i would LOVE! to go back to school.
i used to tell myself all the time that i would never not be taking a class - be it a music lesson, a weekend course to learn something new, or actually going for a degree. i adored being in school. every second of it. giant books filled with new things - things i wanted to know, things i didn't want to know - but things i COULD know.

and then i got sick. twice over. and had to make a decision. pay the school or pay the hospital. i had to chose hospital. the constant bills and notices were too much for me to look at anymore.
i regret it every day.
i mean, i have a good job - something that might even be considered a "career." but, that's not the point. i feel like i'm lacking so much.

i miss british literature and trying to wrap my tongue around middle english. classes about rocks, stars, words, the mind. yes, psychology. i miss psychology the most, i think.

i try to sustain myself in other books - einstein's words, old text, new text. but it's never the same. i want to argue points with someone and bicker and laugh and learn.

every time it seems i've saved enough to start again, there's a new slap in the face. the bank account drains and i'm stuck again.

but, it's an every day thought. and everyday thoughts don't go away.
i'll be back there, someday.

ken's blue subaru outback.

i had no idea how to drive. no clue. and we pulled into an old parking lot, and he had me get in the drivers seat. we drove around there for hours. HOURS! i learned how to park and change lanes, drive fast, use the mirrors, figure out the blind spot, hydroplane! all sorts of insanity.
and he let me smoke my cigarettes while doing so. my left hand is pretty useless. i'd never even held a cigarette in it. so, he let me practice.

i like ken because i can be wrong or look stupid or not know how to do something in front of him and it's still okay. and he teaches me in a way that i actually understand. because he understands me.

learning to drive wasn't about my need to get around. it was my need to have my freedom understood. and that's exactly how it went.


a side note,
the first time i actually changed lanes on the highway, i took both hands off the wheel and clapped.
the owner of that car, who wasn't ken, was not impressed.

i cannot leave home without my notebook.
i.. don't even know what i would do if i forgot it. what if i missed something? i'd forget it. there are memories every day that i need to hold on to. and, if i don't have my book, where would i put them? what would happen if i forgot?

i hate thinking of the things that may have happened in my life that i've forgotten about. parts of me that have gone missing. it's such a terrifying thing to me!

of course, there have been days i've left my book behind. a test, sometimes. to see who i can trust. typically, when the person fails the test, they don't want to talk to me after, anyway.
other times because there are sometimes things in it people need to see. because i keep it all locked up inside my head. and sometimes it wants to get out. but a look between the pages is sometimes the only way to get there.

i could lose my phone, my keys, my wallet. i'd be okay.
i would NOT be okay if i lost my book. it'd be like.. suicide. except, instead of dying, everyone would see that i'm real.

I always feel younger than i am!
i could be in a crowd of people my age and still feel like i'm the eight year old who doesn't belong. i've never understood the concept of growing up.
i'm taller. i'm smarter. i can do more stuff.
but i'm just a little kid!

i'd like to stay a little kid. and maybe that's my problem.
when you're little, everything is incredible and new. i look at everything like that. it makes it hard to see the bad. you hurt a lot more.
kids are supposed to learn lessons and recover quick.
i don't. i never have.

but i'll never be one of the adults in the room.
i'll be me with my bare feet and skinned knees.
and i'll always be the one laughing.

a snow storm, a full moon, a thunderstorm.

i have fallen.

my mother chose my name. she named me after a hair dresser.
yes, that's right. a hair dresser. who's mother happened to have the same name as my mother.
she's the only other teresa i've ever meet.
no, not the only other "ter-ee-sah"
but the only other "ter-EH-sah".

see, it's pronounced similar to that of Tourette Syndrome. which gave the the ability to swear from behind the piano in jazz band in college because "tourettsa" was the closest the director could come to getting it right.

teresa means "the harvester" or "the reaper." i suppose that right there set my life off on this path!
my middle name, named for my father, means 'free.'

the free harvester, the free reaper.
that just sounds like trouble.

learn the tune 'doe a deer'
you know, from sound of music. just learn it.

put the alphabet to the tune..
doe a deer, a female deer.
a b c d e f g

ray, a drop of golden sun
h i j k l m n

me, a name i call myself
o p q r s t u

fah, a long, long way to run
v w x y z

sew, a needle pulling thread
z y x w v u t

la, a note to follow sew
s r q p o n m l

tea, a drink with jam and bread
i h g f e d c b a

that will bring us back to do!
next time wont you sing with me!

(okay, so the end gets a little tough, but it works)

practice
and never, ever fail a sobriety test.

loud and proud. just say it.
really? who decided that certain words were going to be off-limits and why? i have actually looked for an answer to this and have really come up with nothing but speculation.

okay, i can see the use of "god" upsetting people. "do not take the lord's name in vain" and all that jazz.. but, who the hell decided that fuck, shit, hell, etc are so horrible?

do i swear a lot? yes. am i mindful of when i swear and who i swear in front of? yes.
should i be?
absolutely not.

hold your breath, hold your nose and swallow hard three times.

works. every. time.
for me, anyway.

(taken and edited from http://www.color-wheel-pro.com/color-meaning.html)


Color Meaning
Red Color Red

Red is the color of fire and blood, so it is associated with energy, war, danger, strength, power, determination as well as passion, desire, and love.

Red is a very emotionally intense color. It enhances human metabolism, increases respiration rate, and raises blood pressure. It has very high visibility, which is why stop signs, stoplights, and fire equipment are usually painted red. In heraldry, red is used to indicate courage. It is a color found in many national flags.

[...] Use it as an accent color to stimulate people to make quick decisions; [...]. [.[...], red is often used to evoke erotic feelings (red lips, red nails, red-light districts, 'Lady in Red', etc). Red is widely used to indicate danger (high voltage signs, traffic lights). This color is also commonly associated with energy, so you can use it when promoting energy drinks, games, cars, items related to sports and high physical activity.

Light red represents joy, sexuality, passion, sensitivity, and love.
Dark red is associated with vigor, willpower, leadership, courage, longing, malice, and wrath.
Reddish-brown is associated with harvest and fall.

'and she gave me a milkshake and a kiss. i don't need a whole lot more than this..'

my heart.

myheartmyheartmyheart.

i wouldn't be where i am today without it. and, though money is tight and i can't always see what's on the horizon, i'm exactly where i want to be. with people i love, people who love me. for. who. i. am.

granted, it hasn't come without a price.
see, i've always followed my heart. sort of. too much or too little is based on perspective.

i loved him. and i loved her.
my heart didn't want to choose. obviously. it was college and emotions were high and there were so many new things to try. so, you try them both. but my heart didn't want to hurt either of them. so, selfishness took over and stories were told for what i thought was their protection.
did i know it was wrong? of course i fucking did. just because i did stupid things doesn't actually mean i was stupid. and it would have worked out just find if they didn't find each other and start talking.
every lie will be found out and every lie has a consequence. and i lost, at that time, three of the greatest people i had in my life.

one came back a bunch of times. but that never worked out. thankfully, i can say, wholeheartedly and with witnesses to stand by it, that the following times actually weren't my fault - this is huge to me. because i learned how to follow my heart in different ways. i "recovered." i "got better."
i grew up.

i'm stronger because of it. i'm happier because of it. i'm me because of it.

and though i later went on to some things that most people would find ridiculous (like being a mistress to a married couple), i followed my heart. the right way.

and i am never going to stop.

mouth. noises.

'nuff said.

it doesn't matter now. it happened, it's over.

lies. heartache.
i wove a tangled web and it broke and i lost everything.
but the time of mourning is over.

a summer night. we were dancing. some fast tune. he'd spin me in, whisper something hilarious in my ear, and spin me out. i was laughing so hard i was crying.
then he spun me in and whispered
"i can trace the alphabet with my tongue on your clit in less than 30 seconds."

we dated for quite some time.

"Written on the body is a secret code only visible in certain lights; the accumulations of a lifetime gather there. In places the palimpsest is so heavily worked that the letters feel like braille. I like to keep my body rolled up away from prying eyes. Never unfold too much, tell the whole story." -jeanette winterson

have you ever gone to take your last sip from your iced coffee and been completely disappointed by the fact that it's sugary water? that last sip of refreshment that could make or break your entire day (hush, i'm a caffeine addict) gets completely ruined by the melted ice cubes.

javapalooza has a remedy. they have coffee ice cubes. i don't know why on earth i hadn't thought of this before. have i completely stolen the idea and used it at home? yes, but it's not the same as going into an amazingly chill place and ordering an iced banana foster or cinnamon bun latte and consuming every last drop.

new to west hartford,
a chipotle burrito
steak deliciousness

the book barn.

buldings, barns and old houses full of books.
cats, dogs, goats.
a phone booth with buttons to point you in the direction of the book you're looking for.
snacks.
giant checkers and dominoes.
a reading garden.
they buy and exchange your old books.

and then you get in your car, drive .9 miles up the road, to the book barn annex. where there are more books, a rabbit, a turtle, movies and even more great people.

lyman orchards.

you have no concept of what a good peach is until you have a flaming red.
juicy and sweet - like the best girl you've ever tasted.

"what kind of candy bar would you be?"
"...a toblerone."
"why? because everyone wants them but no one ever gets them??"

comic comes to life
amazing soundtrack to boot
i came in my pants

the faucet.

my town, and nine surrounding towns, have been advised not to drink the water. or, rather, to boil it first. little prehistoric thingy-doos,Copepods And Rotifers, have been found in the water supply.

it's not like i ever really wanted to drink the water from my town anyway. but, still.

macbeth? british humor?

please tell me what the hell is not to love?!




'the duke had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it regularly went cuckoo.'