I've Moved

I've moved and my writing will now be elsewhere.

If you're still around, you can find me here:

www.becomingtabitha.com

Teach Sleep Run Repeat

Teach
Sleep
Run
Repeat

The amazing thing about life lately is, I sleep. I've been sleeping at least 7-8 hours a night. Sleeping is doing wonders. I don't think I slept for the duration of the PLI program. 15 months without rest. How did I manage that? Now...

I have and can remember my dreams, vividly.
I drink coffee because I want to, not because I have to.
My skin is happier.
My eyes, are open =)
I feel energized.
I can feel my emotions.

It's amazing. It's a revelation. So the sleeping I think, is the most wonderful recent change in my life. The other changes, are wonderful too, but require more work and is taking a longer time for me to acclimate and get use to - teaching at a new school and starting to run regularly again.

The two things I love the most and that I have the most experience with, are currently, my biggest challenges. I think that's what it is. I'm supposed to be a seasoned teacher by now and I'm supposed to be a seasoned runner too - but the reality for me is, I still have a lot of room to grow, a lot of work to do, a lot of miles to log in. I haven't reached the 10,000 hour mark yet, I'm not an expert yet. Gasp, I'm not perfect and perfect is always what I want.

And, on top of it all - I want to get that home bought once and for all AND I want to be in Hawaii, rocking a white bikini.

I'm not going to give up. I believe I'll get there - to the finish line and into that white bikini. I'll keep you posted.

Dark Matter

I know
The weight of things
Heavier 
With the knowing

I am the physicist
Measuring the weight
Of the universe

I am the cosmologist
Searching
For exploding stars

I am
The answer to

The husbands
that left
The dreams 
that died
The home 
they are losing

I am
The dark matter
They are searching for

The one
That will hold it all
Together

Here they are
Exploding one by one
Landing piece by piece
Into my body

The stars in my universe
Lighting the darkness inside

Las Palomas

We want the red
velvet walls.
The wooden panels
painted.

Blood roses
bleeding.
La Chicana
hanging.
Out.

I'm Puro Mexicana.
Puro Boyle Heights.
You can still hear
el Mariachi
playing.

But I can hear them
without the roses,
without the Stella
Artois.

I hear them remembering
a forgotten song,
with salted cans
of Tecate
and a miniature statue
of Santo Nino de Atocha.

We don't take pictures there
with the posters
of young women,
cracked barstools,
mirrors,
and old men.

He Says

He told me,

“You could never be a wife,

let alone a mother.

What do you know?

I mean, look at how selfish you are.

“You don’t even wash your own clothes.

You need to know how to take care of yourself

take care of others…

you’ve never even had a father.

Wives talk

to their fathers

for advice, for support.

Anytime they don’t know what to do

that’s where good women go

to their fathers

for their wisdom.

“Your family doesn’t even have any men

and they never will.

“You don’t even know how to cook

now, you want to be a mother?

Sure, they say

some women

learn from cookbooks and

figure it out.

But those are the exceptions

and you are not.

“You’ve never

seen,

felt,

inhaled,

pure, unconditional love.

Mothers and wives have good families

families that are whole.

You don’t even have that.

You’ve never seen a wife and a husband,

a father and a mother,

so that you could

hear it,

feel it,

mimic it,

know it, by heart.

“They know what love is:

compromise,

hard work.

Most women just know stuff like that.

They can heal a man’s pain with their love.

You don’t know about love,

caring,

sacrifice.

“Look at your friends,

they’re married.

“That life

Is passing you by.

You’re busy

teaching,

writing,

thinking,

changing the world.

You don’t know what its going to take.

“No sweetie.

No man will ever stay with you

unless you change.

So put that dream down

and change the channel for me,

it’s time for Californication.”

Inspired by: Michelle Serros, "Annie Says"

Loneliness

Just off the highway, to El Monte, California

The full crimson moon stands atop thin rooftops, watching

And the eyes of two men

Darken with fatigue

They have come slowly out of their apartments

In time, to observe my car and me

I drive past them along Exline headed to Gilman

The street where they had been standing all day, without work

They sigh a deep sigh, unable to contain their sadness

Who cares that I have come

They hang to the side like unused ropes. They love their families.

There is no loneliness like theirs.

Unaware of me once more,

They begin to kick at the dry patches of grass in the darkness.

I would like to hold them both in my arms

Because they live right beside me

And their wooden doors stand beside my gated fence

Things are not black and white

I open my car window

And let the light breeze soothe my face

That has become red like the moon

Suddenly I realize

That if I stepped out of my car I would know

Their story.

Inspired by James Wright, "A Blessing"

The Story

"You're competing against at least fifty other people. I need to know you're committed."

Fifty other people.
What sets me apart from fifty other people?
What makes me different?
What makes me more compelling than money? Cold, hard cash.

We began our conversation with an exchange that is second nature to me now.
Here's the contract.
Here are my bank statements, my pre-approval letter, my deposit.
Sign here, initial here.

This search has been an exhausting, reductive experience. Within a year I can now describe what I want succinctly, within a numerical range and in square footage. I know why a good school district matters and why you wouldn't want to be close to a railroad or industrial buildings. I know the difference between a standard sale and a short sale; between a place that is active and pending; between the words turnkey and as-is.

If you asked me, well what do you really want? I would say I want stability, I want a long-term solution for a pressing need. I want a place that fits us all - her old green Singer sewing machine, the white piano I never play anymore, her collections of purses, and her boxes of shoes. A place perhaps for figs, guava, and lemons. But lately, these wants, have been last in a long line of other requirements.

Its about numbers when all I really want to think about are the figs.

The home I've found is a short sale. The numbers are what I need them to be but more importantly it's in a beautiful, quiet residential area that feels safe. The floors creak, but they are solid beneath your feet. All it would need is a new coat of paint and possibly new tiles on the kitchen floor.

The housing market in Southern California right now is an unbelievably competitive, bloody field. I'm up against cash buyers and foreign nationals who want to invest in the homes that so many families have been forced for multiple reasons to relinquish. And really, my chances are slim, it's probably naive of me to believe that I have any chance at all. But what else is there to do but hope?

I am however, hopeful. It seems to matter to my realtor that I was the first to call him and the first to see the property before over fifty others began bombarding him with calls and cash offers. He spent longer than necessary with me over coffee this morning, talking to me, telling me his story and asking me about mine. He was probably simply gauging how serious I was about this property but I'm hoping that I've happened upon an advocate for me. Someone who's not only about the numbers, but also about the figs.

Oh July, Finally

July, I made it.

Life has finally slowed down enough for me to breathe a little, relax, and write, just for myself. It might just be for tonight, but I'm thankful for it.

I'm writing on my new MacBook Pro. I. Love. It. 

I was very much a pc girl for years until I began teaching and was introduced to Apple. Every public school I've worked for has assigned me a MacBook. In June however, I accepted a teaching position at another charter school and found to my surprise that they use pc laptops instead of MacBooks. I'm sure it was inappropriate, but I think I gasped and had my mouth open in shock for several minutes when human resources told me this. That was when I realized that for the last five years, I've left my pc laptop at home completely untouched and knew immediately, that I was most likely, never going to touch it again. So tonight, I bought my first MacBook. And again - I. Love. It.

That's all for now. Just a short post to get warmed up. Tomorrow I begin my second round of the Writing Project at Cal State L.A. and plan on doing my daily journal writing online instead of in my paper journal.

Lots of positive change and new beginnings. Woo hoo!

You are
A million small pieces

Tiny fragments
Of me

I want to write you
Into every part

Slip you inside the eye
Of this needle

Weave together
Every thread

But tonight
I can't

I'm putting down
The untold story

Letting go
Of this pen

Full Circle

I have two hearts

Every evening
I close my eyes
Reach down
And choose
Just one

Tonight 
It takes the shape
Of a dandelion 

Memories cast lightly
Across an old
Uneven sidewalk

Dreams drifting 
In midair

I wait for them
To land
Within me