Annecy: a Love Letter to France

I know I haven't been prolific on this thing at all. In fact, since I last posted, several important events have happened in my life. I ran another marathon. I moved to France. I spent 3 seasons on a women's soccer team. Xavier proposed. And we got married. 3 years ago. Plus now I have the world's cutest dog.

As a lot of my friends and family know, France has been a... let's say "varied" adjustment. I didn't speak French when I got here, but now I do. I didn't have a job, but I now have that as well. And for a long while, everything was a blur of counterintuitive and often frustrating experiences. The gears of bureaucracy grind at a maddeningly slow pace. In fact, everything in France seemed to take forever during that first year. If you need something repaired in your apartment, best hope it's not about to imminently destroy everything you own, because nobody is in any great rush to come and sort it out. We've had a leak in our closet for approximately two years and it seems it won't be fixed before we move out. Applying for the simplest things can take ages. A year and a half for a health card. 6 months in advance if I need to go to the prefecture to renew my residence card. Transferring information to the electric company. Buying property. Booking an appointment with a doctor. They can easily take weeks or months. Ironically, about the only thing that isn't painful is subscribing to a phone plan, which, as an American, always blows my mind. So to put yourself in my place, imagine everything you do is like working with your phone or cable provider. That is my life.

The truth is that the French are just not always in a rush to do anything. I had to let go of my ideas of time and accept that things just take a lot of it. Irritating bureaucratic things, but also beautiful and fun things: weddings, vacations, birthdays, parties, meals, and even pre-dinner snacks and drinks that they refer to as "apéro."

Other than time, I had to learn a lot about the many, many contradictions that make up the French mentality. It turned out that they were as conflicted as my own culture, but I wasn't used to it yet. In the beginning, I was so confused about their casual acceptance of their politicians' girlfriends and mistresses.  Things like that destroy careers in the US, but here, they're just met with a shrug.  One might imagine that they are nonchalant about all their relationships, the true embodiment of all our European tropes... taking a drag from a cigarette, a sip of wine, and saying "bah, c'est la vie." However, it took a short time for me to find that the French are, in fact, deeply familial.  There are a million and one little family events that you find yourself caring, or at least pretending to care, about.  All the dinners and anniversaries and birthdays and baptisms for people I've barely even talked to... but it's because they're my family, or they're family of a friend, which is also quite often a thing here.

Their culture is full of little dichotomies like this that I found difficult to understand at first. They don't wave flags or post patriotic images, but watch what happens when it's World Cup time. They don't have to get to work "on time" and God help you if you try to interrupt their breaks or lunches, but somehow they don't miss deadlines. They have some of the best healthcare and access to rights in the world, but studies show that they are deeply dissatisfied. They tell you that France is the greatest country in the world and that they have the best quality of life anywhere, but they complain about their country, as well as every other minute aspect of their lives, constantly. No, I'm not exaggerating.  Complaining is their national sport.  I mean, literally, it even trumps football, which many people might mistakenly think is their national sport.  Their national football team actually refused to play during the World Cup due to some grievances involving the coach and each other.  Grievances?  Another word is complaints.  Yes, during the biggest sporting event in the world, they decided their complaints were too great to overcome, and just refused to get on the pitch.  It was, by and large, the most French thing one could do.  In front of the world.  But don't get them wrong... the average French person was very critical of this decision.

Oh, and the criticism.  I probably shouldn't go too far with that because you would never finish reading, but that was probably the hardest thing to adjust to.  A friend of mine posted an article about the French and their feelings toward a football player.  He was booed whilst entering the stadium for a match, which seemed a bit harsh since he was at one point revered as a hero.  But the journalist's reflection on this was spot on... he said that the French would boo a children's play if they thought it wasn't up to snuff.  Yes, they are perfectionists, sometimes in the most excruciating ways.  Nothing is good enough!  Even if it is excellent, they will find at least one detail that they didn't like, that could have been better.  The flipside is that a lot of things they produce are excellent.  They dress impeccably.  They work incredibly hard, much harder than the rest of the world gives them credit for.  They have very good taste.  They expect the best, but that doesn't just apply to others -- they themselves could always do better.  And if you haven't had a genuine French meal in all its neurotically perfect glory, it is my belief that you haven't truly lived.

I could say more, but I'll stop.

Because this post isn't really about French culture. It's about Annecy.  Or rather, one tiny beach in one tiny city not that far from Annecy.

I spent the past very long weekend with some girlfriends in this area of the French Alps. To give you an idea, this is it on a map.

I don't really know why, but my expectations were mild. Living in Paris does that to you I suppose. You know there will be nice things about the trip, but your mind also goes to the inconveniences. Oh, it's the hottest summer we've had in years. Oh, getting around will be hard without a car. Oh, what if the house isn't very nice? Or we have a crazy neighbor (referring to our ski trip in March).  Oh, and there will also be French people to complain and be neurotic and just generally annoy the bejeezus out of you.

But what I found was unexpected.  Tucked away not 200 meters (yes, I do metric now) from our rental house, was a beach on the lakefront.  I should probably mention first that the woman who rented the place to us had already surprised us with her friendliness.  We always forget that French people are normal and helpful and kind and fun/funny outside of Paris, and that first interaction usually comes as a surprise.  She suggested the place to us, and perplexed us a little with her reaction to our questions about activities nearby.  She didn't seem to think we would need them.  When we went to the beach, it was clear why.

You had to pay to go in (2.50, but you'd be surprised by how many people would be deterred by this), but there were trees for shade, a food stand nearby, steps that led you into a lake, a diving board, and different kinds of pools for all ages.  It was well-worth the money.  We spent day after day on that beach, each one more perfect than the last.  Having grown up on beaches, I spent a lot of time reflecting on why I liked this one so much.  It wasn't any bigger, and not even necessarily more beautiful.  After all, it's hard to compete with the Pacific Ocean at sunset.  But then on Sunday, it hit me all at once: I liked it because it was so French.  Because all those cultural quirks I find so annoying in Paris have the ability to be pleasant and beautiful when they're turned on their side.

The families and family time.  Everywhere we looked, there were people with children, and I started to see the other aspect of family being important for family's sake.  Sometimes they're up and about playing and swimming and jumping in the water (seriously, that diving board was never left alone) but my observation was how good the French are at just being with each other.  They don't necessarily have to be doing an activity, though they love that too.  Often they just talk, they sit and eat, or they do nothing at all, and don't seem to be in any hurry to change that, because that is the point -- to be together, quietly or loudly, as long as possible.  It is deeply refreshing, because their lack of pressure to go somewhere or do something because just being seems like a waste... that feeling, it seeps into your soul.  That feeling that relationships can and should be cultivated without distraction or movement... that feeling is powerful, and makes you want to love the people you're with more.

Lack of fucks given about body image.  This was possibly the only time in my life that I started to feel my insecurities about my "bikini-ready" (or not really, because I love my beer) body melt away.  My dear friend made an interesting declaration... every body is a bikini body -- you will always look better in two pieces than in one.  People may disagree or simply prefer to wear one, but I appreciated the spirit behind it.  No matter where you stand, I will say that the French live up to their reputation about minimal clothing on the beach.  Boobs everywhere.  Young lady boobs, old lady boobs, man boobs.  It probably sounds weird to you if you're American, because we simply don't accept that.  However, when it's everywhere and it's normal and nobody is yelling at each other to put them away, a weird thing happens... it suddenly becomes not a big deal.  No, really.  The disparity between that kind of freedom and American culture was shocking to me.  We're always saying we should cover up because there are children and it might badly influence or confuse some poor adolescent boy.  And of course, because nobody wants to see THAT!  But often, what we really mean is that women whose bodies are less young or fit or beautiful should cover up, because there are far fewer objections to hot women's bodies being thrown all over the place in film or TV, in advertizing, or in music.  Or porn.  Which is everywhere if you have the Internet.  We don't seem to be in a big rush to ask them to cover up to preserve those poor innocent boy brains.  I would say it has something more to do with the idea of "everybody wants to see those hot women, but nobody wants to see Grandma in a bikini."  But I will posit something from my observations... maybe it's a healthy thing to see women as they are.  For men, for children, for me.  Because all those women I saw this weekend are just like me, or fatter, or thinner, or older, or younger, or you name it, but don't feel that they should be ashamed of it.  Before I start to sound sexist, the same principle applies to men... they do love their teeny tiny suits, and I found myself just thinking that they should wear what they are comfortable in, because it had nothing to do with me.  Their lack of shame started to chip away at my own shame.  With every set of bare boobs I saw attached to a woman sitting and sharing a glass of wine with a man who was not making a big deal out of it and was just treating her like a person, I questioned why this was such a big deal in my own culture.  I saw boys of all ages walk by women of all ages, and strangely, they didn't turn into perverts.  And I didn't see evidence that their ideas about sexuality shattered in presence of grandma boobs.  In fact, they didn't even stare, or do a double-take.  They were too busy talking, or having a sandwich, or jumping off the diving board.  It occured to me that, maybe when they're older and start to love someone with boobs in the future, they might not have an outrageous fantasy that they don't sag, that we don't get rounder, that we don't have weird inexplicable shapes and blotches everywhere... because, clearly, all women do.  Go on the beach and see for yourself.  Maybe that wouldn't be such an indecent thing to have back home.

And let's talk about apéro.  Most people are familiar with apértif, but if you aren't, it is essentially pre-dinner drinks and snacks, and it is a huge part of the French dining experience.  If you have dinner at someone's house or share a big meal during a holiday or special occasion, you can expect to spend a long time on apéro.  Sometimes hours.  In some cases, that's most of the meal.  Getting to the meal is not the point of apéro... sharing the time is.  Keep in mind that you can expect to have a large meal after, but the name of the game is quality rather than quantity, and usually you've spent so much time eating at the table that you find yourself hungry again once you get to dinner.  Since this beach was in France, bringing your own food for a picnic was expected, rather than buying it at the snack bar, and alcohol is most certainly allowed.  How can you have apéro without wine, after all?  So as the sun started to go down and the air started to cool, people went and pulled out their supplies for this evening ritual.  In these moments, you see groups of people huddled together, laughing and/or playing with the children, not at all concerned with dinnertime or someone being bored or even bedtime.  Everyone is snacking happily, passing drinks around, and watching the sun go down.  It goes on and on because in the summer it takes a long time for the sun to set, but you don't watch the time, or even think about it.  It's in these moments that the French shine to me, because they are so convivial, so loud and spirited yet without disturbing each other or hushing each other.  They're so connected and satisfied with this moment, with their food and drink, with their surroundings, with each other.  They're so alive.  Alive in ways that I have trouble feeling outside of these moments, when their cultural oddities all collide at once.  And all of it happening by the clean, green-blue water of the lake as the sun sets over the mountains.  That is perfection.

Despite my frustrations and anger from living in Paris, from being an outsider, from language, family, stress, job, responsibilities, it is these moments of vitality that make it all fade away.  It is these moments I feel I've been looking for all my life, that I've spent my adulthood wandering around the planet to find.  As much as I sometimes hate it, it is these moments that being here feels like home.  These moments that make me love myself.  That make me love the people with me.  That make me love France.

What an appropriate feeling to have on Bastille Day.  Vive la France, bitches.

what happens when i mess around

i was playing, and once i'd made one character, i discovered it only took a few minutes to create more! i'm afraid i didn't have time to do everybody i know, but clearly, i had fun.

let's start with me, amidst my traipsing


layce, in london, looking fabulous


nichole. she's about to experience some serious cold.


m-b, catalina style.


ed, doing what he does best.


a.c.


kirsten. if i could have added a baby in here, i would have.


oh, nicole


my brother, an intellectual ninja.


and my favorite... the furious white boy!

tag-action

the bigger mystery is whether or not you're going to believe this stuff.
1. i was run over by a truck and lived to tell about it.
2. i climbed an active volcano in indonesia, and almost froze to death in the process. in the summer. also, i couldn't move for a day afterward.
3. i once gave a speech at a kmt rally in taiwan. in chinese. sort of. plus, i met the guy that later became the president, who probably spoke english better than me. it was not a day of personal greatness.
4. i am uncommonly good at remembering quotes and conversations, especially things i hear on television. i have to restrain myself, because i'm pretty sure i have the capacity to creep people out.
5. i keep realizing that i have now been single for over 2 years. on a very technical, label-dependent level, anyway.
i really don't want to talk about it.
6. i've always thought i had an addiction to pasta, but lately i'm starting to believe it's actually tomatoes. for serious. i eat some form of tomato every day, sometimes more than once, and would probably eat more if i could.
7. 108 hours is the longest i've gone without a shower. this was not so much a choice as it was forced upon me by the russian rail network. and p.s. there is no good way to appear even moderately hygienic after 108 hours on the trans-siberian.

aaron and kirsten choate, nicole, sarah, edward, dano, and myers, you're up. everybody else has already been tagged elsewhere.

96 hours.

think for a second about the past 96 hours of your life. what did you do? go to work? see friends? sleep? cook a nutritious meal? shower?

well, i am telling you right now that i have never quite appreciated the immensity of 96 hours until this past week. that's right, folks. i spent an entire 96 hours on a train from ulaanbatar to moscow WITH NO SHOWER. at first, this seemed like a paltry sum of time, but let me tell you... after about 6 rounds of chess, one ass-whooping in poker (i beat all the boys, p.s.), 2 books, 1 movie, 24 hours on my ipod, pictures, 2 nights of drinking because, seriously, there was NOTHING better to do!, 2 subsequent hangovers, and more junk food than i ever care to remember, 96 hours is, in fact, a significant amount of time.

for a while, i was beginning to think i actually lived on that train.

jumping pictures in front of st. basils and other good things to come later. always.

i said goodbye

today, i thought i was going to make it without crying. i got through k2 barely phased. i hugged them all and told them how much i love them. they're my pride and joy, my legacy, my crown jewel, those k2 kids.

then on to k4, where they sang a song for me and gave me hugs. still nothing.

at lunch, the teachers threw me a party. they each bought me an individual present, though i had to earn it. also, i might add, this party was complete with zhenzhu naicha (my favorite), zhi pie (my other favorite!), cheese cake (my favorite dessert!), and gold watermelon! wow, they know me so well! am i really that transparent? but i still held on.

i had a party with g2, but most of them cried the whole time. i couldn't help but think to myself... this has to be the worst party ever, with all these sobbing children. i cried a little.

then came s4, the mother load. i had planned to simply make some root beer floats with them because they'd find it fun and we'd be silly. but my chinese teacher apparently had a very different idea, as they wouldn't let me in when i went to get some supplies. when they finally opened the door, all my children were lined up with neon bracelets singing "please and thank you, these are the magic words..."
after that, they played "ode to joy" for me on their recorders! no joke!
then we played a game. i'd pick a name out of a bag, they'd all look at it, then i'd have to ask questions to guess who the child was. when i found them, they had to stand up and say something nice to me "thank you, teacher joy..." etc etc. then they reversed it. each child had a piece of the class letter and a number. i had to pick a number. they'd stand, give me the piece, and i'd say something personal to them. i got through most of them all right, but then we got to the ones that i've spent the greater part of my year yelling at. it's a funny thing, that yelling, because they didn't even want me to say something to them... they just started to cry uncontrollably. when this happened, i lost it and found myself sobbing in front of all these kids. apparently, the crying continued long after class was over. i don't know why that broke my heart. i guess they know i love them despite the yelling.

when sad, i find it often works to buy something you don't need

okay, just because i bought myself an ipod nano doesn't mean i'm not sad that chris left today. wow, double-negatives.

it's been about 6 months since my ipod died, and i finally broke down and bought myself a replacement. i figure... i could get 80gb, but i don't bloody need 80gb. come to think of it, nobody needs that much! this thing carries 1,000 songs. i could listen to it all the way from ulaanbatar to moscow and probably still have space leftover. i think i'm set.

today was a little weird. i went to the jade market to pick up my awesome stamp, engraved with my chinese name. i could only stay a short time, though, because all the green almost made me suffer a seizure. bought travel guides. slept. did my laundry. walked around because the sun was out. shopped. bought my nano.

and spent an unusual amount of time laughing.

i said yesterday that i really have nothing to complain about. which is funny, since i spend a lot of time complaining. or maybe reflecting. i don't know! but truthfully, all things have culminated in God putting me right here, and that's bigger than anything i ever imagined for myself.

but seriously, i just laughed today, for a lot of reasons. as a going away present, chris wrote me a letter, crammed with a lot of things, one of them being advice. and one piece of advice in particular about dating. encouragement, if you will. a reminder that i'm really good at selling myself short. as i normally do, i took the things he said and thought about them. sometimes i conclude that he's a jerk and proceed to tell him so, but most of the time, they're just harsh truths. i went online, where little reminders about my past dating choices popped up around me. so i thought about it. about the circumstances and what it did to me and what i became. and i just laughed, because it actually hurt as much as it did at the time. at the absurdity. not that all my choices or the fact that it hurt at the time were absurd. but a few, yes. and that, to me, today, was funny.

remind me to stop selling myself short.

no time! no time!

for months, i've been suffering from severe insomnia. for a while, i thought it was stress or too much caffeine or anticipation. but the days and weeks have come and gone, and nothing's changed.

sometimes, while i lay alone in the dark, i put my hand on my chest, and i can feel my heart racing erratically. "calm down," i tell myself. there's nothing to worry about. yet it beats so wildly that i'm certain i'll die. i try and try to close my eyes, but sleep won't come. i try to write down my thoughts. what's wrong? did i forget something? will i get my life together enough these next few weeks? what if rachel and i don't make it into the program? is it him?

the anxiety weighs on me, even in my dreams. i toss and turn, wishing i could forget about my day, or my exhaustion, or the fact that i don't feel like i'm ready for this summer. wishing that, so long as my eyes are closed and i am, at least physically, sleeping, the anxiety will lift and i will feel free, unburdened, and excited.

my room is a disaster right now, full of half-done things. my half-done visa process. half-packed suitcases. books strewn about, because i've only half-decided to give them to angie and half-resolved myself to keeping them. half-answers on moving out, id cards, and international sims. the fact that this cursed mother's day event is only half-done, and chris' half-completed present occupying my desk and the end of my bed.

i calculated today. i teach 5 classes every morning, and 1 class every afternoon. except, last semester i was teaching 3, so let's average it to 2. i also teach 1 class every night, but that doesn't include when i was carrying double class loads after chad left. according to my calculations, i teach 8 classes a day, 40 classes a week, 160 classes a month, and it seems up to this point, over 1,600 classes this past year. i'd never done the math until now. and each day, like clockwork, i feel pressured to invent some new idea for them, to make learning fun and entertaining, so that they forget that their life of academic misery is only beginning.

and each day, the same things wear on me a little more. i'm very, plainly, completely dry. i've heard the expression "i've got nothing left to give" and i always thought it was an excuse. it's not. sometimes, while standing during the morning's song, i'm certain that i'll pass out right there on the spot, because i'm just drained.

but it's only 6 more weeks.

a very merry un-christmas to you

"hallelujah!"
or so the saying goes.

over the years, i've heard a lot of dissent about christmas in the states; about how it's too capitalistic, too consumer-driven. as a culture, we've been bombarded with story upon story about the true meaning of christmas, which always, in the same trite manner, drills into our minds that we've completely missed the point.

and all this is true.

but now i just want to tell western culture and all the proverbial grinches of my generation to stop bitching.




as an american, the idea of a non-existent christmas has always been unfathomable to me. our entire culture embraces it. from christmas music, to holiday specials, to decorations anywhere and everywhere, to nativity displays, to christmas trees at the mall, to starbucks' red cups, american society whole-heartedly welcomes christmas. in fact, i like it, because, for a short time, everybody is happy. albeit more-than-usually stressed out, but exceptionally jovial.



cut to culture that barely acknowledges christmas' existence. the teachers at my school, in fact, all worked on christmas. we had the option of taking the day off because, from what they understand, christmas is sort of important to us. so we did. and they tried feebly to bring the christmas spirit into school, but nobody understood the decorations or the color schemes or the music or talk of searching for the true meaning or even WHERE SANTA CLAUS COMES FROM! december 25 passed by like any other day here. nobody stopped or said a prayer or took a moment to reflect. they just kept moving, leaving us foreigners paralyzed, immobile, completely destroyed by a holiday spirit famine. christmas was void of all the things that make it so wonderful back home. it's like i'd slept an entire month.

but at least i had the day off. i went to a christmas party with chris and some of his friends on christmas eve, where we played yankee swap with white elephant presents, read the nativity story, and sang christmas carols. and ate mongolian barbecue.
i read cards sent to me by my thoughtful friends back home. i don't think they realize how much a few words lifted my terribly downtrodden spirits here.
i opened presents from my family, full of scarves and gift cards and perfumes and DVD's with all my favorite tv shows, because the only thing for me to watch here is cnn, bbc, or movies with subtitles.
chris and i had a christmas breakfast and exchanged gifts. and while i don't think i'm any good at giving presents, he wasn't exaggerating when he said he was, as my jade bracelet is glorious.
i ate myself into a food coma with rachel and annie on christmas day. we shopped and talked about home and took pictures and soaked up what little holiday spirit could be derived from our environment.


so even if you think christmas is misunderstood, i can honestly testify that it is infinitely better than no christmas at all.

thailand

"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!

"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.

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.

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?.....

the stuff good stories are made of

"in the struggle for survival, the fittest win out at the expense of their rivals"
or so the saying goes.

last weekend, i decided the time had come for me to venture outside taipei. certainly, i'd been to taichung before, but i'd never visited southern taiwan, much less taken a weekend trip since i arrived in june. then fate smiled upon me in the form of other peoples' general restlessness. as chad is leaving in about 3 weeks, he's been really keen on making the most of his last days here. because we celebrated 10/10 last week, he took advantage of the holiday to go to kenting, a beach town very near the southernmost tip of taiwan. he invited chris and me to come along. while chris was busy with mormon stuff this weekend, i thought it would make a good excuse for me to get out of town for a while. though i would be arriving 3 days later, at least i would know someone there to explore/get into mischief with. furthermore, mitch and his friend sam were heading down there for an extended holiday as well, and as the proverb goes, the more the merrier. when i'm involved, however, it is always an adventure. this is a fact i must always establish, assess, and accept every time i leave the house. establish, because i know how things go. assess, mostly monetarily. how much can i afford the mishaps that will undoubtedly come? and accept, because 99% of the situation is how you deal with it. some say it's the law of attraction at play, but i call it mostly blind luck.

i made my way down to kaoschung early saturday morning. well, early is a relative term. actually it was mid-morning, but the cool thing is that taiwan has already established a high speed rail system, which makes a trip across the entire country merely 1.5 hours of relaxation and countryside. i got into kaoschung before noon, hoping to catch a bus to kenting within the hour and get there by the early afternoon. because i had no idea where anything is, i took a cab, who seemed to mostly understand what i was telling him. unfortunately, mostly isn't quite good enough when asking for the bus station, because he took me to the dodgiest bus depot i've ever seen. and i've seen some dodgy bus depots. i got out and cringed a little, wondering how i was ever going to find a way to kenting, when another friendly bus driver who was on break, noticed my apparent befuddlement and asked me if i needed help. his english was minimal, but i managed to convey to him that i wanted to go to kenting.
wo yao qu kenting.
he pointed to what looked like a city bus, and told me that was a good way to get there. great, i thought. my new-found friend then told the city bus driver where i wanted to go, i purchased a ticket, and hesitantly boarded a bus headed toward oblivion. yes, oblivion. i had no idea where it was going or if i was even going the right way.
this might be a good time to note that while it takes you 1.5 hours to get 90% of the way to kenting, it takes approximately 3 to travel the remaining 10%. southern taiwan is nothing like my world in taipei. taipei is lively and busy. the world of southern taiwan is... desolate... void of human occupancy. the bus stopped at non-bus-stops, and people kept getting on and off at random. i planted myself in my chair, and told myself over and over that, no matter where this bus was going, as long as i didn't leave, i wouldn't be lost in the middle of nowhere. even if i ended up back in kaoschung, at least i could find sign of human life there. my 3 hour trip went something like... shack... shack... bus stop... shack... oh, 7-11!... field... mountain... shack. and on and on until we reached the coast. from this point on, it would be a matter of figuring out which sparsely-populated beach civilization was supposed to be kenting, the so-called tourist capital of southern taiwan. furthermore, chad wasn't answering his phone. he knew i would be coming into town, but i heard nothing from him. i resolved myself to the fact that i would have a good time no matter what, even if i was my only company.

finally, my bus driver pulled over to a non-descript bus stop and nodded in my direction. the thicker crowds of people outside and my semi-useful map in lonely planet taiwan seemed to indicate that this was, in fact, kenting. i stepped outside and found my way to the nearest coffee shop, where i pondered my next plan of attack. let's see... chad wasn't answering his phone, i didn't have mitch's number, and i didn't have a place to stay. first priority was figuring out where i could stay, then devising a way to get a hold of my comrades. the luxury of being in reach to teach is that, while i didn't have mitch's contact information, someone else in my phone was bound to. and! i was lucky enough to find that person. unlike chad, whose phone died, mitch answered his phone and told me that they were at a shooting range, but that they would call me when they came back for dinner. that left only the hotel. despite the fact that kenting is in virtually the middle of nowhere, there is a slough of hotels there. surely, one of them would have a place to stay. unfortunately, at the first 20 i tried, i got an unhappy result:
duibuqi, wo yao fangjian. ni you meiyou yi ge?
yi ge fangjian jiu?
dui. wo yao shuijiao.
meiyou!
aiyo!
this went on nearly an hour until one of the hotel owners was kind enough to call some friends and find me an open room. i had a place to stay and i had reached the guys, so i was good. onto the beach! kenting is arguably the most beautiful place i've visited here. the beach was serene and extremely clean. there are no waves here, and it's surprising how peaceful it is when you can barely hear the feeble crashing of the waves on the beach. i had some good music, and paced up and down, in and out of the water for almost 2 hours. the beach made me feel connected once again to california and all the feelings associated with it. for the first time in a while, i felt like myself again. i really must visit the beach more often.

mitch broke the silence when he called, and i made my way over to their hotel, where i found 3 disheveled men... chad the worst of them all. apparently, through an unexpected twist of events in his own schedule, he had come to kenting with only one change of clothes. this had led him to purchase new underwear just that morning and the best shirt ever. it was a muscle tank with a skinny boy on it flexing his muscles. at the bottom it said "i'm number 1!" i could tell he hadn't bothered to shave in days. tired though i was after my day of travel, i was happy to see them all, and they disclosed their plans for the evening. dinner. night market. possibly a club, a pub, or ktv. beach. hookah. not necessarily in that order. those who know me well also know i'm game for anything, so i told them to lead the way. we wandered through the nightmarket, exploring hand-made crafts and unusual clothes, and playing with the idea of a henna tattoo. i still think i'm going to get one, if only to experiment with how exactly i feel about having something marked on my body. our wanderings eventually led to a nearby pub, where we ordered a large hookah and a few pitchers of beer. i had one of the loveliest conversations i've experienced in months that night. starting over is something i need in my life. i give second chances generously, and grasp any opportunity to build from new chances. after hours of conversation at the pub, we made our way back to the boys' room, where mitch and i stayed up all night watching the rugby world cup and the colbert report... chad and sam made it through some, but couldn't muster the willpower to stay awake the whole time. even i faded in and out. i trudged home rather tired around 5:30am, where i slept on a very hard mattress.

the next day brought many adventures. it began with a quiet breakfast and a morning at the beach, a few hours of shopping and exploring, and then an eventual scooter rental. this time, however, i did not crash it. i found a shop, and the proprietor asked me several times if i'd ever driven one before. yes, i said. yes, i'm a foreign woman, but i have driven one. unfortunately, it didn't look very good that i couldn't remember where the brake was, but she hesitantly handed the scooter over, and i got the hang of it quickly. i drove up and down the coast, attempting to understand the arbitrary traffic rules and praying to God that i wouldn't get stranded. when i came back to familiarity, mitch called and asked if i was up for something. i told him i had planned to take another bus ride from hell back to kaoschung in the late afternoon so that i could catch a train back to taipei. well, he said, he and sam were going to stop at the aquarium and then drive back to kaoschung, so i may as well go with them, right? at least i'd have company, and it would be a new experience. i agreed that it sounded like the way to go.

in theory, that is.

we left the aquarium when it closed, hoping to get back to kaoschung in two hours. unfortunately, after a few wrong turns and way too much time at dinner, we did not get back into town until 9:30. we returned our scooters and dawdled back to the train station, only to discover that the last high speed train had left at... 9:30. we were screwed. the next train back to taipei wasn't high speed and wasn't leaving until 11:30. this meant arrival in taipei around 5:30 or 6:00. or we could wait for the next hs train in the morning, but that would bring us into taipei too late, and sam and i wouldn't make it to work on time. this left the bus. a 4 hour ride that couldn't possibly be too hard to secure, right? well, you would think it wouldn't be difficult, but it was. it felt like the entire city wanted a night bus. terrible thoughts kept running through my mind. what if we were stuck here all night? what if we couldn't take the first hstrain out in the morning? what if we were stuck here all day tomorrow as well, and i had to explain my irresponsibility to my boss? how screwed, exactly, would i be? after an hour of searching and being put on waiting lists, i was beginning to lose hope, though i tried to maintain a positive exterior. sam wasn't talking altogether because he didn't want to lose it, and mitch was getting more noticeably frustrated by the second. i tried to laugh it off, but my brain was screaming at me. i was so tired. i'd hardly slept at all the entire weekend, and i would have to be energetic for my kids the nenxt day. finally, when we thought we might not find anything, we found two separate buses. i went by myself, while they waited for the later bus out. i think mitch felt bad, as it was based on his guarantee of speedy transport back to taipei that we arrived in kaoschung so late. needless to say, i didn't get home until about 5a.m. i slept for 2 1/2 hours, then got myself to work. it was a long day, especially since i have chinese on monday nights, but i kept telling myself that i was lucky to make it at all.

and that, my friends, was kenting. i can't wait to go back.



on a topic unrelated in even the most remote way, i think my ipod is dead. i don't know how or why this happened. it simply froze. i'm running out the battery right now, hoping that it might unfreeze it. i really haven't been abusive to this ipod, so i'm baffled as to what happened to it. but it's almost 3 years old and therefore, will have to be replaced in the not-too-distant future. i'm hoping it can't hear me. sometimes i hate technology.

also, i don't normally talk about music here, and it's been a long time since i've said anything, but... well... i really, really love anberlin's semi-new album "cities." i've been following them on and off since i was a freshman in college, and i'm extremely impressed with the quality of their music over the years. what began as merely an attempt to depart from stereotypical mainstream christian music has led to some truly beautiful songwriting. high five, stephen christian.

"i just want to lie on the beach and eat hot dogs. that's all i've ever wanted."

"happy birthday to you."
or so the saying goes.

my birthday came very suddenly this year. unlike so many years before, this one was not wrought with anticipation or big plans for parties, or with excitement over, finally, being able to go out with friends. of not having to get that stupid, obligatory black stamp on my hand every time i saw kindred fall. this year, it's come a lot like my 18th birthday - without notice. i remember turning 18 very vividly. my new friends all bought me small presents, tokens of their new affection, we had dinner and watched a movie together. i remember it being slightly awkward because, after all, we barely knew each other. honestly, i didn't even expect that much, and i remember feeling very grateful that they all thought of me.

this year, i didn't relish the idea of having to plan anything. why stress in a place i still really don't understand and then spend money i don't have? anyway, i'm going to seek satisfaction in having dinner with a few friends tomorrow night. it should be a lovely way to remember that i'm 22 and that all the awesome birthdays are over.

but, of course, no birthday is incomplete without buying yourself a present, right? when i thought about the things i wanted for my birthday, such a decision wasn't easy. taiwan is absolutely overwrought with clothes and accessories, that i simply feel overwhelmed with all the colors and options. i wanted something unique - something very me.

and then it hit me. of course! the perfect thing to give myself for making it 22 years... arguably 4 years longer than i was supposed to. so, my friends, i have a new piercing. it's been about 3 years since my parents warned me against this. to their credit, they got used to the nose piercing, but when i tried a second one, that was met with resistance. their argument was that, after allowing me to slide on the nose, if they were paying tuition, i needed to respect a few of their rules - no tattoos or piercings. given that they allowed me pretty much every other freedom and they didn't pester me with questions about where i went, what i did, or who i dated, i resisted throughout the rest of college. it was a fair requirement and it was simple. after i had my degree, they told me, i was allowed to do what i pleased. so for birthday 22, i put another hole in my left ear. i like it. i think it's tasteful. but it hurts like hell.

hey-o.

easy amusement

"game. set. match."
or so the saying goes.

since thursday, aro and i have been embroiled in a fierce, facebook-supported game of scrabble, thanks to the new application "scrabulous." at our rate of play - i.e. one move per person per day, i expect that it will take at least another week to complete.

but the truly amazing thing is that i'm actually playing scrabble with him on the other side of the ocean, and i have the convenience of making a move whenever it's - well - convenient. i get off work and get a nifty notification in my facebook inbox: aaron humphrey has just made a move in scrabulous. click here to see the board. i play my turn and wait until aro wakes up or gets off work or something of the sort to play his.

who needs physical interaction? also, he doesn't know this, but at one point i had only vowels.

psalm moves me

today, our most precious arlee died. i feel a little as though this really isn't happening. i grieve for her family. and i worry about my mother. arlee was her closest, dearest friend. the truth of the matter is:
we all loved arlee. she was one of my favorite people, because whenever i saw her, she emitted a joyful spirit and always had something nice to say. she's one of those people who made you feel good all the time, because she tried to see the positive in everything. every time i saw arlee, she made me feel as though i was doing something beautiful or profound or important with my life. when i told her how i felt about taiwan and the peace corps... that it all had to do with this idea that has been in the back of my head... this concept of praying without ceasing. this idea that i make more of a difference if i do rather than if i simply be an activist for all the causes in which i believe... she told me that it sounded right to her... it wasn't crazy... and that i should definitely, definitely, definitely stick by it. none of my romantic ideals or abstract agendas or uncertainties or holistic approaches to faith ever seemed absurd when arlee was around... she always made me feel like i was going to do something significant for the kingdom of God. she believed in following the Lord sincerely and whole-heartedly, without pretension or expectation, as best you can and with your entire being. most importantly, she made my mum feel like herself. every day with arlee made my mother see the beauty and glory of God's creation... that we could extract joy from even the simplest elements of God's grandeur. any day that my mum was with arlee was a precious day, and each interaction made her a more complete human, a lover of all that God had made her. in every way, arlee coaxed kindness and beauty from the world around her.

today, even before i found out, while i stood watch for chris' crazy neighbor while he packed his clothes, i felt compelled to read psalm 91. for some reason, these were words i felt i needed to experience today.
He who dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress; Mmy God, in Him I will trust." Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the perilous pestilence. He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge; His truth shall be your shield and buckler. You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day, nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near you. Only with your eyes shall you look, and see the reward of the wicked. Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge, even the Most High, your dwelling place, no evil shall befall you, nor shall any plague come near your dwelling; for He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra, the young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot. Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high because he has known My name. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and humor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation.

i suppose my heart rings true for you, red, white and blue

"home is where the heart is."
or so the saying goes.

in one week, i've lost all concept of time. i honestly did not believe that i would be perturbed about living in taiwan for the 4th of july. i have never been out of the country on independence day before. never.

today, i reflected on last year. i refer to it as the best day of my life. everything about it was simply perfect. soccer, the beach, coffee, mason jennings, fireworks, mexican food, and a really late night.

today, i taught my first classes and ate dumplings with teacher chris at the restaurant around the corner from where i live. not the same thing.

but he did lift my spirits. i try to maintain the attitude that we are all citizens of the world. we are all God's craftsmanship, His handiwork. His love for me knows no bounds, and His love for others knows no bounds. as one of many partakers in His image, i should want to know His glory in others ways. pray without ceasing, as He said. i believe that such prayer is in the form of doing. in the form of rejoicing in His glory through the many avenues of His creativity. and that includes other people. shouldn't i try to explore that? we have global, universal responsibilities to each other. this is why i'm here, i keep telling myself. if i honestly have such a philosophy, i have to make an effort to understand other people.

i find it funny, however, that every time i've been abroad, it has only reinforced my patriotism. not because i think my country is better. it's just different. but because america offers me a sense of belonging that i can't find anywhere else. it is one of the few things i feel i can understand, a place where i can simply be. i never spend a day in america feeling that i don't belong. certainly, i yearn for and enjoy being in other places, but in america, i simply am. it's like a pair of pajamas. i love other countries as i love my madden shoes or that fabulous dress i bought at h&m. but when i put on my pajamas, they are never, ever uncomfortable. i never feel that they simply aren't working for me. they allow me to be. and while i want to explore as many aspects of God's grand story as possible, want to promote the cooperation of culture, i will always, undoubtedly, be american.

it's 11:21

"logic is the art of going wrong with confidence."
or so the saying goes.

and i'm seriously going on 19 hours of alertness/coherence. i'd go to sleep, but i'm afraid i'll wake up without my shit.

now, good travelers, you would think that the los angeles airport would be semi-dead at this hour. after all, it is a tuesday night and it is nearly midnight. but oh no. in actuality, my friends, it is its own private hell. it's hot, it's stuffy, it's loud, and i am squished into a tiny corner of the airport because, high five(!), i managed to find an open outlet. also, because i couldn't find an open seat next to my gate. we don't board for another hour and a half, so i thought i'd make the most of the money i spent on t-mobile access earlier today.

and i'm mildly amused watching people run to make their flights. you'd be surprised that some can move as fast as they do. also, one would think that it's logical that, if gates are numbered 101-123, 101 would be first. nay, my friends. 101 is on the other side of the terminal, and 123 is the most accessible gate. i hate you, lax.

long gone are the days of sitting in dead silence as i wait for my ryanair/easyjet flight to board.

the panic attacks have subsided for the time being.






on a serious note, i want to ask you all for some prayer. i found out today that my mom's best friend has pancreatic cancer. while she is a believer, it pains us all to see her this way. she's a lovely person... one of my favorite people, in fact. and while we all know the Lord is in control, my heart breaks for her family and for my mother. this is bad, you guys. please be in prayer for her. while this situation seems dire, we are trying to keep in mind that God works outside of time and space. in his infinitude and grace, i am reminded that nothing is impossible and nothing is beyond Him. nothing. not even cancer.

you don't bring me flowers anymore.

"what is a friend? a single soul dwelling in two bodies."
or so the saying goes.

wow, i really hate that song. and yet, tragically, i have it stuck in my head and am now immortalizing it on cyberspace, potentially to complete strangers or people who might have weird fetishes with that song. oh, mental image... abort, abort, abort. why it is in my head, one can only speculate. all day, it has been filled with good-slash-healthy music like mason jennings, u2, and ella fitzgerald, only to revert to this during my bimonthly blog post. my neglected blog is indeed a scarce glimpse into the many, many voices in my head, and it's unfortunate - nay - catastrophic that these are the voices with which my readers(?) are left. perhaps i'm doing this because of the many years of growing up on barbara streisand and neil diamond. oh, young joy, why didn't anybody rescue you then? such a funny and unpredictable place, this world. nevertheless, i can't help but think that this does, perhaps, explain a lot. in addition, it may actually be the reason for my current singleness. yikes.

moving on.

for those who have never heard this song before, it is, more or less, about saying goodbye. that's the short version, anyway. i think it's in my head because the past month has been a process of closing a huge chapter of my life. in the past 37 days, i have: accepted/been accepted to a job, gone through commencement at chapman, said a very painful goodbye to my best friend, driven to the taiwanese consulate in santa monica not once, not twice, but THREE times to get my visa, quit my job, moved out of my house, had a garage sale, given away my furniture, sold my car, given away 1/3 of my wardrobe, gotten 4 separate vaccinations (also, i waited 3 hours for typhoid... which was oral, by the way... and took a total of 10 seconds to explain), gone to the dentist and had a tooth drilled and filled (also my first experience with novocaine, and it's not an attractive look for me), attempted to understand a little mandarin, said goodbye to my friends, researched and bought a plane ticket, done the father's day thing, celebrated my mom's birthday, cleared out every cabinet in the kitchen, and donated nearly 75 lbs of food. in all, it's been a long/short month. also, i'm baffled as to how i managed to pack for england before. it was so much harder this time. i'm a bit tired.

last saturday, a.c. threw me a going away soiree at la casita de limon. i'm so grateful that he did it for me, because i wanted closure on my college years, but severely lacked the energy to do it myself. i'd resolved to only spend time with those who called and wanted to see me. when he offered to organize this for me, he stressed the importance of support, and told me that he wanted to give everyone a chance to express that they're behind me in my decision. it was so encouraging to see my friends and to know that they would miss me. it made me more excited about moving on, though i am sorry that i won't see him and kirsten get married this fall. it was lovely to see people from my various years of school, and made me further appreciate the impact they have all had on my life. it was unique, too, for me to see a range from those i've known since the day i got to chapman to those i've only known since i graduated in january. they shared their favorite stories about me, re-told the truck story all over again, and passed pictures around. chapman was a truly extraordinary time in my life and introduced me to unwaveringly supportive friends. we've had our rough patches, but they have come through in even the most difficult and unexpected ways. in my most cynical moments, they have managed to slowly restore the hopelessly broken pieces of my heart. saturday was just another affirmation of how blessed i am.

not gonna lie, chapman, i had a few hard years in there. but i firmly believe that these were the best, most constructive years of my life. i've slowly overcome my darkest fears - my overwhelming and almost insatiable fear of being alone. my fear of what others might think. my fear of alienating people. my crippling acceptance of who others tell me i am or who i should be. and the shattered pieces of my heart that have been produced by unhealthy relationships or the many, many mistakes i've made have become insignificant, the proverbial pieces of dry and dead skin i've shed. i've stopped trying to reattach it and am learning to embrace the new, albeit different and uncomfortable skin underneath.




my flight leaves tonight. i think i'm ready.

i'm gonna miss you, like i miss the ocean when i go to sleep, man it's gonna break my heart - mason jennings

"the first cut is the deepest."
or so the saying goes.

today's predominant topic of conversation was a reflection of the difficulty of finding truly faithful people. nobody's perfect, but i've realized how much i've come to accept a second-string role. not that acceptance doesn't frustrate me at times. i'm simply well-acquainted with the concept of other people getting picked over me. i think i can be a good friend, but i do realize that i become increasingly apathetic when i start to notice a few patterns. things like: not getting a phone call, making plans and having them broken for other people (unless it's the queen of england, this really shouldn't happen, and even then, you might want to ask if your friend can come along), consistently having others picked before me, or general boredom. yes, even in college, it turns out that some social constructs really never change.

my mom always used to tell me that i should feel lucky if i can find one truly faithful person who will always, no matter what, pick me first. she said a good way to conceptualize this is to imagine every person i know has won an amazing, all-expense paid trip to hawaii, but can only take one person. who do i think they'd pick? if i think it would be me, there's my answer. the disheartening truth is, however, that one of those people is moving away in about two weeks. i've said it once, twice, a dozen times, and i'll reiterate: i'm absolutely not okay with it. i'm going to feel a profound void when she's gone. she's my ally. my solution for today, however, is to live in denial.

i've usually been an advocate of many chances. and i know as well as anyone that nobody's perfect. but i'm finding that as school begins to fade away, i need to be more selective about some of the people in my life. not selective about who i should treat with kindness. that's everyone. or about who i should see, because i will see or spend time with a variety of people. but about who i feel is worth my genuine effort. about what i say. and about surrounding myself with people who encourage, edify, and challenge me. those people are difficult to find, but they are worth more than 10 of those who make me feel anxious or insecure.