The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Friday, February 11, 2011

Other then the joy of celebrating ... postponed til Sunday for the family because she has a ton of friends and it's Friday after all ...

And it's movie night for my Prince Charming ... there is a movie I want to see The Eagle ... and an Adam Sandler movie that he wants to see (with Jennifer Anniston, but I don't remember the title)

I have sat here at the computer reading up on a few topics I am very interested in, and then I looked back at a page on this blog ... something about dreading this day ... and I have gone and made myself quite sad. I have poppies blooming on my work table here and I don't think you get to be sad with real flowers just right there ... and a movie to look forward to.

Every little freaking plane that flies over makes me ask ... when ... what about me?
I'm not in a bad mood, but I don't really want to be around people ('cept my people) because I feel ... what ... like I'm faking a good attitude? ... like all the work I did for this isn't, wasn't a big deal to me ... the guys text/fb wanting to know what'sup ... when am I going to apply out there and I tell them I am not going to ... that I am waiting on a key to a different airplane ... but they all know me ... they saw me busting my butt out there and they know I wanted to instruct out there ... I'm just wondering if I should move on to some other idea of what the next couple of years should look like for me, some new challenge. I am really tired in my heart of having this picture of how I think things are and then finding out that I was wrong ... I wasn't seeing the whole picture ... maybe I was seeing only what I wanted to look at. I bet my stuff is looking pretty rusty now. I really should have taken up marathon running. Maybe I should do that now. I don't regret pouring my self into this ... I just thought if I worked as hard as it required that ... it would go the way I thought it would. I wasn't planning on some big career ... I just wanted to teach and I knew I would be good at it. I kinda hate that all my student evals were emailed to me last week. Why would I need them? Why did I read them? It just kinda makes it worse ... I thought I had this thing sutured up. The kids said I was the most positive part of the class ... and they liked that I was available to help them individually ... that my honestly and willingness to share my personal experiences made a difference for them ... and my enthusiasm ... and encouragement . The kid who is teaching the class I taught told me he doesn't expect to finish the semester ... as soon as his stuff (helo school) comes through he's outta here. I don't blame him ... he's a good kid, and that's the way this game is played. His flight students represent rent and groceries ... and a bridge to there. I like him ... I like most of them. He called them my little birds and I acted bitchy rather then ... I made him feel stupid for being kinda sweet ... he was confused by my reaction. I behaved poorly to cover my tender spot. I gotta get better at not putting my heart out there. I figured that there was no way I could get hurt here.

Not a w***** maybe not even a whiner ... maybe just tired.

That ground school course I'm offering to the community begins late in March. This crazy weather, and his work, have kept us from meeting with the owner of the plane I think will be available to instruct in ... . I don't know. I'm pretty sure this should be a little bit less important to me then it is. Sometimes it might just be best to cut bait. I haven't figured that out yet.

I like that I don't have to work for someone I don't respect. I don't like that I don't have a job. I'm starting to feel like a Barbie doll again ... like I'm spending my days other then how I would. That doesn't make sense probably. I mean, remember how we used to dress them up and moved them around ... now they are posed here ... now in the pink convertible ... zoomzoom ... Barbie doesn't think about stuff, she is a doll ... she doesn't even blink.

No comments: