at the most inopportune times.
I wonder if I still ever creep into his mind.
Like some canadian penny unwanted amidst all his change.

Last year was a bad year.
A wretched, frightful, god awful year.
And I survived.

And now this year is nearly over and in some small way, in my own tiny little world, I feel like I've caught the moon.
I walked through those floods and still managed to see the planes flying overhead, guiding me forward.
And I still hold my breath when I glance up and see one unexpectedly.
Little things catch me off guard.

I met someone.
He's not mine in anyway.
Not my lover or my soul mate or my beau.
He just is someone who took the time to see me.
And listen.
And stay after my story was over.

And I feel like a girl again.
I feel like I remembered the person I was before last year tried to make me disappear.

And I love how I feel.

I love that I no longer have a desire to look back to a past that did nothing to nurture my future.
And I hope it stays there.
I hope my past lets my new memories replace the old.

Because I deserve that.

We all do.

And it's impossible to see the twinkle lights sparkling before you when your mind is somewhere else.
You simply miss it.
And this year, this time,
this is a good one.

At least I sure hope so.

It can't be bad if my heart is smiling with such hope.
Can it?



Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Crumbles

I told this kid once that I was a tough cookie.
And he laughed.
I haven't seen it, he said, mocking me.
And I felt like I was being challenged.
And I almost didn't believe him because I've been told that a lot; that I'm strong, that I'm a tough cookie, that I can handle a lot.

But I guess people that weren't there to see me handle all that other stuff don't know the difference.

It was interesting because it totally made me feel like I needed to prove myself.
Which is funny because I think most of the time when people question me I just think, whatever, believe what you want to believe.

In a lot of my relationships I'm the one that's strong.
I'm the one that's ok, that's happy, that's believing the best and encouraging the people around me.
And that's my role and I love it.

I mean I've never been one of those people that's battled depression or anxiety and felt bombarded by life.
I might have a bad day here and there but overall I'm a pretty happy person.
But lately some things have happened that have kind of knocked me down and I am having a hard time staying strong.
I am having a hard time believing the best and being ok and being happy.

And it's peculiar because I feel like so many people in my life are so often that way and they come to me when they need to remember the truth of all that's within them and the good things in their life and then when I'm the one falling to pieces people look at me like I'm crazy and like, what's wrong with you?

And it's a pretty disconcerting feeling.
It makes me feel really alone.
And I hate being alone.
And all I want is to have someone to talk to and have someone keep me company so that I don't have to feel so crazy.



I went to church late and I was late to the noon service.
How much of a slacker can I be.
And maybe it's stupid but I felt guilty about being so late.
As I began to sit down I realized there was this kid behind me who was also late and also looking for a seat so I moved down one and he sat next to me.
He looked young and I mean, I know I look young and people always think I'm younger than I am but I would have guessed that he was in his early twenties.

I've been feeling weighed down by things and the service was really moving.
At the end of the sermon we broke up into small groups to pray and we were to pray for an enemy of ours, for somebody who had done us wrong.
And I didn't know what to say and I didn't really feel like I had the strength to lead or to even speak.
There was this adult couple with us and this kid.
And it was this kid, this guy next to me that led prayer.
When we were finished and they were playing worship songs I felt so moved by everything, I started crying. I felt like I had turned into my mom.
I was crying during a song in church.
I cried these big fat tears and my mascara and my eyeliner were running down my face.
It got so bad I couldn't see and I had to leave.
That kid sitting next to me was on the end and he stepped out of the way so I could exit and as I walked past him he lightly, lovingly patted me on the shoulder, as if to say, it's ok.

And I thought how desperately I wanted to have a man like that in my life, someone who could lead when I didn't feel strong enough to speak and someone who would reassure me when I felt overwhelmed about things being ok.
And he just seemed like this really young kid, you know?
But he was so strong.
And that was so nice.
It was so nice being around somebody that was strong.
For once.
And to feel like it was ok that I wasn't, in that moment.
That it was ok that I was sad.



I think I kind of fell in love with that kid.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

hauntings

You were in my head last night.
I don't know what you were doing there.
It had been a really long time.
And I really thought it'd be someone else I'd be thinking about.
But it was you.
You invading my thoughts, your face appearing in my mind when the lyrics were sung.

My mind had to be playing tricks on me

Why else would you be there?
What purpose could you possibly serve?
And are you ever going to leave me alone?
Ever?

I've loved others, you know.
I've wanted other men and other dreams and other kisses that resulted in shooting stars.

And yet these moments exist, these dark little corners of my mind where light suddenly shines, and you are always there.
And my heart twists with this sharp pain and causes water to spill from the corners of my eyes.
And I wonder about you.
How you are, if you're ok, if you're happy.
If you'll ever write me.

At the end of the song the lights were flashing around the ballroom and they stopped on the disco ball overhead.
And it looked like a million stars were everywhere.
I realized how long its been since I looked at the stars.
And I thought wherever you are, you're watching them.
Because that's how you are.
At least, that's how I remember you to be...

I'm certain I'll never know the difference.





Friday, November 18, 2011

I'm leaving a star

I used to work with this theatre director who would never consider me for any role other than chorus.
No matter how much I sang my heart out in my auditions he would still only ever cast me as little Susie Q, chorus girl number three.
It was maddening to say the least.
Because it's not like I didn't have the vocal chops to outsing any of the other leading ladies.
He just never let me read for those parts.
He never saw me as his leading lady.
He saw me as his reliable chorus girl, shining brightly in the background.

It took me a long time to realize that I didn't need to try and win over that director.
I needed to find a new director.
Because I did work with some directors who only saw me as their leading ladies, directors who precast me in leading roles before they even held their general auditions.
Because they simply wanted me that badly.

But I can't expect every director to see all that is within me.
I can't expect most people to either.

I worked my curvacious behind off today.
I felt like I was channeling my old school barista self who only cared about brightening each customers day.
I even managed to soothe a disgruntled customer who nearly walked out of the store.
But she let me do her makeup and before she left she gave me a hug.
That's pretty incredible to see somebody's intense rage and loving gratitude all within the same hour.

But with each pair of appreciative eyes there are always more staring me down with scowls on their faces.
And their accusations accosted my ears and I countered their words with sincere truth.
And they looked back at me with cold, blank stares.
And I felt my shoulders grow heavy with that familiar weight of disdain and I could no longer stand up straight.

My seventh grade math teacher told me once I was bad news.
I don't remember what I must have done to set her off but I do remember getting after school detention and some guy asking me, "What are YOU doing here?"
Goody goodies didn't usually frequent detention.
"I don't know," I had answered. "My teacher thinks I'm a bad egg."

And that was that.
From then on out, that teacher believed she had me all figured out and she never saw me as anything but a poor, unruly student.
I was merely a chorus girl to her, fading in the background, being shoved to the last back row of chairs.

But thankfully, I had lots of other teachers.
Teachers who nurtured me and valued me and saw all the potential stirring inside me.
And they lifted me up and they allowed me to soar.
They appreciated my sass and my opinions and my propensity for always going left or right.
I left an impression.
And that was actually a good thing.

And I remembered tonight how important it was to not drink from the well.
And I marvelled over the truth that maybe my casting director was elsewhere.

Maybe my time as a chorus girl was merely preparation.
Maybe I had other stages to conqueor.
And maybe I'd actually be satisfied when my current role was recast.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

my looking glass

I have a love affair with a store in Portland.
It's a little boutique next to a bar that has the most eclectic appetizers Clinton street has to offer.
And whenever I walk in, the store is filled with so many carefully displayed items I'm almost afraid to reach out and pick anything up for fear of destroying the picture they've created.
Everything is vintage.
Everything is equisite.
Everything is totally Resafied.

It must have been an especially magical day because when I walked into the store they were having a sale.
In all the years I've shopped there, I've never once been there when they had a sale.
Magic.
I was the only one in the store so the lady working there visited with me while I shopped.
She complimented my hat.
And pointed out different items she thought I might like.
It was like shopping with a best friend only I'd never met this woman before in my life.

I told her I was looking for a new hat to wear to my birthday party.
And when I found several that I was trying to decide between she gave me a reduced price so I could get all of them.
I found a beautiful, black fur coat from the 50's that was a fourth as expensive as every other fur coat in the store.
Why is this on sale? I asked. There's nothing wrong with it.
She just laughed and shook her head.
I don't know. I wasn't here when the items were selected for reduction. I don't think a whole lot of thought went into which items were on sale. It probably shouldn't be.

I slipped my hands into the pockets and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My hand pulled out a coin that had been left in the pocket.
My lucky penny.

She wrapped up my purchases in pink tissue paper and asked me where I worked.
I work in cosmetics, I said.
Awe, that explains it. Your makeup is flawless. I used to want to do that, you know. Before I got into all this, now I'm obsessed.
Yeah, I can see why. I used to want to have my own vintage shop. But then I thought I wouldn't want to sell anything because I'd want to keep it all.

I looked up at a shelf that was higher than the rest in the store.
What's that? Is that a hat?
She pulled down a small magenta hat with feathers and netting.
It was unlike anything I'd ever seen.
Yeah, it's falling apart though. But it's still beautiful. It'd be worth a lot if it wasn't so worn.
I held the hat in my hands, turning it over.
I placed it on my unkempt curls and smiled at my reflection.
It was perfect.
I'd found my hat. 
My thirty, flirty and thriving hat.

I just stood there, smiling, remembering how great it felt to look at myself and see all my eyes reflected.
I'd forgotten.
I'd forgotten how simple it was to ignore the stares others eyes projected.
And simply open my own eyes long enough to see what I already knew was there.
And how beautiful, how beautiful I remained, even when I was falling apart.



Monday, November 14, 2011

Tomorrowland

My ex said goodbye to me again.
I can't even tell you how many times he's said goodbye because it's kind of ridiculous.
I don't even like calling him my ex because it was so much more than that.
It was a relationship that wasn't like anything I've had before so it seems weird to just put an X on it,
like it's the same as everything else in my past.

He said that I was good, that I didn't need him anymore.
And it's funny because depending on who you are, depending on who might say that, you might think that it was mean.
But it was the opposite.
It was incredibly loving and what I needed.

Sometimes I don't know what I need.

But even though I knew that it was a good thing it's still hard.
Because I don't know that I'm ready to not need him anymore.
Then who would I need?
Or would I need anybody?
And is that ok?
Is that a bad thing?

It's an overwhelming thing.

I love change.
I love things that are new and different, meeting new people trying new things.
But I also always wanna have some people, some things that I can count on, that I can rely on.
Like, them being there and how they'll feel about me.
People are so fickle and they're always changing their minds.
They're always running with what their emotions tell them to do.
And it's sometimes hard to count on much of anything.

The reason ending relationships is hard is because that person saw something in us that we wanted to believe.
Or that we needed to believe.
And letting go of that person is like letting go of that idea, that that person no longer believes what they once did.
And so we fear that it must not be true.
Because if they no longer believe it then maybe it was never real in the first place.
And we mourn the loss of the person but we also mourn the loss of the idea.
We fear letting go of that person, even if it's somebody we already lost, because it's like admitting that they were right and that it's not true.
It's not real.

So we revel in our mourning.
We delight in our sadness because while we're thinking about them it still exists.
The idea can still be real in our memories.

But what we don't realize is that we have to let go of them.
We have to let go of their perceptions of us, their ideas because there are so many people waiting to share what they see and what they believe.
And we can't embrace these new ideas until we really let go of the past and say goodbye.
And admit that we don't need them anymore and that that's ok.

And the hope is that sometime we'll realize that it doesn't matter what other people see or believe because we'll know.
We'll know the truth.
And we'll finally believe it and see all that is within us and that'll be enough.

And everything else and everyone else can be these wonderful little extras, these surprising delights, that make our smiles that already exist on our faces even brighter.
Because they see what we see.
And those moments are what it's all about.
They are why we sparkle the world.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

I would like you to know I was right. You're welcome.

I have an overwhelming capacity to believe the best in people.
I've been told it's one of my worst qualities.
Simply because some assholes should warrant enough common sense to leave well enough alone.
But this asshole wants to believe they'll come around.
I'm a schmuck that way.

But the truth is, I think my perception of someone does have a great influence on how they'll behave towards me.
Like those times when someone's done something shitty.
Say, they said something untrue.
Now I could act awkward and indifferent around them, I could no longer talk to them the way I used to, or I could continue being my bubbly, happy self in spite of the colors they have revealed.
If I'm weird towards someone they in turn will be weird towards me.
And if I'm loving to someone....
it is my hope they'll return such sentiments.

Oh sure, dicks will be dicks.
And maybe my pearls will continue to be mistakenly cast aside.
But maybe they'll open up and make time for me when I desperately need them to.
Maybe they'll show support instead of hostility.
Maybe the enemies I loved will need me someday.
Anything is a possibility.

But to my delight and awe filled wonder, I watched someone's presumed indifference fall away.
And I'd like to believe I played a small role in that.
I believed in all they failed to see.
And how lovely to watch as they finally see it too, see all that is before them,
even see me.

Hello again and possibly even goodbye

I deactivated my Facebook account for a week.
Some very unpleasant drama went down and all I wanted to do was hide from the world.
It was like some theme on a variation of last year and while you'd think an attention whore like myself would be thrilled to be watched by so many judging eyes I wanted to disappear completely.
Some perceptions are just too exhausting to try and deflect.

The thing I found amusing was I didn't miss it.
In fact I think it helped not having it.
Suddenly my days were focused on who I saw and talked to and not obsessing over what everyone was doing without me.
Curious, that social networking nonsense.

I reactivated my account because I realized I can't live my life afraid of what everyone's gonna think.
I could turn myself into a docile, stepford robot and still somehow manage to ruffle someone's petticoats.
It's a gift.
Some of us are so very blessed.

And while I'm not so foolish as to claim I. Don't. Care.
I can no longer care to the point I'm afraid to be anything other than I am.
I am a bold person.
I will most assuredly leave an impression.
And if those in the audience are so clouded with misconceptions to see who dances before them?
Well, then I bid them adieu.
Each and every one.

I cannot feign.
I simply am.
And goodbyes are far less painful than lies.
Ciao.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Batman's my boyfriend

Do you know what's so great about Batman?
How he can simultaneously be unpredictable and reliable at the same time.
You never know what he might do or when he'll do it, but you know when you really need him, he'll always be there.
I love that about Batman.

He is my boyfriend, after all.
Well.....
as much as anyone can be Batman's girlfriend.
He has so many other people to protect, you know.

Life has turned upside down once again and it's hard to see anything clearly.
It seems I fail as a woman in more ways than one.
And it's hard looking anyone in the eye when apparently they are the gateway to my villianous ways.

But no matter how many people yell I am bad as I am there is a small flicker of fire within me that fights to believe they are all wrong.
ALL. Of. Them.

And whenever I need a dose of faith, Batman appears.
He exists to remind me I am not bad as I am.
But that I am lovely.

I need men like that in my life.

Mother says I keep having this effect on men, this overwhelming need to have me, powerless to resist my irresistibility.
And yet they continue to run away with their hands in the air as though I were trying to place a hex on them.
And I stand there blinking my eyes in the distance.
I merely wanted to love you.

How vile of me.

But for a moment, a much needed moment, I was reminded my heart does show through my eyes.
And I should keep my head up.
And simply walk forward.

I have nowhere else to go.
I have no reason to stay.

Play Me

when I go-Slow Club
first day of my life-Bright Eyes
midnight coward-Stars
rocks and daggers-Noah and the Whale
high and dry-Radiohead
if i wrote you-Dar Williams
i was made for you-She&Him
love and some verses-Iron&Wine
slow show-The National
i will follow you into the dark-Death Cab for Cutie
sol solis-Moving Mountains
i go to the barn because-Band of Horses
wait-Alexi Murdoch
thistle and weeds-Mumford&Sons

A Bad Situation

You are bad for me.

The words kept echoing in my head for days.
I couldn't believe they had really been spoken.
And by someone I really cared for.
Surely, there had been a mistake.
He must have thought he was talking to a different person.
Another Resa.
Someone who didn't care about anyone but herself.

It's frightening how people can really perceive you.

I not only thought this person liked me, I thought they got me.
You know, one of those people who knows what you're thinking before you say it, who guesses you're still in bed and craving kisses rather than being productive on your day off.
That kind of understanding.

But instead my desire for friendship had created a bad situation.
I was becoming a bad situation in every area of my life.

And here I thought we were supposed to just be ourselves.
Apparently not when yourself is so extreme.
Because I'm too much and need to be toned down.
Take it down a notch, the only acting note I got from my first film class.

I'm too much.
Too much for men.
Too much for my coworkers.
Too too much.

But I don't know how to flip the off switch.
How does one refrain from being who they are?
And which version of myself should I be?
Which parts of me are tolerable enough to remain?
My loud laugh?
My propensity to tell stories?
My insatiable appetite?
My desire to communicate love?

Somebody please tell me so I can adjust accordingly.

Contrary to popular belief I do actually aim to please.
How very foolish of me.

And then maybe when I become fully the little stepford robot they've created me to be they'll stop trying to drive me away because I'm too extreme and let me stay put for awhile.

Or maybe they'd be bored with me and forget I even exist.

I don't know which is worse.
I think I'd rather be hated than forgotten.
At least I'd make an impression.
At least I could have that.

no responsibility

I am a girl
I act hostile
I am selfish and tempramental
I throw things when I'm not in the room
I am untrustworthy
I am unprofessional
I scream at you when my lips are still shut
I am too flirty
I am a persistent vixen
I lure in new prey when I blink
I am a bad situation
I am always on the left or right
I claw at your eyes and spit on your tongue
I am everything you say I am
I am all you believe me to be
I am not real
I am not me

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

My new friend, Tim

I started going to a church I really like.
It has been years since I did that.
And two of my closest friends go to the same church.
I forgot how wonderful that is to fellowship together.

This particular church is really big, a lot like the one I grew up in.
And there are a lot of young people who go there.
There's unlimited free coffee with french vanilla creamer and muffins and orange juice after the service.
It's like the Disneyland of churches.

And even though I've only been going for a month I think it'd be really cool to meet a guy there.
Not like, The One, just a guy, any old guy.
Someone who doesn't run away when he learns how wonderful I am.
You know, someone like that.

So on this particular Sunday me and my friend, Giselle, took our sleepy rears to the 8am service and silently sipped on coffee while trying to wake up.
A few minutes passed and a gentleman came and sat down next to us.
Now, he was no Cary Grant, but he could definitely pass for Cary Grant's cousin.
Twice removed, but whatever.

We exchanged names and pleasantries during the meet and greet and as the service ended he smiled at me and said, It was really nice to meet you, Teresa.
Then he turned to Giselle and said, I'm sorry, what was your name again?
Nothing makes you feel quite so pretty so early in the morning as a man who remembers your name.
Fortunately Giselle was already spoken for so it was no skin off her nose.

We sat together, Giselle and I, munching away on treats and I glanced around the room.
There, talking with two other gentlemen was my new friend, Tim.
He saw me and smiled.

I met a boy, I thought. I met a boy at church.

All things really are possible.
And it's nice sometimes to drag myself out of bed and remember that.

...The Spotless Mind...

I had my own Eternal Sunshine moment on Halloween.
Which I've decided is either really freaky or really rad.

I was meeting some friends at a bar I've never been to and I arrived first.
I sat at the bar next to a Storm Trooper and took in the room.
There was a live band playing and the place was pretty packed.
There were a lot of attractive men there.
I mean, a LOT.
Gotta love Halloween.

There were a couple of guys who I was immediately drawn to and to my surprise they were nearly twins.
Tall, lanky bearded guys who smiled a lot.
It seems my ex has cursed me with a type.
Damn PC.

It was nice being out, the energy of new people, the anticipation of what the night might bring.
I felt really beautiful that night and it seemed reflected in each gentlemen's eyes.
When Maggie got to the bar she asked me to go to the powder room with her which was on the opposite side of the bar.
We passed one of the guys I'd been scamming on earlier and I noticed from behind how much hotter he was up close.
Men aren't the only ones who appreciate a nice ass.

The ladies room had a long line so Maggie and I piled into the mens washroom and left the gentleman waiting his turn giggling as we stumbled out together.
Still laughing we passed the same group of people again and the tall drink of water who had grabbed my attention was now sitting at the table facing us.
I glanced his way and continued walking.
Then stopped.
I looked at him again.
No, I thought. It couldn't be. Could it?

Maggie, I think that guy is Richie.
What? she asked. Really?
Yeah. Unless I'm delusional.

I walked over to the stranger and tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned around and a smile lit his face when he saw me.
He gave me a hug and my mind reeled over the fact that I'd been drawn to a guy I'd already dated.

Are we really so predictable and tedious as to repeat our same actions?
Over and over and over again?

Not only was my attraction amusing, the fact I was running into him at all was mildly alarming.
I'd asked a dozen friends last minute what they were up to that evening and the only one going out was my friend, Maggie.
And the place she was headed to happened to be the place Richie was, a guy I hadn't seen in at least a month.

Life does crazy things sometimes.

I ended up meeting another attractive stranger I enjoyed talking to that night.
And I don't know if I'll ever see him again.
That's the tragic beauty of nights, I guess.

I talked to a lot of people I didn't know and was so buzzed and distracted by everything I lacked the social graces to simply say It was nice meeting you and instead would finish a sentence and then abruptly walk away without saying anything.  It was like my body physicalized the expression, Ooh look! Something shiny!
I didn't even say goodbye to the new stranger I'd delighted in.
And I liked him.

But I did say goodbye to Richie.
And maybe that moment, that night, was simply existing for that.
Sometimes I think things are far less complicated than we realize.
And the few times we pause and take a second glance are usually the times we finally see what all is there.
And sometimes, what all isn't.

Haiku for slumber

I love my bed so
It warms me with fluffy hugs
Laughing at last nights