i have a confession. i love... no... love american holidays. i think that they are the best holidays ever. nothing makes me miss home like missing a good, old-fashioned american tradition. in fact, i can tell you a number of sad, lonely tales about what i did on my favorite holidays of the year.
for example, last fourth of july, i spent the day exploring st. petersburg, and the night waiting in a station for the longest and most uncomfortable bus ride you can probably imagine. twelve hours from petersburg to riga, with one stop in estonia in the bloody dead of night. i did discover that it eventually gets dark that time of year, however, but only for 2 hours. and for those who don't know, the fourth of july is my second-favorite holiday. just after christmas. so you may as well call it my very favorite holiday.
despite my lonely tales, i will tell you this: one of my favorite thanksgivings was last year, the first one at kate and caroline's... and the one that followed with the mormons. it wasn't perfect. no fancy china or sitting at a large table while everyone gave thanks, and on one occasion, no turkey! actually, i think there were even canadians and kiwis at these events, too. but the joy and the welcoming and the warmth of the whole thing made me feel like i was at home again. for the first thanksgiving, possibly ever, i felt that i had something monumental to be grateful for. i had a family, despite having no family. i wasn't lonely, despite how very lonely i had been. i know, i know, normally we thank God for the big and the small, the meaningful and the insignificant... that's what the holiday is for. but this one, somehow, was different. i suppose that i'd felt so much of what it means to lose, or give up, what was important and comfortable to me, only to be provided for in abundance in such a very foreign place.
these days, i'm totally loving thanksgiving.
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Saturday, November 08, 2008
personality tests
lately, my family has taken a number of personality tests, partially because it'd be good for us and partially out of curiosity.
i have recently discovered that i am a blue-white, very nearly a blue-white-yellow.
and also that i am an enfp. more importantly, i also learned that, as such, i am typically attracted to intp's and infj's.
somehow, this explains a great deal, about me, and about the hims i seem to choose.
i really wish i'd known this a year ago.
or three.
or maybe even five.
to be honest, i'm very tired of hurting, and really i just wish it would all go away. this week marks 60 days, and i am saddened to find that, on occasion, i still feel compelled to cry. i'd like to think i've forgiven, because being unable to do so is only going to hurt me - slowly eat away at me so that i remember nothing about him but my own bitterness. this would be unjust as, truly, i mostly felt much, much sweeter things than bitterness. some things, more deeply, wildly, and beautifully than i ever thought i could again. and others, more painfully and recklessly than i'd ever hoped to revisit after the one that took me a year to extract.
despite all this, i have no desire to utter that forgiveness, much less express it in a meaningful way. still, part of me feels that the dreams, the nervous twitching, or maybe even that sick feeling i get at the bottom of my stomach when i uncover that letter or those entries will go away if i do. the other part of me, however, believes that any utterance will only be disregarded, or un-reciprocated, or worse, criticized. that somehow, the whole thing will be concluded to be my own fault, and i, being ever-true to form, will accept the blame. it's hard to say which course of action is more unbearable, but even more difficult to admit that the reason i refuse to act is because i'm sure i'll cave. and i absolutely cannot cave, because, i know, absolutely, that it wasn't my fault, and even more absolutely, that i can't take the humiliation again. blessed are the poor in spirit, He said, for they shall be filled. i don't know that i'm ready to feel that poor again before i wait for You to fill me up. i don't think i even have the capacity for that kind of humility anymore.
i have recently discovered that i am a blue-white, very nearly a blue-white-yellow.
and also that i am an enfp. more importantly, i also learned that, as such, i am typically attracted to intp's and infj's.
somehow, this explains a great deal, about me, and about the hims i seem to choose.
i really wish i'd known this a year ago.
or three.
or maybe even five.
to be honest, i'm very tired of hurting, and really i just wish it would all go away. this week marks 60 days, and i am saddened to find that, on occasion, i still feel compelled to cry. i'd like to think i've forgiven, because being unable to do so is only going to hurt me - slowly eat away at me so that i remember nothing about him but my own bitterness. this would be unjust as, truly, i mostly felt much, much sweeter things than bitterness. some things, more deeply, wildly, and beautifully than i ever thought i could again. and others, more painfully and recklessly than i'd ever hoped to revisit after the one that took me a year to extract.
despite all this, i have no desire to utter that forgiveness, much less express it in a meaningful way. still, part of me feels that the dreams, the nervous twitching, or maybe even that sick feeling i get at the bottom of my stomach when i uncover that letter or those entries will go away if i do. the other part of me, however, believes that any utterance will only be disregarded, or un-reciprocated, or worse, criticized. that somehow, the whole thing will be concluded to be my own fault, and i, being ever-true to form, will accept the blame. it's hard to say which course of action is more unbearable, but even more difficult to admit that the reason i refuse to act is because i'm sure i'll cave. and i absolutely cannot cave, because, i know, absolutely, that it wasn't my fault, and even more absolutely, that i can't take the humiliation again. blessed are the poor in spirit, He said, for they shall be filled. i don't know that i'm ready to feel that poor again before i wait for You to fill me up. i don't think i even have the capacity for that kind of humility anymore.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
why me.
today, i discovered a ladies home journal positioned very oddly in our powder room. right next to the sink. but the funny thing is that when i tried to move it, i discovered that it was stuck to the tile. i then saw that the adhesive was a white substance that looked a lot like milk or soap, and then some flakes of cereal. yes, flakes of honey bunches of oats. i quickly confronted my brother about eating (and spilling) his cereal in the bathroom. and not just that. why, after spilling it everywhere, he seemed to think simply covering it with a magazine was a perfectly sufficient way to clean it up. why does someone eat cereal in the bathroom? i wish i could tell you. i ask myself the same question.
at which point, he denied any knowledge of the cereal. i promptly labeled him as a liar, since i'd just seen him eating a bowl of cereal, i've seen him eat it in the bathroom before, there were unmistakable flakes all over, and... plus, he lies all the time. lying all the time equals liar. i told him to clean it up, and he told me what he thought of me, per the usual tradition these days. and clean it up, he did, with a dry paper towel, which was, essentially, no help at all. i discovered this later, and ended up cleaning the dried sugar myself. wow, i was under the impression that i was living with a 17 year-old. i'm pretty sure my 3 year-old kids in taiwan were even capable of cleaning something like that up. or just not eating cereal in the bathroom.
i suppose things would be different if every day weren't another version of the same thing.
the sound you are now hearing is miniature segments of my brain exploding.
at which point, he denied any knowledge of the cereal. i promptly labeled him as a liar, since i'd just seen him eating a bowl of cereal, i've seen him eat it in the bathroom before, there were unmistakable flakes all over, and... plus, he lies all the time. lying all the time equals liar. i told him to clean it up, and he told me what he thought of me, per the usual tradition these days. and clean it up, he did, with a dry paper towel, which was, essentially, no help at all. i discovered this later, and ended up cleaning the dried sugar myself. wow, i was under the impression that i was living with a 17 year-old. i'm pretty sure my 3 year-old kids in taiwan were even capable of cleaning something like that up. or just not eating cereal in the bathroom.
i suppose things would be different if every day weren't another version of the same thing.
the sound you are now hearing is miniature segments of my brain exploding.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
home.
right now, the whole "home" concept is not what i thought it would be. nothing i've ever experienced before, either. but things rarely turn out the way you wish they would or expect them to.
so i suppose it's helpful that jon foreman's "i am still running" came on just when i needed to hear it.
build me a home, inside your scars
build me a home, inside your song
build me a home, inside your open arms
the only place i ever will belong
and as much as i've learned about this over the years, about how You provide home when i need it, i think i need to know this more than ever these days. i'm done with speaking and i'm done with arguing. i'm even done with searching for sympathy in the deepest regions of myself.
and i'm asking You, my Father, please don't forget me now. i need a home.
so i suppose it's helpful that jon foreman's "i am still running" came on just when i needed to hear it.
build me a home, inside your scars
build me a home, inside your song
build me a home, inside your open arms
the only place i ever will belong
and as much as i've learned about this over the years, about how You provide home when i need it, i think i need to know this more than ever these days. i'm done with speaking and i'm done with arguing. i'm even done with searching for sympathy in the deepest regions of myself.
and i'm asking You, my Father, please don't forget me now. i need a home.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
the shadow proves the sunshine
i knew it was going to be hard, but i wasn't prepared for this.
i'm in way over my head.
i'm in way over my head.
Friday, July 11, 2008
13 months later.
i'm back in the states, yet i haven't mastered the art of ordering food in english. this could take a while.
Friday, December 28, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
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.
Monday, September 24, 2007
"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.
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.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
this is marty.
"cleanliness is next to godliness."
or so the saying goes.
so i realized today that i have said scarcely anything about my abode since i moved to taipei in june. to be perfectly honest, it's because i didn't really want you to see it. it's been in a state of semi-madness since i moved here, though it's had its brief moments of relative organization. relative being the operative word, of course.
i feel that i need to say something about why this is so - to explain/defend myself, if you will. you see, this is the first time i've really had my own place, though one could argue that it's still not even mine.
what i mean, though, is that i haven't had my very own space since i moved away from temecula 5 years ago. sure, i had my own room then, but my mother converted it into my brother's bedroom almost immediately after i left. this didn't upset me or anything. i still had 3 brothers living at home, and 2 of them were still sharing, so it only seemed fair that one would get my old room. then brian moved out, and christopher promptly took over his old space. what can i say? my old room has never quite lost its girlish charm or aura, so he couldn't wait to move out. presently, it's a guest room. it's comfortably neutral, neither mine nor anyone else's, though i do stay there when i occasionally come back to temecula. granted, i have to fight brian for it, but it's rare that we're home at the same time.
so since i moved out of my parents' house, i've lived in 7... count 'em... 7 different places. i moved twice my first year at chapman, due to an intolerable living situation. i don't speak of my first room... i think i mostly like to pretend that that first month never existed. i stayed in braden for the rest of the school year, then moved home for the summer. i then moved back to chapman, but had to switch dorms again because a roommate bailed. it was back to braden for a little over half the term, but then i had to leave for london in january. i spent half a year in london, fortunately in the same room, then came back to temecula for 2 months before moving to la casita de limon, where i stayed until i moved to taipei. whew.
in all those places, i always lived in a state of relative residence. i settled in, all the while knowing that my time there was very limited. the closest i've ever come to my own place was la casita de limon, but even then, i was starkly aware that one, i would be leaving after college, two, i didn't want to take up too much space because there were 5 of us crammed in there, and three, i didn't have much money. when i got some, it went into my wardrobe instead of my living space. i've always kept my space in such a way that i could pack it all up within a day if i really wanted to. i kept extra boxes under my bed, and limited my belongings to things i could carry in two suitcases and a carry-on. and always always always, come moving day, everything could be fit into one car. i never got attached to my belongings because, more likely than not, they probably couldn't come to wherever i was going next. and yes, i'm a chronic minimalist.
so here i am in taipei, the same old scenario facing me once again. i'm in a place, but i once again have no intention of staying. come next june, i expect to embark on a new adventure, whatever and wherever that may be. and once again, i expect to pack my life away neatly into two suitcases and a carry-on.
so what exactly happened today? i suppose i realized that my nomadic lifestyle, while exciting, has left me unable to find a place to call home. and today, as i pondered this, i realized how difficult it has become. i thought about how frustrating i was at la casita de limon to have to search through boxes to find some of the things i needed. i thought about how semi-decorated my place always was - how i put my own personality into a little corner of the house, but left almost all the rest of it untouched. i thought about how, in england, i feel like i barely even unpacked - just moved things from suitcases to drawers and back again. and here i am in taipei, the same way. i've been keeping many items simply in a drawer, and other things still haven't been unpacked. like jewelry, for instance. i've taken out what i've worn, but it still gets tucked away into the same little bag that i brought it all in, every single time. and as i've pondered bringing new things into my little hovel, i've always told myself that it's unnecessary because, hey - it probably can't come with me anyway.
but today. today, i snapped. this saturday was just like many of the other saturdays i've had here. i did various chores and laundry, just like i always do, tried to find suitable spaces to hang my wet clothes (this is always a problem for me), then glanced briefly at my bed. i winced a little because it's simply uninviting, no matter how accustomed i am to it, no matter how many nights i've slept well in it. because i had limited packing space, i brought limited bedlinens. i brought one large top sheet that could be tucked into any sized bed (i wasn't sure how large my bed would be), another top sheet - this one twin-sized, and my beloved blue blanket that sarice gave me for my 19th birthday. my bed here, however, is not exactly a double but not exactly a queen either. it is thus far too big for my top red top sheet or sarice's blanket, though the other sheet covers the mattress sufficiently. i've simply moved things around to suit my sleeping needs. today, though, i looked at my bed irritably. it just wasn't enough anymore. my top sheet kept being pulled from under the mattress because it's not designed to be tucked away. i have one pillow, but it's not enough, especially since my bed is made for two. and the other blankets just aren't enough. that's it, i said to myself. i'm going to buy sheets today.
so i went on an adventure in the taipei ikea, which is a whole lot of glorious things all in one space. and as i walked around my private haven, i started to think about the fact that my place really doesn't feel like it's mine at all. i realized that, though i know i have to pack everything up or get rid of it before i leave next june, i'm tired of coming home, but never completely feeling like i'm in a state of rest. i'm tired of feeling like i'm still in a hotel - still living partially out of my bags and never feeling like i have the freedom to personalize my surroundings. so with all the temptations of ikea around me, i caved. and i spent my entire afternoon decorating my apartment. granted, there isn't much space and i'm still a hard-core minimalist, but i had to do something to make my burrow more inviting to myself after a long day at work. having never actually decorated a place on purpose, this was very exciting for me. i've always just pulled together bits and pieces of my other places for each room i've lived in after that. but here - i had the freedom to do something new! so i found some fun items in the colors the suit me best - red, green, and black. i guess if i have to get rid of most of it when i leave, so be it. but for the next 10 months, i'm going to be a very happy girl.
here are some pictures of my surroundings:
my desk with a basket for me to organize the many things i use every day. i have three primary bags: a regular purse, a bag for paperwork or homework, and my traipsing bag. as keys, mrt cards, and money tends to switch bags almost every day, i thought this might be a good place to keep it all, instead of combing my apartment frantically before leaving for work every morning. also, please note the red seat covering, the green candle, my plant marty, the red rug next to the bathroom and my sarong from indonesia, all things i put out today. also, you might not be able to see it, but i now have chinese tivo, which is pretty much useless to me because all but like 12 channels are in chinese. and the program itself is in chinese so i couldn't even record shows if i wanted to. you all might also be asking yourself why i have a rug outside my bathroom. well gentlemen and women of the western world, welcome to a culture where they do not bother to separate your bathroom into neat little sections for you. normally, you might thing, a proper bathroom needs a space for a toilet, a space for a sink, and a space for a bath/shower. this is not true my friends, as asian culture for some reason deems this an inefficient use of space. so why bother separating it when you can have it all crammed into a little 4x6ft. area? my bathroom, it turns out, is so much more than this, and spends the greater part of its existence sopping wet. my solution is to close the door, crack the window, and use it as a place to hang clothes on occasion. as it was wet when i was taking these pictures and is now housing all my wet underwear, i did not take a picture of my bathroom for you. it is, however, very clean despite its almost perpetual state of dampness. by some miracle of God, i don't have mildew or mold. however, the floor always seems to have some sort of moisture on it, and unfortunately my feet get very dirty from walking around taipei or very slippery after i've taken a shower. ergo, i either track dirt around my apartment or i slip and slide. my solution is, now, to put a rug outside my door.
moving on - here's my new bed, complete with red sheets, new pillows, and the really awesome colorful pillow they had for like 1USD at ikea. yesssssss.
here's a little bit more of my apartment. you can see some of my "kitchen" area, my wardrobe, and a few shoes i was too lazy to put away before taking this picture. yes, i realize that there are many bottles on my refrigerator. okay, here's the deal, people. i'm saving them to recycle. however, the garbage trucks only come by once a day at the same time, so if i miss them, i don't get to throw my trash away. and they stay for like 1 minute tops, so i have just enough time to throw away whatever i can carry in two hands before they leave. one time, i actually chased a truck, and it didn't slow down, so i had to hurl my garbage into it from like 10 feet away. garbage stops for no one. i sometimes go over a week without throwing my trash away. taipei is virtually void of garbage cans, so i have to simply bide my time. the last time the truck came by, i had to use the opportunity to throw away the priority items - i.e. the regular garbage and the garbage in my bathroom. next time, folks. next time.
and finally. meet marty.
marty is my orchid, clearly. there's that saying that you really don't get attached to something unless you've named it. so naming it is just another step in actually keeping it alive, right? as i thought about an appropriate name for my orchid, i was inclined to give it a more delicate name than marty. i mean, i've always been under the impression that orchids are delicate flowers. ah, but i don't think marty is delicate at all. he's been alive for nearly 2 weeks, arguably longer than i've ever kept anything alive. and he still looks pretty good at that. he sits here by himself all day, and only requires water about once every other day. my apartment gets a paltry bit of natural sunlight, but marty doesn't care... he just keeps blooming. he's there to greet me when i wake up and when i come home from work, and just hangs out looking beautiful and patient even when i'm discouraged by my horrid chinese. i daresay that it takes an especially patient and resilient plant to live with me, so "marty" is perfectly appropriate. if he actually stays alive till i have to leave next june, i'm not sure what i'm going to do with him. it seems unfortunate to have to get rid of something that actually survived that long, but i doubt marty would like traipsing through russia much. maybe he'll find a home just like layce's larry...
or so the saying goes.
so i realized today that i have said scarcely anything about my abode since i moved to taipei in june. to be perfectly honest, it's because i didn't really want you to see it. it's been in a state of semi-madness since i moved here, though it's had its brief moments of relative organization. relative being the operative word, of course.
i feel that i need to say something about why this is so - to explain/defend myself, if you will. you see, this is the first time i've really had my own place, though one could argue that it's still not even mine.
what i mean, though, is that i haven't had my very own space since i moved away from temecula 5 years ago. sure, i had my own room then, but my mother converted it into my brother's bedroom almost immediately after i left. this didn't upset me or anything. i still had 3 brothers living at home, and 2 of them were still sharing, so it only seemed fair that one would get my old room. then brian moved out, and christopher promptly took over his old space. what can i say? my old room has never quite lost its girlish charm or aura, so he couldn't wait to move out. presently, it's a guest room. it's comfortably neutral, neither mine nor anyone else's, though i do stay there when i occasionally come back to temecula. granted, i have to fight brian for it, but it's rare that we're home at the same time.
so since i moved out of my parents' house, i've lived in 7... count 'em... 7 different places. i moved twice my first year at chapman, due to an intolerable living situation. i don't speak of my first room... i think i mostly like to pretend that that first month never existed. i stayed in braden for the rest of the school year, then moved home for the summer. i then moved back to chapman, but had to switch dorms again because a roommate bailed. it was back to braden for a little over half the term, but then i had to leave for london in january. i spent half a year in london, fortunately in the same room, then came back to temecula for 2 months before moving to la casita de limon, where i stayed until i moved to taipei. whew.
in all those places, i always lived in a state of relative residence. i settled in, all the while knowing that my time there was very limited. the closest i've ever come to my own place was la casita de limon, but even then, i was starkly aware that one, i would be leaving after college, two, i didn't want to take up too much space because there were 5 of us crammed in there, and three, i didn't have much money. when i got some, it went into my wardrobe instead of my living space. i've always kept my space in such a way that i could pack it all up within a day if i really wanted to. i kept extra boxes under my bed, and limited my belongings to things i could carry in two suitcases and a carry-on. and always always always, come moving day, everything could be fit into one car. i never got attached to my belongings because, more likely than not, they probably couldn't come to wherever i was going next. and yes, i'm a chronic minimalist.
so here i am in taipei, the same old scenario facing me once again. i'm in a place, but i once again have no intention of staying. come next june, i expect to embark on a new adventure, whatever and wherever that may be. and once again, i expect to pack my life away neatly into two suitcases and a carry-on.
so what exactly happened today? i suppose i realized that my nomadic lifestyle, while exciting, has left me unable to find a place to call home. and today, as i pondered this, i realized how difficult it has become. i thought about how frustrating i was at la casita de limon to have to search through boxes to find some of the things i needed. i thought about how semi-decorated my place always was - how i put my own personality into a little corner of the house, but left almost all the rest of it untouched. i thought about how, in england, i feel like i barely even unpacked - just moved things from suitcases to drawers and back again. and here i am in taipei, the same way. i've been keeping many items simply in a drawer, and other things still haven't been unpacked. like jewelry, for instance. i've taken out what i've worn, but it still gets tucked away into the same little bag that i brought it all in, every single time. and as i've pondered bringing new things into my little hovel, i've always told myself that it's unnecessary because, hey - it probably can't come with me anyway.
but today. today, i snapped. this saturday was just like many of the other saturdays i've had here. i did various chores and laundry, just like i always do, tried to find suitable spaces to hang my wet clothes (this is always a problem for me), then glanced briefly at my bed. i winced a little because it's simply uninviting, no matter how accustomed i am to it, no matter how many nights i've slept well in it. because i had limited packing space, i brought limited bedlinens. i brought one large top sheet that could be tucked into any sized bed (i wasn't sure how large my bed would be), another top sheet - this one twin-sized, and my beloved blue blanket that sarice gave me for my 19th birthday. my bed here, however, is not exactly a double but not exactly a queen either. it is thus far too big for my top red top sheet or sarice's blanket, though the other sheet covers the mattress sufficiently. i've simply moved things around to suit my sleeping needs. today, though, i looked at my bed irritably. it just wasn't enough anymore. my top sheet kept being pulled from under the mattress because it's not designed to be tucked away. i have one pillow, but it's not enough, especially since my bed is made for two. and the other blankets just aren't enough. that's it, i said to myself. i'm going to buy sheets today.
so i went on an adventure in the taipei ikea, which is a whole lot of glorious things all in one space. and as i walked around my private haven, i started to think about the fact that my place really doesn't feel like it's mine at all. i realized that, though i know i have to pack everything up or get rid of it before i leave next june, i'm tired of coming home, but never completely feeling like i'm in a state of rest. i'm tired of feeling like i'm still in a hotel - still living partially out of my bags and never feeling like i have the freedom to personalize my surroundings. so with all the temptations of ikea around me, i caved. and i spent my entire afternoon decorating my apartment. granted, there isn't much space and i'm still a hard-core minimalist, but i had to do something to make my burrow more inviting to myself after a long day at work. having never actually decorated a place on purpose, this was very exciting for me. i've always just pulled together bits and pieces of my other places for each room i've lived in after that. but here - i had the freedom to do something new! so i found some fun items in the colors the suit me best - red, green, and black. i guess if i have to get rid of most of it when i leave, so be it. but for the next 10 months, i'm going to be a very happy girl.
here are some pictures of my surroundings:
my desk with a basket for me to organize the many things i use every day. i have three primary bags: a regular purse, a bag for paperwork or homework, and my traipsing bag. as keys, mrt cards, and money tends to switch bags almost every day, i thought this might be a good place to keep it all, instead of combing my apartment frantically before leaving for work every morning. also, please note the red seat covering, the green candle, my plant marty, the red rug next to the bathroom and my sarong from indonesia, all things i put out today. also, you might not be able to see it, but i now have chinese tivo, which is pretty much useless to me because all but like 12 channels are in chinese. and the program itself is in chinese so i couldn't even record shows if i wanted to. you all might also be asking yourself why i have a rug outside my bathroom. well gentlemen and women of the western world, welcome to a culture where they do not bother to separate your bathroom into neat little sections for you. normally, you might thing, a proper bathroom needs a space for a toilet, a space for a sink, and a space for a bath/shower. this is not true my friends, as asian culture for some reason deems this an inefficient use of space. so why bother separating it when you can have it all crammed into a little 4x6ft. area? my bathroom, it turns out, is so much more than this, and spends the greater part of its existence sopping wet. my solution is to close the door, crack the window, and use it as a place to hang clothes on occasion. as it was wet when i was taking these pictures and is now housing all my wet underwear, i did not take a picture of my bathroom for you. it is, however, very clean despite its almost perpetual state of dampness. by some miracle of God, i don't have mildew or mold. however, the floor always seems to have some sort of moisture on it, and unfortunately my feet get very dirty from walking around taipei or very slippery after i've taken a shower. ergo, i either track dirt around my apartment or i slip and slide. my solution is, now, to put a rug outside my door.
moving on - here's my new bed, complete with red sheets, new pillows, and the really awesome colorful pillow they had for like 1USD at ikea. yesssssss.
here's a little bit more of my apartment. you can see some of my "kitchen" area, my wardrobe, and a few shoes i was too lazy to put away before taking this picture. yes, i realize that there are many bottles on my refrigerator. okay, here's the deal, people. i'm saving them to recycle. however, the garbage trucks only come by once a day at the same time, so if i miss them, i don't get to throw my trash away. and they stay for like 1 minute tops, so i have just enough time to throw away whatever i can carry in two hands before they leave. one time, i actually chased a truck, and it didn't slow down, so i had to hurl my garbage into it from like 10 feet away. garbage stops for no one. i sometimes go over a week without throwing my trash away. taipei is virtually void of garbage cans, so i have to simply bide my time. the last time the truck came by, i had to use the opportunity to throw away the priority items - i.e. the regular garbage and the garbage in my bathroom. next time, folks. next time.
and finally. meet marty.
marty is my orchid, clearly. there's that saying that you really don't get attached to something unless you've named it. so naming it is just another step in actually keeping it alive, right? as i thought about an appropriate name for my orchid, i was inclined to give it a more delicate name than marty. i mean, i've always been under the impression that orchids are delicate flowers. ah, but i don't think marty is delicate at all. he's been alive for nearly 2 weeks, arguably longer than i've ever kept anything alive. and he still looks pretty good at that. he sits here by himself all day, and only requires water about once every other day. my apartment gets a paltry bit of natural sunlight, but marty doesn't care... he just keeps blooming. he's there to greet me when i wake up and when i come home from work, and just hangs out looking beautiful and patient even when i'm discouraged by my horrid chinese. i daresay that it takes an especially patient and resilient plant to live with me, so "marty" is perfectly appropriate. if he actually stays alive till i have to leave next june, i'm not sure what i'm going to do with him. it seems unfortunate to have to get rid of something that actually survived that long, but i doubt marty would like traipsing through russia much. maybe he'll find a home just like layce's larry...
Sunday, August 26, 2007
one step towards child-rearing
"no day but today."
or so the saying goes.
for the past few years, i've become progressively insecure about my maternal instincts. i've had roommates who couldn't wait to have children. they love love love babies and kids, and show it in their abilities to take care of ill college students such as me. yes, with all the classes and hours at work, i spent the greater part of my college years recovering from some bout with illness. i once told heather that i wasn't sure i even had the mommy gene in me. i mean, i'd feel fairly ready if i did, right? i could barely take care of myself, let alone someone else. my own personal philosophy is to just suck it up, but it's not like i can say that to a kid as he or she complains of a sore throat.
heather's advice (probably inspired by 28 days): "we just need to buy you a plant, joy. if that lives, we'll move on to a pet. and if that's successful, well, maybe you'll feel better about humans."
so in the spirit of joy and maybe making my apartment a little more cheerful, i went to the flower market today and bought a plant. a real, live plant. dusty pink large orchids, in fact. i even bought some soil and a new pot in which to transport it. ah, here's to praying for inspiration.
or so the saying goes.
for the past few years, i've become progressively insecure about my maternal instincts. i've had roommates who couldn't wait to have children. they love love love babies and kids, and show it in their abilities to take care of ill college students such as me. yes, with all the classes and hours at work, i spent the greater part of my college years recovering from some bout with illness. i once told heather that i wasn't sure i even had the mommy gene in me. i mean, i'd feel fairly ready if i did, right? i could barely take care of myself, let alone someone else. my own personal philosophy is to just suck it up, but it's not like i can say that to a kid as he or she complains of a sore throat.
heather's advice (probably inspired by 28 days): "we just need to buy you a plant, joy. if that lives, we'll move on to a pet. and if that's successful, well, maybe you'll feel better about humans."
so in the spirit of joy and maybe making my apartment a little more cheerful, i went to the flower market today and bought a plant. a real, live plant. dusty pink large orchids, in fact. i even bought some soil and a new pot in which to transport it. ah, here's to praying for inspiration.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
