I Need Some Fresh Eyre

In which Ms. Blue Jeans balances bohemian with bourgeois and tries to live the Snoopy dance.

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Location: Charlottesville, VA, United States

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Tails California

Finally, a good night's sleep. It almost seemed beautiful, the kind of thing you put on the refrigerator with a magnet because just looking at it makes you feel something unblocked and unadulterated, like you've exfoliated your soul. I woke up with an old familiar voice: "Run." My body craves sunshine and uncramping. I've felt shut up for months. I can feel a warmer place with long stretches of sand like a state of mind on this cold clear morning; my eyes aren't stuck shut with frustration.
I don't want to flee Jake or work. I just want to live a state of mind instead of having my life be sculpted into threadiness by a state of mind. Okay, I'll jump through hoops for another piece of paper. It's what I do. But you can't keep me home, can't keep me shut up and waiting. If I'm not studying, I'm going, I'm living. I'll take what I can get from the co-opt. If someone will let me teach because I know Jake, I'll smile and try not to disappoint. But I'm going to struggle against it just like I did at NELP, even if that means struggling against Jake, too. If he forgets, I don't. I know not only how much I hate it and try to avoid it, but how stupid it is.
"You know Jake?" (Well, you must be okay/crazy).
"You idiots, that's a fluke of scheduling or a destiny of which you are nothing more than a side effect. Jake is not my credential." (I am everything I need to be and I have been always and how you make sense of that is your own muddled business).

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