"has the jury reached a verdict?"
or so the saying goes.
yes, in fact it has.
i'm going to thailand for chinese new year. this is mostly because i managed to find a travel buddy (from chinese class!!). mom can now breathe easy that i'll have someone with me.
and also, i found a really good/cheap flight. it's expensive to fly over chinese new year! my buddy and i decided that japan and korea are too cold, sydney is too far, expensive, and western, and india... well... india probably deserves more than one week.
anyway, she's been to thailand before, but said that she would go again in an instant. and chad has been to thailand twice. a place must be pretty cool if people would go back when they have (very) limited vacations.
get psyched man get psyched man!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
"so then he was all 'i love you' and i was like, 'please...'"
"count your blessings."
or so the saying goes.
i couldn't think of a title, so i wrote this. because chris and i are clever/bored/immature, we find it amusing to write captions on handouts we get at work and school. we then share said captions with each other and have a laugh about it... i like to think it keeps us from imploding. anyway, this was his caption from my workshop. i still think mine from last week was better.
though i spend most of my days as a teacher at least mildly stressed out, i've come to realize that i'm so very happy here in taiwan.
once in a while, i have a devastatingly long week here. sometimes it's due to a bad class or sometimes we just have a lot to do, but this week was one of them. i had the sounds and letters competition, report cards, MY workshop, kindergarten handbook, and a final exam in chinese all in one week. i'm a bit tired.
while you could see the effects of my stress on my face, i've gotten better at managing it. i think this is because i'm learning to dwell less on those things which wear me thin and more on things which make me happy. this week's blessings include:
1. a warm sweater
2. fresh fruit
3. guotie
4. not failing my final, despite having not studied
5. kicking ass at my workshop, thus affirming my awesomeness
6. not kicking ass during g3, thus tearing down said awesomeness
7. chris (the less nar-nar version)
8. & julien
9. christmas music
10. k1
11. peanut butter and chocolate sandwiches
12. yellow watermelon
13. tonight
14. coffee
15. talking to layce
16. rain
17. just discovering that aro's coming to visit
count your blessings.
or so the saying goes.
i couldn't think of a title, so i wrote this. because chris and i are clever/bored/immature, we find it amusing to write captions on handouts we get at work and school. we then share said captions with each other and have a laugh about it... i like to think it keeps us from imploding. anyway, this was his caption from my workshop. i still think mine from last week was better.
though i spend most of my days as a teacher at least mildly stressed out, i've come to realize that i'm so very happy here in taiwan.
once in a while, i have a devastatingly long week here. sometimes it's due to a bad class or sometimes we just have a lot to do, but this week was one of them. i had the sounds and letters competition, report cards, MY workshop, kindergarten handbook, and a final exam in chinese all in one week. i'm a bit tired.
while you could see the effects of my stress on my face, i've gotten better at managing it. i think this is because i'm learning to dwell less on those things which wear me thin and more on things which make me happy. this week's blessings include:
1. a warm sweater
2. fresh fruit
3. guotie
4. not failing my final, despite having not studied
5. kicking ass at my workshop, thus affirming my awesomeness
6. not kicking ass during g3, thus tearing down said awesomeness
7. chris (the less nar-nar version)
8. & julien
9. christmas music
10. k1
11. peanut butter and chocolate sandwiches
12. yellow watermelon
13. tonight
14. coffee
15. talking to layce
16. rain
17. just discovering that aro's coming to visit
count your blessings.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
i haven't decided
"honesty is the best policy."
or so the saying goes.
i remembered a song i used to listen to in college. and it's a bit trite, but i've seen a lot of truth in it over the years:
i was thinking just the other day
some things are better left undone
some battles better left un-won
some sad songs better left unsung
some fires are better left unfed
some pages better left unread
some words are better left unsaid
-mxpx, unsaid
it's simple, really. if you never say anything, you don't run the risk of feeling foolish.
the interesting thing is that inconvenient honesty seems to compel me to other things. it seems to open my eyes to unexpected aspects of my life that are otherwise ignored.
the past year has been a large lesson in learning not to complain. in building faith through patience. i'm hoping that my pained and awkward honesty produces useful realizations.
or so the saying goes.
i remembered a song i used to listen to in college. and it's a bit trite, but i've seen a lot of truth in it over the years:
i was thinking just the other day
some things are better left undone
some battles better left un-won
some sad songs better left unsung
some fires are better left unfed
some pages better left unread
some words are better left unsaid
-mxpx, unsaid
it's simple, really. if you never say anything, you don't run the risk of feeling foolish.
the interesting thing is that inconvenient honesty seems to compel me to other things. it seems to open my eyes to unexpected aspects of my life that are otherwise ignored.
the past year has been a large lesson in learning not to complain. in building faith through patience. i'm hoping that my pained and awkward honesty produces useful realizations.
Monday, November 19, 2007
almost. part deux.
"when in doubt, don't."
or so the saying goes.
have you ever heard the expression "word vomit?" if you haven't, it's possible that it's not nearly as popular as i seem to think it is right now. or maybe you should just take some time out to watch "mean girls" to get a better understanding. and while lindsay lohan is on the fringe of what might biologically constitute "human," i do love that film.
there's a scene in which lindsay's character can't seem to hold in the truth about the queen "mean girl." she describes her explosion of truth as "word vomit." and then later in the film, it happens again, only she literally vomits. okay, so she was supposed to be drunk, but you get the idea.
i never really understood the expression. it never really made sense to me how one just couldn't stop oneself from saying something. as far as i could tell, there's nothing physical about it. it's simple mind over matter. that was until today. never, ever have i actually been so compelled to say something that i truly felt as though i'd vomit. i actually had to take a second or two. a moment to stop my brain from racing uncontrollably. i'm not sure when, exactly, i became this afraid of saying what i think. it's simple, straightforward to do so. yet i feel the need to swallow it.
almost.
or so the saying goes.
have you ever heard the expression "word vomit?" if you haven't, it's possible that it's not nearly as popular as i seem to think it is right now. or maybe you should just take some time out to watch "mean girls" to get a better understanding. and while lindsay lohan is on the fringe of what might biologically constitute "human," i do love that film.
there's a scene in which lindsay's character can't seem to hold in the truth about the queen "mean girl." she describes her explosion of truth as "word vomit." and then later in the film, it happens again, only she literally vomits. okay, so she was supposed to be drunk, but you get the idea.
i never really understood the expression. it never really made sense to me how one just couldn't stop oneself from saying something. as far as i could tell, there's nothing physical about it. it's simple mind over matter. that was until today. never, ever have i actually been so compelled to say something that i truly felt as though i'd vomit. i actually had to take a second or two. a moment to stop my brain from racing uncontrollably. i'm not sure when, exactly, i became this afraid of saying what i think. it's simple, straightforward to do so. yet i feel the need to swallow it.
almost.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
almost.
"what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."
or so the saying goes.
i somehow convinced chris to take the scooter to chinese class last night. despite our incomplete knowledge of taipei above ground, and despite our uncertainty of which roads, exactly, we're allowed to take on a scooter, we didn't die. i thought we might when he unknowingly cruised onto the renai roundabout. apparently, he thought i jumped off the scooter when i saw the car coming straight for us, but no. just a little scared, that's all.
i get better and then i get worse. it's been almost 4 years since that accident, and like clockwork, i feel worse when the seasons change. summer goes well, but winter comes and my back seizes up once again. i go for massages periodically. i find that they help, but it's only temporary. the doctor has always told me to be active. keep stretching. and i am active, but my flexibility is so bad i can't even touch my toes.
it makes me angry, on occasion, that it was all so avoidable. to know that i could be 22 and not have a persistent, lingering pain in my back. on the whole, i try not to dwell on it too much. i try to ignore it. push through it. i try not to let it bother me. because that's how i deal. but it's frustrating to know that it's just there. that i have two options... let it bother me or ignore it. i choose the latter because i only have one life.
am i an ingrate for feeling this way? i'm lucky to be alive. i'm lucky to be as well as i am. but it makes me angry that i have to drag this around with me everywhere. and angrier when i think about some of the things the lawyers have said to me over the years. i think "amusing" was the exact word. amusing because he, a man twice my age and twice my weight, had thrown his back out before and failed to see how my situation was any different. oh, how i seethed that day. i wanted to scream, and sometimes i still do. i wanted to tell him that if he felt that way, surely he wouldn't object to me putting his own daughter under the truck so that she could feel exactly how i did. no more, no less. after all, it was "amusing," wasn't it? if it was so amusing, surely he would maintain the same sense of humor? oh, that wouldn't be funny, mr. lawyer? then why would you say that to me? are you soul-less?
i've realized that i rarely talk about it. i don't want to complain. but it's worse than i let on. some days are better and others are worse. i know part of the reason "amusing" was the word is because i keep going. because it doesn't seem apparent in my life. that's just me, i want to say to them all. that's just what i do. i keep going. it's my method. i force myself to keep moving through all the undesirable events in my life. my job(s), depression, homesickness, a break-up, school, moving away... all of it. if i could, i would tell them all that i don't say anything because complaining incessantly is for the faint of heart... it doesn't help anything. whining and saying i can't i can't i can't is for those who let life get to them too much. and i would ask them if any aspect of my life displays faint-heartedness. i'm not a girly-girl. i'm not and have never been delicate. i'm not a girl who likes to admit she needs anyone. i'm a trouble-shooter. a survivor. a fighter. and yet, it seems, to be this way makes my pain "amusing."
this was never meant to be this long. but like i said, it's been almost 4 years coming.
or so the saying goes.
i somehow convinced chris to take the scooter to chinese class last night. despite our incomplete knowledge of taipei above ground, and despite our uncertainty of which roads, exactly, we're allowed to take on a scooter, we didn't die. i thought we might when he unknowingly cruised onto the renai roundabout. apparently, he thought i jumped off the scooter when i saw the car coming straight for us, but no. just a little scared, that's all.
i get better and then i get worse. it's been almost 4 years since that accident, and like clockwork, i feel worse when the seasons change. summer goes well, but winter comes and my back seizes up once again. i go for massages periodically. i find that they help, but it's only temporary. the doctor has always told me to be active. keep stretching. and i am active, but my flexibility is so bad i can't even touch my toes.
it makes me angry, on occasion, that it was all so avoidable. to know that i could be 22 and not have a persistent, lingering pain in my back. on the whole, i try not to dwell on it too much. i try to ignore it. push through it. i try not to let it bother me. because that's how i deal. but it's frustrating to know that it's just there. that i have two options... let it bother me or ignore it. i choose the latter because i only have one life.
am i an ingrate for feeling this way? i'm lucky to be alive. i'm lucky to be as well as i am. but it makes me angry that i have to drag this around with me everywhere. and angrier when i think about some of the things the lawyers have said to me over the years. i think "amusing" was the exact word. amusing because he, a man twice my age and twice my weight, had thrown his back out before and failed to see how my situation was any different. oh, how i seethed that day. i wanted to scream, and sometimes i still do. i wanted to tell him that if he felt that way, surely he wouldn't object to me putting his own daughter under the truck so that she could feel exactly how i did. no more, no less. after all, it was "amusing," wasn't it? if it was so amusing, surely he would maintain the same sense of humor? oh, that wouldn't be funny, mr. lawyer? then why would you say that to me? are you soul-less?
i've realized that i rarely talk about it. i don't want to complain. but it's worse than i let on. some days are better and others are worse. i know part of the reason "amusing" was the word is because i keep going. because it doesn't seem apparent in my life. that's just me, i want to say to them all. that's just what i do. i keep going. it's my method. i force myself to keep moving through all the undesirable events in my life. my job(s), depression, homesickness, a break-up, school, moving away... all of it. if i could, i would tell them all that i don't say anything because complaining incessantly is for the faint of heart... it doesn't help anything. whining and saying i can't i can't i can't is for those who let life get to them too much. and i would ask them if any aspect of my life displays faint-heartedness. i'm not a girly-girl. i'm not and have never been delicate. i'm not a girl who likes to admit she needs anyone. i'm a trouble-shooter. a survivor. a fighter. and yet, it seems, to be this way makes my pain "amusing."
this was never meant to be this long. but like i said, it's been almost 4 years coming.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
advice needed!
"better late than never."
or so the saying goes.
chinese new year is coming up! i get about 10 days off, which means it's absolutely necessary for me to take a trip. they don't give us many vacations here, and it's difficult to get out of taiwan for very long. so i need all you to give me some advice on where i should go.
if it were you, where would you go? here are my options. what do you think?
1. bangkok (or phuket), thailand
2. tokyo, japan
3. sydney, australia
4. dehli, india
5. seoul, south korea
i've decided against china and the philippines, because i can go to these places rather cheaply over a long weekend.
i don't have a great deal of interest in malaysia, cambodia, or vietnam, though i'm willing to entertain the possibilities. and i've already been to indonesia.
so if it were you, what would it be?
or so the saying goes.
chinese new year is coming up! i get about 10 days off, which means it's absolutely necessary for me to take a trip. they don't give us many vacations here, and it's difficult to get out of taiwan for very long. so i need all you to give me some advice on where i should go.
if it were you, where would you go? here are my options. what do you think?
1. bangkok (or phuket), thailand
2. tokyo, japan
3. sydney, australia
4. dehli, india
5. seoul, south korea
i've decided against china and the philippines, because i can go to these places rather cheaply over a long weekend.
i don't have a great deal of interest in malaysia, cambodia, or vietnam, though i'm willing to entertain the possibilities. and i've already been to indonesia.
so if it were you, what would it be?
of all the things...
"all you need is love."
or so the saying goes.
i'm not a weeper.
anymore.
i would say that i never have been, but as i think about it, this isn't true. i cried enough to nearly drive my parents to insanity as a toddler. i spent an entire summer and then some crying when i came back from england. partially because i wasn't in england anymore, but mostly over boys. that was a lot of reshaping, and i think crying was the only way i knew how to release whatever confusion or frustration i was feeling.
but when ivan and i broke up 13... almost 14 months ago (wow, it's been that long?), i think i flipped a switch inside myself. i spent exactly one day crying over it, and never did again. in fact, i didn't even cry when i got a little bruised by recklessness during semester that followed. again, boys were involved. sure, i got my feelings hurt, but nothing that ever drove me to tears. then i cried... i mean, really cried... the day layce left. and again when arlee passed away.
but i sold or gave away everything i owned back in the states, said goodbye to everyone i loved, and missed aaron and kirsten's wedding and still didn't shed a tear. i even thought i would get a little misty when chad left (rinjani + 10 hours a day, 5 days a week might do that to a person), but nothing.
so why did i cry today over something so silly? thanks to the glories of technology, i've been able to stay in close contact with a good number of my friends back home. e-mail, text messaging, skype, facebook, blogging... i still feel close to them even when i'm so far away. this and the fact that i was so ready to be away have made adjusting to taiwan extremely easy. no need to cry, because my friends are just a skype call away, right? today, when i logged onto myspace to check some messages, i discovered an e-mail from matt. anyway, it was simple: "seriously, i miss you so much. come back." him being a man of few words in general, and even fewer words that aren't teeming with sarcasm, this was a surprise to me. and what surprised me even more was that i got all choked up and started to cry a little.
yeah, what?
he's always told me that one of the beauties of our relationship is that he can say anything to me, for no other reason than because i'm joy. over the years, the honesty has been helpful, especially since he simultaneously drives me crazy and provokes an unnatural (like spending 24 hours with k1 students and not yelling at them unnatural) amount of patience from me. and vice versa, i think.
that was a rabbit trail, but i think the reason i'm saying all this is because his comment and my reaction represent how much i miss the honesty of my friendships back in california. i lived an emotionally reckless existence back home. i wore my heart on my sleeve, never afraid to tell people that i loved them or what i thought. yes, i can tell matt anything and not worry about what it'll do to either of us, but i feel the same way about many people back home. they're the kind of relationships that allow me to be vulnerable and protected at the same time. the kind that made me feel absolutely comfortable with being myself from day one. the reason why college was such a beautiful experience... because i didn't feel like i was pretending, not even from the very first day i spent in orange. i have always felt that my friends, my true, lasting friends, have had my very best interest at heart.
despite being very happy in taiwan, i've found myself to be especially guarded. i keep things to myself that i normally wouldn't, because i'm afraid, very afraid, of revealing what i really think to anyone. i make jokes. a lot. or i say nothing. my capacity for being closed off surprised me most a few weekends ago. i noticed that i was actually trying to keep others outside my "self" bubble. and my commitment to doing so seems to know no limits. if i feel exposed, i throw out sarcasm or irony or disdain as a shield. i, joy, someone who always made it a point to be fiercely open and honest, found myself recoiling. and then i thought about it, and i've been doing it for a few months now. and i've realized that most of the things i say or do are simply incomplete. a half-hearted version of myself, because, for some reason, i think i'm just too afraid. that's so silly, but it's as if i've had a taste of what it feels like to play my cards close to the chest, and now i'm addicted to my half "self." as if i simply hope to protect myself, from what, i'm not exactly sure. but the idea of being anything else doesn't feel like an option right now. oh man, it's like being in 8th grade all over again.
and thanks to my shields, i'm definitely not a weeper.
anymore.
not gonna lie, the power feels pretty good.
.......but i much prefer the vulnerability. how do i go about trusting people enough to get it back?.....
or so the saying goes.
i'm not a weeper.
anymore.
i would say that i never have been, but as i think about it, this isn't true. i cried enough to nearly drive my parents to insanity as a toddler. i spent an entire summer and then some crying when i came back from england. partially because i wasn't in england anymore, but mostly over boys. that was a lot of reshaping, and i think crying was the only way i knew how to release whatever confusion or frustration i was feeling.
but when ivan and i broke up 13... almost 14 months ago (wow, it's been that long?), i think i flipped a switch inside myself. i spent exactly one day crying over it, and never did again. in fact, i didn't even cry when i got a little bruised by recklessness during semester that followed. again, boys were involved. sure, i got my feelings hurt, but nothing that ever drove me to tears. then i cried... i mean, really cried... the day layce left. and again when arlee passed away.
but i sold or gave away everything i owned back in the states, said goodbye to everyone i loved, and missed aaron and kirsten's wedding and still didn't shed a tear. i even thought i would get a little misty when chad left (rinjani + 10 hours a day, 5 days a week might do that to a person), but nothing.
so why did i cry today over something so silly? thanks to the glories of technology, i've been able to stay in close contact with a good number of my friends back home. e-mail, text messaging, skype, facebook, blogging... i still feel close to them even when i'm so far away. this and the fact that i was so ready to be away have made adjusting to taiwan extremely easy. no need to cry, because my friends are just a skype call away, right? today, when i logged onto myspace to check some messages, i discovered an e-mail from matt. anyway, it was simple: "seriously, i miss you so much. come back." him being a man of few words in general, and even fewer words that aren't teeming with sarcasm, this was a surprise to me. and what surprised me even more was that i got all choked up and started to cry a little.
yeah, what?
he's always told me that one of the beauties of our relationship is that he can say anything to me, for no other reason than because i'm joy. over the years, the honesty has been helpful, especially since he simultaneously drives me crazy and provokes an unnatural (like spending 24 hours with k1 students and not yelling at them unnatural) amount of patience from me. and vice versa, i think.
that was a rabbit trail, but i think the reason i'm saying all this is because his comment and my reaction represent how much i miss the honesty of my friendships back in california. i lived an emotionally reckless existence back home. i wore my heart on my sleeve, never afraid to tell people that i loved them or what i thought. yes, i can tell matt anything and not worry about what it'll do to either of us, but i feel the same way about many people back home. they're the kind of relationships that allow me to be vulnerable and protected at the same time. the kind that made me feel absolutely comfortable with being myself from day one. the reason why college was such a beautiful experience... because i didn't feel like i was pretending, not even from the very first day i spent in orange. i have always felt that my friends, my true, lasting friends, have had my very best interest at heart.
despite being very happy in taiwan, i've found myself to be especially guarded. i keep things to myself that i normally wouldn't, because i'm afraid, very afraid, of revealing what i really think to anyone. i make jokes. a lot. or i say nothing. my capacity for being closed off surprised me most a few weekends ago. i noticed that i was actually trying to keep others outside my "self" bubble. and my commitment to doing so seems to know no limits. if i feel exposed, i throw out sarcasm or irony or disdain as a shield. i, joy, someone who always made it a point to be fiercely open and honest, found myself recoiling. and then i thought about it, and i've been doing it for a few months now. and i've realized that most of the things i say or do are simply incomplete. a half-hearted version of myself, because, for some reason, i think i'm just too afraid. that's so silly, but it's as if i've had a taste of what it feels like to play my cards close to the chest, and now i'm addicted to my half "self." as if i simply hope to protect myself, from what, i'm not exactly sure. but the idea of being anything else doesn't feel like an option right now. oh man, it's like being in 8th grade all over again.
and thanks to my shields, i'm definitely not a weeper.
anymore.
not gonna lie, the power feels pretty good.
.......but i much prefer the vulnerability. how do i go about trusting people enough to get it back?.....
Sunday, November 04, 2007
there are aspects...
"this is the day that the Lord has made"
or so the saying goes.
that i truly, deeply miss about my home in temecula. not just california, and not just temecula, but my actual house - the back yard specifically. i strongly believe that every great childhood requires a great back yard. far too many children are without one here. this is probably because they spend 13 hours of the day in school.
i was thinking today about how i've been living the past 4 months with no moments of silence. one can always here people, cars, the whirring of fans, the tinkling of store door bells, the murmur of conversation wherever one goes. it's difficult to block out the white noise, though i've tried. and i realize how very much i miss spring mornings in that house. when i have gotten up early enough there, i have experienced mornings when time actually seemed to stop. when i can't hear traffic or people, because everyone's still asleep, and i can't hear the main roads when so few cars are on them. the windows in our kitchen face directly at a hill over which, if you catch it on a clear morning, has a perfect and breathtaking sunrise. the light slowly peeps over the hills and bounces off the trees, the flowers, and the quiet homes on the other side of the gully separating our house from the rest of meadowview. the air still has a piercing cold bite to it, but the coffee forces the cold to the surface of my body. the cold air and mist around me softly kisses my hands and face. the sunshine slowly melts the cold away, and illuminates the dew on the grass, leaving before me a glistening carpet of deep green. the kind of green that makes me think of more than freshness or my favorite sweater or of eyes. but a profound green, which almost lures me into resolving myself to only eating organic and inherently useful things. of never looking at anything processed or metallic again. and as the sun slowly metamorphoses from a faint pink to a bolder blue, i start to awaken from my trance and think about my day and my responsibilities.
many a time have i thought, especially as i've gotten older, about the stillness of those mornings. here, i long for those mornings. for the taste of the coffee, for the warmth of a soft sweater wrapped around me. i long for the ability to be still in those moments. to just be, and to know that He is. how i long for them. i think that when i return, i will make it a point to have a first morning just like that.
or so the saying goes.
that i truly, deeply miss about my home in temecula. not just california, and not just temecula, but my actual house - the back yard specifically. i strongly believe that every great childhood requires a great back yard. far too many children are without one here. this is probably because they spend 13 hours of the day in school.
i was thinking today about how i've been living the past 4 months with no moments of silence. one can always here people, cars, the whirring of fans, the tinkling of store door bells, the murmur of conversation wherever one goes. it's difficult to block out the white noise, though i've tried. and i realize how very much i miss spring mornings in that house. when i have gotten up early enough there, i have experienced mornings when time actually seemed to stop. when i can't hear traffic or people, because everyone's still asleep, and i can't hear the main roads when so few cars are on them. the windows in our kitchen face directly at a hill over which, if you catch it on a clear morning, has a perfect and breathtaking sunrise. the light slowly peeps over the hills and bounces off the trees, the flowers, and the quiet homes on the other side of the gully separating our house from the rest of meadowview. the air still has a piercing cold bite to it, but the coffee forces the cold to the surface of my body. the cold air and mist around me softly kisses my hands and face. the sunshine slowly melts the cold away, and illuminates the dew on the grass, leaving before me a glistening carpet of deep green. the kind of green that makes me think of more than freshness or my favorite sweater or of eyes. but a profound green, which almost lures me into resolving myself to only eating organic and inherently useful things. of never looking at anything processed or metallic again. and as the sun slowly metamorphoses from a faint pink to a bolder blue, i start to awaken from my trance and think about my day and my responsibilities.
many a time have i thought, especially as i've gotten older, about the stillness of those mornings. here, i long for those mornings. for the taste of the coffee, for the warmth of a soft sweater wrapped around me. i long for the ability to be still in those moments. to just be, and to know that He is. how i long for them. i think that when i return, i will make it a point to have a first morning just like that.
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