still lazy, and still lame. i keep wanting to believe that maybe i expect too much, but i don't. i really, really don't. why am i so bad at being angry? i could understand it if it didn't bother me anymore, but it does. and i could understand it if i had a poor reason to be, but i don't. or even if it didn't hurt that much, but it does. no matter how many times i've tried to find a loophole in this whole being angry thing, i can't.
which, of course, isn't about just one thing, but about many things, some related and some not, which simply make me tired, angry, and consequently determined.
truly, i was excited to be back, and i like america okay, but i'm realizing how foolish it was to believe that there was anything to be anxious about here. absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it also makes you forget all the important stuff that drove you away in the first place.
and why all the same problems, re-disguised as something far more interesting or forgivable, aren't okay anymore.
prague is in january. and at last i will be away, relieved, past... whatever you call it. because i just can't stand it.
again.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
manana.
i now know why the olympics only happen once every 4 years.
they severely eclipse one's ability to carry on the responsibilities of a grown-up, much less act like one.
though i've gotta say it's a beautiful thing to forget yourself for a few seconds while amazing people like lezak do seemingly impossible things... like chasing down the french. because they had it coming. you forget that it's only a game, that the world is still full of real problems, and that you still have a serious problem with the u.s. government. these things seem trivial while you bounce around the room, screaming for some guy who can't even hear you to GO FASTER!
i maintain that the world could do with more absence of dignity.
they severely eclipse one's ability to carry on the responsibilities of a grown-up, much less act like one.
though i've gotta say it's a beautiful thing to forget yourself for a few seconds while amazing people like lezak do seemingly impossible things... like chasing down the french. because they had it coming. you forget that it's only a game, that the world is still full of real problems, and that you still have a serious problem with the u.s. government. these things seem trivial while you bounce around the room, screaming for some guy who can't even hear you to GO FASTER!
i maintain that the world could do with more absence of dignity.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
things which do not put me in a good mood.
when i was 18, some things happened, and after a whole incident that included a truck, i ended up hospitalized but alive.
the sad thing is that the people responsible have more or less told me to shake it off.
and in the grand scheme, some days, like today, have been exceptionally shitty. you see, even though this happened 4 years ago, i spend whole days unable to feel some of my toes. for those who don't know, this has nothing to do with my toes, and everything to do with some nerves and discs in my lower back.
and also, 4 years later, i get rejected by insurance companies, and sometimes, to add insult to injury (literally, hah!), this happens on the same day that my toes are numb.
there's no good way to shake that off.
today really could have been better.
the sad thing is that the people responsible have more or less told me to shake it off.
and in the grand scheme, some days, like today, have been exceptionally shitty. you see, even though this happened 4 years ago, i spend whole days unable to feel some of my toes. for those who don't know, this has nothing to do with my toes, and everything to do with some nerves and discs in my lower back.
and also, 4 years later, i get rejected by insurance companies, and sometimes, to add insult to injury (literally, hah!), this happens on the same day that my toes are numb.
there's no good way to shake that off.
today really could have been better.
Monday, August 11, 2008
the 4 x 100 swim was epic.
and also, i'm wondering if michael phelps is looking for a wife. i'd make a great mrs. phelps.
Monday, August 04, 2008
question.
has nobody in the western world heard of jay chou's secret? oh netflix, how you disappoint me.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
androgyny, short hair, cultural beauty, and the severe repercussions of living in taiwan for a year
since i got back to america, people seem to enjoy making the same crack at me everywhere i go. "what do you think... doesn't joy look a little more asian?" this is promptly followed by a sharp sideways glare that i apparently do so well and sarcastic laughter.
ha. ha. ha. ha.
that's so original.
and up till this point, i didn't think i'd adopted any asian characteristics. firstly, because that's just stupid. secondly, because i'm unmistakably white. and thirdly... did i use the word stupid?
i mean, living in a culture doesn't mean you're going to start to look like the people around you, does it? not physically, anyway. yes, you might start to incorporate their fashion, their culinary tastes, and appreciate their art, but i never thought that one could actually physically, biologically metamorphose to fit one's surroundings.
behold, the glory of my celebrity look-alike collage. i honestly don't know how to feel about this. my initial reaction is that maybe i should be very, very insulted that i supposedly look like jay chou. i mean, i like jay chou's movies. i enjoy his music. i adored (and continue to look for) 不能說的秘密. hell, i respect jay chou. all this aside, however, it does not change the fact that he is a man and i am not.
apparently, i have attributes that are man-like in appearance. i'm not sure where to begin reconciling this. i think the easy thing to do is blame this on my hair, and not the rest of me. at least that saves therapy. in my defense, however, most taiwanese men are more than a little effeminate, and i believe that our friend jay here is no exception. ask chris!
next, i will say that i don't mind looking like whatever japanese pop artist/actress that is, or kelly hu for that matter. in fact, kelly came up as my closest celebrity match when i tried other photos. still shocking that they're both asian and i'm not!
i actually don't mind jesse mccartney that much, either, since i think one could argue that we look like we're related. i'm just sayin!
so, my friends, it seems that androgyny is in fact still alive and well, and my short hair has thrown me into that category. that's ok, i tell myself, because a lot of fantastic artists/actresses/musicians/cultural icons have rocked that look over the years. and also, apparently, i have incorporated the taiwanese cultural standard of beauty into my appearance. i guess i can't get annoyed with those people who say i look more asian anymore. damnit.
...but fuck that joan collins part.
ha. ha. ha. ha.
that's so original.
and up till this point, i didn't think i'd adopted any asian characteristics. firstly, because that's just stupid. secondly, because i'm unmistakably white. and thirdly... did i use the word stupid?
i mean, living in a culture doesn't mean you're going to start to look like the people around you, does it? not physically, anyway. yes, you might start to incorporate their fashion, their culinary tastes, and appreciate their art, but i never thought that one could actually physically, biologically metamorphose to fit one's surroundings.
behold, the glory of my celebrity look-alike collage. i honestly don't know how to feel about this. my initial reaction is that maybe i should be very, very insulted that i supposedly look like jay chou. i mean, i like jay chou's movies. i enjoy his music. i adored (and continue to look for) 不能說的秘密. hell, i respect jay chou. all this aside, however, it does not change the fact that he is a man and i am not.
apparently, i have attributes that are man-like in appearance. i'm not sure where to begin reconciling this. i think the easy thing to do is blame this on my hair, and not the rest of me. at least that saves therapy. in my defense, however, most taiwanese men are more than a little effeminate, and i believe that our friend jay here is no exception. ask chris!
next, i will say that i don't mind looking like whatever japanese pop artist/actress that is, or kelly hu for that matter. in fact, kelly came up as my closest celebrity match when i tried other photos. still shocking that they're both asian and i'm not!
i actually don't mind jesse mccartney that much, either, since i think one could argue that we look like we're related. i'm just sayin!
so, my friends, it seems that androgyny is in fact still alive and well, and my short hair has thrown me into that category. that's ok, i tell myself, because a lot of fantastic artists/actresses/musicians/cultural icons have rocked that look over the years. and also, apparently, i have incorporated the taiwanese cultural standard of beauty into my appearance. i guess i can't get annoyed with those people who say i look more asian anymore. damnit.
...but fuck that joan collins part.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
emotional masochism?
a lot of strange things have happened with me and relationships over the years. when they're good (and most of the time they are) i love to hold onto those memories and feelings any way i can. i stash away letters, pictures, videos, mementos, and anything else that reminds me of how that relationship enrich(es/ed) my life.
but for some reason, when they turn sour, they can't just curdle and be done with it. it has to hurt in a really profound way. that's only happened a few times, sometimes for a good reason and sometimes for reasons i have never understood, but it has always been hard.
this is probably why i was surprised when i came across some pictures from high school. for one reason or another, i'd held onto them; put them away in boxes and select photo albums. as i went through my stuff and tried to figure out what to do with it today, i was struck by how many of those pictures i still had and how much i still wish everything hadn't changed. though i still tell myself that we've got a lot of time, and sometimes, time changes things.
and then there are other, less pleasant, aspects of holding onto such mementos. once upon a time, i went through a break-up that was the hardest thing i've ever had to do. and i've done difficult things. at the time, i couldn't even cope with organizing those memories, so i put all the letters, pictures, cd's, and gifts i'd ever received from him into a large brown envelope. i completely forgot about the envelope, as it was stashed inside a box, and then shoved into the deepest regions of my closet. today, my friends, i uncovered that envelope. looking through all the letters and pictures, i still didn't want to throw them away. i've realized that, over time, your mind starts to make those memories and letters and everything about another person into something else. perhaps it's because moving on is so hard, and maybe impossible if you don't. you have to find a way to make it worse than how you feel, and all the bad things you remember are directly proportional to how much you don't (or didn't) want to get out of bed. or maybe it's because you find new people to fill the gaps, and you forget about why you had those gaps in the first place; why that person was so important to you.
finding all these things was bittersweet for me. it showed me that all those memories weren't as i remembered them at all. and while it hurt a bit to see it all, seemingly frozen in time, immune from all the things that were eventually said and done, i was relieved to find that, in the end, there is nothing to regret.
but for some reason, when they turn sour, they can't just curdle and be done with it. it has to hurt in a really profound way. that's only happened a few times, sometimes for a good reason and sometimes for reasons i have never understood, but it has always been hard.
this is probably why i was surprised when i came across some pictures from high school. for one reason or another, i'd held onto them; put them away in boxes and select photo albums. as i went through my stuff and tried to figure out what to do with it today, i was struck by how many of those pictures i still had and how much i still wish everything hadn't changed. though i still tell myself that we've got a lot of time, and sometimes, time changes things.
and then there are other, less pleasant, aspects of holding onto such mementos. once upon a time, i went through a break-up that was the hardest thing i've ever had to do. and i've done difficult things. at the time, i couldn't even cope with organizing those memories, so i put all the letters, pictures, cd's, and gifts i'd ever received from him into a large brown envelope. i completely forgot about the envelope, as it was stashed inside a box, and then shoved into the deepest regions of my closet. today, my friends, i uncovered that envelope. looking through all the letters and pictures, i still didn't want to throw them away. i've realized that, over time, your mind starts to make those memories and letters and everything about another person into something else. perhaps it's because moving on is so hard, and maybe impossible if you don't. you have to find a way to make it worse than how you feel, and all the bad things you remember are directly proportional to how much you don't (or didn't) want to get out of bed. or maybe it's because you find new people to fill the gaps, and you forget about why you had those gaps in the first place; why that person was so important to you.
finding all these things was bittersweet for me. it showed me that all those memories weren't as i remembered them at all. and while it hurt a bit to see it all, seemingly frozen in time, immune from all the things that were eventually said and done, i was relieved to find that, in the end, there is nothing to regret.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
the smothering immensity of america
it would not be inaccurate to say that i was ill-prepared for my re-integration into american society. i hadn't given the adjustment much thought, as i've believed myself ready to be home for a while now. i'd prepared myself to leave my children, to be awed by china, to be free in mongolia, to be bored in siberia, and to love moscow despite all the stigmas. after all my hard work and anticipation, i wasn't expecting life in america to be complicated at all, because, let's be honest, it had been 13 months and i was exuberantly ready for mexican food, sunny days, the pacific ocean, affordable starbucks, and my friends. let me first establish that, after having visited various corners of the globe, better weather does not exist outside of southern california. yes, i realize that this depends on your definition of "better," but let me tell you that you cannot count on the sun to shine more regularly and the weather to be more consistent outside of this lovely corner of the world. to return to this, my friends, i am grateful.
all that said, despite people speaking to/at me in english when i'm expecting another language. and despite how much i missed chipotle's vegetarian burritos. and even despite the deeply felt absence of my friends, it's everything i can do to keep my heart from exploding every few hours. not with joy, but because i can feel the anxiety of all things american; all things convenient and large, welling up inside me. at times, i have to slow down, close my eyes, concentrate on simply breathing - or maybe on the hypnotic flashing of the turn signal ahead of me - to simply comprehend the vastness of the very road on which i'm driving. 2 1/2 lanes, a divider, and 2 1/2 going the other way, my mind keeps repeating. i crossed less than that to get to my bus stop on the busiest road in banciao.
the truth of the matter is that i feel crushed by the almost excruciating convenience of modern america. by the fact that i can visit a place like target, one of many other places just like it, and buy myself a snack, tampons, a sweater, the office season 3, laundry detergent, a greeting card, a video game for my brother, and a plant for my mom, everything in one place is all too much to handle. i almost don't know what to do with the rest of my brain's capacity, because all these things required 10x more effort in taipei. i had to go to 7-11 for the snack, cosmed for the tampons, blockbuster for the office, net for a sweater, the little mom and pop shop down the street for my detergent, hess bookstore for the greeting card, ximending for the video game, and the flower market for the plant. thus, i would spend my saturday afternoon doing all the things that i can now easily accomplish in 30 minutes or less without driving more than a mile. and the reason it took my saturday afternoon was because my mornings were spent doing my weekly laundry, which now takes all of 10 seconds and doesn't take 72 hours to still be a little damp yet wearable.
the problem is that all my unused energy, all that void capacity, is being dominated by white noise. by an overwhelming lack of concentration. that i find myself unable to stay focused or on track. that my brain labors beneath the weight of variation and convenience around me, grasping at something to pay attention to, to focus on, to center myself upon, yet inexplicably dazed. i'm distracted by all the music, the signs, the language, the concepts that i understand because i grew up here. i speak the language. fundamentally, all this makes sense to me. but it all gets lost when i see the variations on oreo cookies sprawling before me. i get distracted and confused by how something as simple as an oreo cookie somehow becomes very complicated at the grocery store. do i want the plain ones? double stuff? reverse flavors? and what's all that colored stuff? oh, they make other flavored cookies now. and what size should i get? things get even more confusing when i realize that i also have the option of buying a generic brand. at my local 7-11 so many thousands of miles away, oreos came only one way: 12 cookies at 43NT. nothing special, just plain oreos. i've gotta say that i liked the simplicity of choices. either i wanted the cookies or i didn't, but i didn't feel tormented by options. now, as i look upon the vast array of everything including cookies, i can't remember what i was thinking or why i expected it to be harder than this. and yet i wonder why it is so hard, why america is so bent on testing my decision-making capabilities by putting so many choices in front of me.
more than once this week, i have gone into the cupboard or refrigerator, and simply been overwhelmed by a well-stocked food supply. i've gone to make myself some coffee, but haven't known where to start. my life was simpler, containing such fewer choices during my travels. but in those moments of unbearable plenty, i find i have to close the door and order something at a local restaurant, because there i can at least focus on a specific object, self-contained by its recipe and my blissful lack of control in how it's made.
i feel myself, at times, unable to speak, to think, or even to just be, my brain overstimulated by the sheer vastness of my surroundings. it's true, what they say about things being bigger in america. more cars, and they're all bigger than the ones i've seen since i left. my home street is probably 4 times as wide as my alley in taiwan, which sort of fit a cab if you were lucky. my backyard seems to contain more grass than the whole of taipei. and as for my house, well, i'm kind of blown away by the whole "2 1/2 bathrooms" concept.
i was surprised to find that the hardest part for me was church, where i go to meet my Father who, i have found, meets me in the most surprising and humble places. despite my inability to find a church, He always finds a way to speak to me, even when i'm discouraged or confused or in my loneliest of states. i found Him even when i didn't expect to find Him, atop rinjani in the cold. in the smallest moscow churches, by myself as i plodded along the wall. He romanced me, and reminded me that i am His. even whilst sitting down in the great temple of bangkok, wondering about truth and absolutes, i was certain that my Father heard my confusion and frustration, and He met me, where i was. i could hear Him in the depths of my spirit, and i prayed to my God, while others prayed to theirs. i didn't care, because my God is present everywhere, untamed and unlimited by the compartments to which we assign Him. in fact, it is in these seemingly meaningless nooks of His creation that i seem to hear His voice the loudest. in the utter brokenness of humanity and spirit that His beauty screams from the most deafening and ineffable heights. and yet, when i go to meet Him with others who are looking for Him as well, i can't even concentrate. everything is so big. the building, the message, the lights, the screens, the band, the music. and others around me feel Him and hear Him, and i have always and will always ask myself why i can't hear Him too. the truth is that i need to be prepared in spirit when i come before my God, and strangely, i haven't been able to silence my head or my heart enough to concentrate. perhaps i never was quite cut out for a large church.
i like to think that eventually, i'll get used to all this. that my being with synchronize with my surroundings, and that i will feel once again like i belong in america. whether or not that's what i'm meant to feel is questionable, but i'm trying to be patient.
synchronizing and feeling is perhaps too much to expect. so for right now, i'll just focus on breathing.
all that said, despite people speaking to/at me in english when i'm expecting another language. and despite how much i missed chipotle's vegetarian burritos. and even despite the deeply felt absence of my friends, it's everything i can do to keep my heart from exploding every few hours. not with joy, but because i can feel the anxiety of all things american; all things convenient and large, welling up inside me. at times, i have to slow down, close my eyes, concentrate on simply breathing - or maybe on the hypnotic flashing of the turn signal ahead of me - to simply comprehend the vastness of the very road on which i'm driving. 2 1/2 lanes, a divider, and 2 1/2 going the other way, my mind keeps repeating. i crossed less than that to get to my bus stop on the busiest road in banciao.
the truth of the matter is that i feel crushed by the almost excruciating convenience of modern america. by the fact that i can visit a place like target, one of many other places just like it, and buy myself a snack, tampons, a sweater, the office season 3, laundry detergent, a greeting card, a video game for my brother, and a plant for my mom, everything in one place is all too much to handle. i almost don't know what to do with the rest of my brain's capacity, because all these things required 10x more effort in taipei. i had to go to 7-11 for the snack, cosmed for the tampons, blockbuster for the office, net for a sweater, the little mom and pop shop down the street for my detergent, hess bookstore for the greeting card, ximending for the video game, and the flower market for the plant. thus, i would spend my saturday afternoon doing all the things that i can now easily accomplish in 30 minutes or less without driving more than a mile. and the reason it took my saturday afternoon was because my mornings were spent doing my weekly laundry, which now takes all of 10 seconds and doesn't take 72 hours to still be a little damp yet wearable.
the problem is that all my unused energy, all that void capacity, is being dominated by white noise. by an overwhelming lack of concentration. that i find myself unable to stay focused or on track. that my brain labors beneath the weight of variation and convenience around me, grasping at something to pay attention to, to focus on, to center myself upon, yet inexplicably dazed. i'm distracted by all the music, the signs, the language, the concepts that i understand because i grew up here. i speak the language. fundamentally, all this makes sense to me. but it all gets lost when i see the variations on oreo cookies sprawling before me. i get distracted and confused by how something as simple as an oreo cookie somehow becomes very complicated at the grocery store. do i want the plain ones? double stuff? reverse flavors? and what's all that colored stuff? oh, they make other flavored cookies now. and what size should i get? things get even more confusing when i realize that i also have the option of buying a generic brand. at my local 7-11 so many thousands of miles away, oreos came only one way: 12 cookies at 43NT. nothing special, just plain oreos. i've gotta say that i liked the simplicity of choices. either i wanted the cookies or i didn't, but i didn't feel tormented by options. now, as i look upon the vast array of everything including cookies, i can't remember what i was thinking or why i expected it to be harder than this. and yet i wonder why it is so hard, why america is so bent on testing my decision-making capabilities by putting so many choices in front of me.
more than once this week, i have gone into the cupboard or refrigerator, and simply been overwhelmed by a well-stocked food supply. i've gone to make myself some coffee, but haven't known where to start. my life was simpler, containing such fewer choices during my travels. but in those moments of unbearable plenty, i find i have to close the door and order something at a local restaurant, because there i can at least focus on a specific object, self-contained by its recipe and my blissful lack of control in how it's made.
i feel myself, at times, unable to speak, to think, or even to just be, my brain overstimulated by the sheer vastness of my surroundings. it's true, what they say about things being bigger in america. more cars, and they're all bigger than the ones i've seen since i left. my home street is probably 4 times as wide as my alley in taiwan, which sort of fit a cab if you were lucky. my backyard seems to contain more grass than the whole of taipei. and as for my house, well, i'm kind of blown away by the whole "2 1/2 bathrooms" concept.
i was surprised to find that the hardest part for me was church, where i go to meet my Father who, i have found, meets me in the most surprising and humble places. despite my inability to find a church, He always finds a way to speak to me, even when i'm discouraged or confused or in my loneliest of states. i found Him even when i didn't expect to find Him, atop rinjani in the cold. in the smallest moscow churches, by myself as i plodded along the wall. He romanced me, and reminded me that i am His. even whilst sitting down in the great temple of bangkok, wondering about truth and absolutes, i was certain that my Father heard my confusion and frustration, and He met me, where i was. i could hear Him in the depths of my spirit, and i prayed to my God, while others prayed to theirs. i didn't care, because my God is present everywhere, untamed and unlimited by the compartments to which we assign Him. in fact, it is in these seemingly meaningless nooks of His creation that i seem to hear His voice the loudest. in the utter brokenness of humanity and spirit that His beauty screams from the most deafening and ineffable heights. and yet, when i go to meet Him with others who are looking for Him as well, i can't even concentrate. everything is so big. the building, the message, the lights, the screens, the band, the music. and others around me feel Him and hear Him, and i have always and will always ask myself why i can't hear Him too. the truth is that i need to be prepared in spirit when i come before my God, and strangely, i haven't been able to silence my head or my heart enough to concentrate. perhaps i never was quite cut out for a large church.
i like to think that eventually, i'll get used to all this. that my being with synchronize with my surroundings, and that i will feel once again like i belong in america. whether or not that's what i'm meant to feel is questionable, but i'm trying to be patient.
synchronizing and feeling is perhaps too much to expect. so for right now, i'll just focus on breathing.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
what's your mosaic?
i came across this concept on a friend's blog. it's a personality mosaic. i absolutely loved the idea.
here's how it works:
1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
2. Using only the first page of results, pick one image.
3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers.
the questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food? right now?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. What is your favourite drink?
7. What is your dream vacation?
8. What is your favourite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. What is one word that describes you?
12. What is your flickr name? (since i don't have a flickr name, i typed in my blog name instead)
what does your mosaic say about you?
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.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
finding validation.
once upon a time, a guy broke up with me (or claimed to break up with me) out of apathy. because he simply didn't care enough about me... who i was and what i did wasn't enough to generate him caring... i believe "mediocrity" was the word he used for me... though i've worked so hard to purge the memory that i might be mistaken.
and for a while, once upon a time, i actually believed that there was some truth to all the things he said. i racked my brain trying to figure out all the things i'd done wrong. and as hard as i worked, i couldn't escape the realization that, no this wasn't a dream, someone actually said that to me.
ultimately, what it made me was angry, and that anger later led to determination. and probably some form of bitterness and apathy. i don't really know, but i worry more about looking ahead than back.
and suddenly, maybe today or yesterday or even a few weeks ago, i felt as though i woke up. as though this past year hit me all at once. my year of chinese and countless responsibilities, my beautiful children. of moving away and fitting in, of making friends with people i love deeply, from all sorts of different backgrounds and lifestyles. of seeing the great wall before i died and finally making it to russia, and making more friends along the way. and despite how awful he made me feel about a social circle at starbucks... because apparently i was supposed to think myself above all my friends there... how many times those friends have e-mailed me to cheer me on... encouraged me to think big and fight hard to achieve all the things i want.
methinks my year has been beyond spectacular. all my fears have slowly been vanquished by success and all the people i love have slowly helped me find all the pieces of myself. i've learned that deep, meaningful love is measured in more ways than one and manifests itself in countless others.
2 years in dating exile and i've learned a lot about what it means to find one's own validation.
yeah, that break-up was bullshit.
and for a while, once upon a time, i actually believed that there was some truth to all the things he said. i racked my brain trying to figure out all the things i'd done wrong. and as hard as i worked, i couldn't escape the realization that, no this wasn't a dream, someone actually said that to me.
ultimately, what it made me was angry, and that anger later led to determination. and probably some form of bitterness and apathy. i don't really know, but i worry more about looking ahead than back.
and suddenly, maybe today or yesterday or even a few weeks ago, i felt as though i woke up. as though this past year hit me all at once. my year of chinese and countless responsibilities, my beautiful children. of moving away and fitting in, of making friends with people i love deeply, from all sorts of different backgrounds and lifestyles. of seeing the great wall before i died and finally making it to russia, and making more friends along the way. and despite how awful he made me feel about a social circle at starbucks... because apparently i was supposed to think myself above all my friends there... how many times those friends have e-mailed me to cheer me on... encouraged me to think big and fight hard to achieve all the things i want.
methinks my year has been beyond spectacular. all my fears have slowly been vanquished by success and all the people i love have slowly helped me find all the pieces of myself. i've learned that deep, meaningful love is measured in more ways than one and manifests itself in countless others.
2 years in dating exile and i've learned a lot about what it means to find one's own validation.
yeah, that break-up was bullshit.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
asia overland
i don't have much time here, but i will say that it's hard to believe i left taipei less than a week ago. currently, i am in an internet cafe in ulaanbatar, mongolia. tomorrow we leave for our ger camps, about 7 hours away.
since i arrived, i have seen the great wall, the forbidden city, tiananmen square, the summer palace, and a smattering of other places in and around beijing. i met up with my tour, a compilation of people from australia, england, and scotland. i am the only american in the group. this never happens. they're all fantastic, a truly pleasant group to travel with.
we spent the past 2 days on a train from beijing to ulaanbatar. about 36 hours. it was simultaneously pleasant and wretched. not because the train was particularly uncomfortable, but the incurable boredom! we read, played board games, took naps, and had many a discussion. yet this is nothing, considering that we will be on trains a full 72 hours next week. yikes.
i could say oh so much more, but time's a tickin' and i don't have much of it! love, peace, and all the rest.
since i arrived, i have seen the great wall, the forbidden city, tiananmen square, the summer palace, and a smattering of other places in and around beijing. i met up with my tour, a compilation of people from australia, england, and scotland. i am the only american in the group. this never happens. they're all fantastic, a truly pleasant group to travel with.
we spent the past 2 days on a train from beijing to ulaanbatar. about 36 hours. it was simultaneously pleasant and wretched. not because the train was particularly uncomfortable, but the incurable boredom! we read, played board games, took naps, and had many a discussion. yet this is nothing, considering that we will be on trains a full 72 hours next week. yikes.
i could say oh so much more, but time's a tickin' and i don't have much of it! love, peace, and all the rest.
Friday, June 13, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
notes 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7
fyi:
it is entirely possible to yell at kids every day for a year, and still feel like part of your soul is being chipped away when you say goodbye. you WILL find 3 year-olds to be both completely intolerable and completely incredible. elementary students and the speeches they give WILL put your education to shame. and beating all the boys in arm wrestling WILL make you "so cool," just like it did growing up... and ultimately, for no apparent reason, this will restore peace to your classroom. the unexpected side effect is that you will also be convinced that, one day, you want to have a whole bunch of sons.
if you bring your steve madden pumps to taipei, they will not fare well because the unearthly substance they use as tile caulk in the mrt will destroy the heel, and you WILL end up dropping them into a community recycling bin along with the other 90% of your wardrobe. oh, my heart. it hurts.
doing too many things at once WILL make you forget even the most habitual tasks: finishing your bi-monthly report cards. turning off the light when you leave your apartment.
and also, the air conditioning.
the post office will never be open when you need it to be.
and the cute starbucks barista who speaks english but never asked you out because he's too intimidated will tell you that he's going to "very miss you."
it is entirely possible to yell at kids every day for a year, and still feel like part of your soul is being chipped away when you say goodbye. you WILL find 3 year-olds to be both completely intolerable and completely incredible. elementary students and the speeches they give WILL put your education to shame. and beating all the boys in arm wrestling WILL make you "so cool," just like it did growing up... and ultimately, for no apparent reason, this will restore peace to your classroom. the unexpected side effect is that you will also be convinced that, one day, you want to have a whole bunch of sons.
if you bring your steve madden pumps to taipei, they will not fare well because the unearthly substance they use as tile caulk in the mrt will destroy the heel, and you WILL end up dropping them into a community recycling bin along with the other 90% of your wardrobe. oh, my heart. it hurts.
doing too many things at once WILL make you forget even the most habitual tasks: finishing your bi-monthly report cards. turning off the light when you leave your apartment.
and also, the air conditioning.
the post office will never be open when you need it to be.
and the cute starbucks barista who speaks english but never asked you out because he's too intimidated will tell you that he's going to "very miss you."
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
note 2
fyi:
visiting a gyno in taiwan is just as equally awkward as visiting one back in the states. yikes.
and they WILL charge you 500NT to get a routine test because you're "too young."
visiting a gyno in taiwan is just as equally awkward as visiting one back in the states. yikes.
and they WILL charge you 500NT to get a routine test because you're "too young."
Sunday, June 08, 2008
note
fyi:
packing to traipse the globe + quitting job + moving = AHHHHHHHH!
p.s. going to the dentist cost me all of nothing this weekend. this is either because of the insurance or because i work as usas. they remembered me from all those trips with the kids.
still. huzzah!
packing to traipse the globe + quitting job + moving = AHHHHHHHH!
p.s. going to the dentist cost me all of nothing this weekend. this is either because of the insurance or because i work as usas. they remembered me from all those trips with the kids.
still. huzzah!
Friday, June 06, 2008
"miss meckes... i'm sorry, but you have hepatitis b."
"it's nothing i haven't heard before."
or so the saying goes.
one thing i really love about taiwanese health care is that doctors generally believe in the body's natural defenses. unlike back home, where we pump ourselves with over-the-counter medication, vaccines, antibiotics, and prescription drugs, the taiwanese are very wary of putting foreign agents into our bodies. i've been hard-pressed to find cough syrup, niquil, ibuprofin, or even aspirin. in fact, i brought most of those supplies, and the closest i've gotten here are multivitamins and those packets of vitamin c that you mix in with hot water and drink when you're sick. i know, it seems cruel for women to live without ibuprofin, but their solution to those unbearable cramps is to simply drink more warm liquids. i have tested this theory over the course of a month, and it actually works. i'm a believer in luke-warm water these days. but upon visiting doctors, they usually try to find other alternatives to your problems. herbs. getting more sleep. less stress in your life. staying warmer.
i've learned to appreciate the simplicity of those solutions. back home, i found myself merely wanting a pill that would allow me to live the exact same way, when the obvious solution was to just slow down.
naturally, their reluctance to putting medicine into your system also translates to things like x-rays and, of course, vaccinations. wow, my mom would love it here.
that's why, when i came calling to a local clinic looking for my hepatitis booster shots, they suggested that i DON'T get them. really? i thought. because i'm supposed to. it's what i read on the who website. though they also told me to get the japanese e. vaccine, and NOBODY carries it! "it only boosts you another 5%, maybe. and you're young and healthy. we should just check your antibody count. if they're high enough, it won't even be necessary for a month of travel. and as for japanese e., they only have that for children. at 22, if you don't already have it, it's unlikely that you'll get it." when all was said and done and he'd answered all my questions, i consented to simply checking my antibodies and going from there. besides, checking the antibody count was expensive enough... i can't imagine what they'd charge me for the actual vaccines. and by expensive, i mean all of $20. welcome to national health care.
he drew some blood and told me to come back after three days to see the result. because of my job, i didn't get back until today. another doctor was in, but he also spoke english. he took me into the back, glanced at my chart, took a breath and told me i have hepatitis b.
".....i have hepatitis b?" i asked.
"yes. you have it," he confirmed.
suddenly, my mouth went dry, my heart raced, and my entire experience in taiwan flashed before my eyes. how is that even possible? i thought. is that even possible? i've led an almost painfully celibate life... i don't even have someone to cuddle with during a movie, and you're telling me that somehow i contracted a disease that is, by and large, mostly passed on through sexual intercourse?!?! now what? i wondered. treatment? is it treatable? should i go back to america right now? can i go back to america? were those previous shots worth crap? did they malfunction and give me the disease instead of protecting me? i know that if it's unlikely to happen, it will probably happen to me, but COME ON! my luck can't possibly be that bad!
"oh, i'm sorry! i was thinking antigen... this is your antibody count. no, you're fine! your antibody levels are very high. you don't need another shot."
"oh my goodness, you scared me."
"haha! sorry! don't worry about getting it when you travel. you're very healthy."
at least i managed to laugh a little afterwards.
but son of a b. he really had me for a second there.
or so the saying goes.
one thing i really love about taiwanese health care is that doctors generally believe in the body's natural defenses. unlike back home, where we pump ourselves with over-the-counter medication, vaccines, antibiotics, and prescription drugs, the taiwanese are very wary of putting foreign agents into our bodies. i've been hard-pressed to find cough syrup, niquil, ibuprofin, or even aspirin. in fact, i brought most of those supplies, and the closest i've gotten here are multivitamins and those packets of vitamin c that you mix in with hot water and drink when you're sick. i know, it seems cruel for women to live without ibuprofin, but their solution to those unbearable cramps is to simply drink more warm liquids. i have tested this theory over the course of a month, and it actually works. i'm a believer in luke-warm water these days. but upon visiting doctors, they usually try to find other alternatives to your problems. herbs. getting more sleep. less stress in your life. staying warmer.
i've learned to appreciate the simplicity of those solutions. back home, i found myself merely wanting a pill that would allow me to live the exact same way, when the obvious solution was to just slow down.
naturally, their reluctance to putting medicine into your system also translates to things like x-rays and, of course, vaccinations. wow, my mom would love it here.
that's why, when i came calling to a local clinic looking for my hepatitis booster shots, they suggested that i DON'T get them. really? i thought. because i'm supposed to. it's what i read on the who website. though they also told me to get the japanese e. vaccine, and NOBODY carries it! "it only boosts you another 5%, maybe. and you're young and healthy. we should just check your antibody count. if they're high enough, it won't even be necessary for a month of travel. and as for japanese e., they only have that for children. at 22, if you don't already have it, it's unlikely that you'll get it." when all was said and done and he'd answered all my questions, i consented to simply checking my antibodies and going from there. besides, checking the antibody count was expensive enough... i can't imagine what they'd charge me for the actual vaccines. and by expensive, i mean all of $20. welcome to national health care.
he drew some blood and told me to come back after three days to see the result. because of my job, i didn't get back until today. another doctor was in, but he also spoke english. he took me into the back, glanced at my chart, took a breath and told me i have hepatitis b.
".....i have hepatitis b?" i asked.
"yes. you have it," he confirmed.
suddenly, my mouth went dry, my heart raced, and my entire experience in taiwan flashed before my eyes. how is that even possible? i thought. is that even possible? i've led an almost painfully celibate life... i don't even have someone to cuddle with during a movie, and you're telling me that somehow i contracted a disease that is, by and large, mostly passed on through sexual intercourse?!?! now what? i wondered. treatment? is it treatable? should i go back to america right now? can i go back to america? were those previous shots worth crap? did they malfunction and give me the disease instead of protecting me? i know that if it's unlikely to happen, it will probably happen to me, but COME ON! my luck can't possibly be that bad!
"oh, i'm sorry! i was thinking antigen... this is your antibody count. no, you're fine! your antibody levels are very high. you don't need another shot."
"oh my goodness, you scared me."
"haha! sorry! don't worry about getting it when you travel. you're very healthy."
at least i managed to laugh a little afterwards.
but son of a b. he really had me for a second there.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
mommy! mommy! look! it's a waiguoren!
"their bark is worse than their bite."
or so the saying goes.
i suppose that's fortunate for many taiwanese people. actually, my taiwanese friends have told me that we foreigners are nicer than we ought to be.
after being in taiwan a year, i've learned to live by a "go with the flow" kind of lifestyle. in general, most things have completely stopped bothering me. rabid dog? almost got hit by a scooter? oh, dead cockroach on the restaurant floor? it's all part of being here.
one thing i have never quite accepted, however, is being stared at. taiwan has made me extremely aware of how white i am. even more aware than new cross, and that's saying a lot! children stare at me wide-eyed. they point... waiguoren! i want to say, 'kid i know what you're saying!' but i just keep on walking. and i wouldn't mind the kids if adults, real adults, didn't stare at me so often. sometimes, on mrts or buses, they'll switch seats when i sit down. most of the time, they'll just skip over me and sit next to another taiwanese person. and on very rare occasions, they'll come to sit down, have a glance at me, process for a good second that i'm a waiguoren, then choose to stand instead. i can almost see the inner debate... stand or sit next to her? stand or sit next to her.... errrrrrr.... stand!
in such situations, there's really a mutual discomfort going on.
for being such naturally shy people, however, i'm amazed by how often i've been approached for random things. several times, i've been offered a job. on occasion, people have asked me questions about my culture or my experience in taiwan for a school assignment. and a few times, people have simply asked me to be their friend, usually because they want to practice their english. the first and third have always seemed silly to me, because for all they know, i could be psychotic.
but the best and funniest incident happened over the weekend. i went on an outing south of taipei with the teachers at my school. we saw a famous waterfall, wrote our wishes on balloons and sent them into the sky, ate a lot of taiwanese food, and generally just got some cleaner air.
and somewhere along the line, this happened:
now the strange thing about this situation was not that complete strangers asked allison and me to take a picture with them. that's a very common thing. rather, i found it unique that they were all guys. i've gotta say that after spending a significant amount of time here, that has happened to me all of ZERO times before. most taiwanese men react to me in one of the following ways:
1. invisibility
2. apathy
3. sheer terror
look. laugh. be envious.
or so the saying goes.
i suppose that's fortunate for many taiwanese people. actually, my taiwanese friends have told me that we foreigners are nicer than we ought to be.
after being in taiwan a year, i've learned to live by a "go with the flow" kind of lifestyle. in general, most things have completely stopped bothering me. rabid dog? almost got hit by a scooter? oh, dead cockroach on the restaurant floor? it's all part of being here.
one thing i have never quite accepted, however, is being stared at. taiwan has made me extremely aware of how white i am. even more aware than new cross, and that's saying a lot! children stare at me wide-eyed. they point... waiguoren! i want to say, 'kid i know what you're saying!' but i just keep on walking. and i wouldn't mind the kids if adults, real adults, didn't stare at me so often. sometimes, on mrts or buses, they'll switch seats when i sit down. most of the time, they'll just skip over me and sit next to another taiwanese person. and on very rare occasions, they'll come to sit down, have a glance at me, process for a good second that i'm a waiguoren, then choose to stand instead. i can almost see the inner debate... stand or sit next to her? stand or sit next to her.... errrrrrr.... stand!
in such situations, there's really a mutual discomfort going on.
for being such naturally shy people, however, i'm amazed by how often i've been approached for random things. several times, i've been offered a job. on occasion, people have asked me questions about my culture or my experience in taiwan for a school assignment. and a few times, people have simply asked me to be their friend, usually because they want to practice their english. the first and third have always seemed silly to me, because for all they know, i could be psychotic.
but the best and funniest incident happened over the weekend. i went on an outing south of taipei with the teachers at my school. we saw a famous waterfall, wrote our wishes on balloons and sent them into the sky, ate a lot of taiwanese food, and generally just got some cleaner air.
and somewhere along the line, this happened:
now the strange thing about this situation was not that complete strangers asked allison and me to take a picture with them. that's a very common thing. rather, i found it unique that they were all guys. i've gotta say that after spending a significant amount of time here, that has happened to me all of ZERO times before. most taiwanese men react to me in one of the following ways:
1. invisibility
2. apathy
3. sheer terror
look. laugh. be envious.
Monday, June 02, 2008
juno
"it's not you, it's me."
or so the saying goes.
i finally got to see juno this weekend. after months of hearing good things and no premiere date in sight, it finally came out in taipei.
most of the time, i don't go to movies unless someone suggests it to me. i'm not sure why this is. also, english films are intolerably loud here. geez, if we weren't deaf before we started watching, we certainly are now!
i've gotta say that i expected more. of what, i'm not sure. it was sweet and enjoyable and awkward like teenage romance tends to be, but maybe i just wanted a more profound experience. or message.
i really liked the soundtrack, though.
or so the saying goes.
i finally got to see juno this weekend. after months of hearing good things and no premiere date in sight, it finally came out in taipei.
most of the time, i don't go to movies unless someone suggests it to me. i'm not sure why this is. also, english films are intolerably loud here. geez, if we weren't deaf before we started watching, we certainly are now!
i've gotta say that i expected more. of what, i'm not sure. it was sweet and enjoyable and awkward like teenage romance tends to be, but maybe i just wanted a more profound experience. or message.
i really liked the soundtrack, though.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
surely, dickens was referring to s4
"it was the best of times; it was the worst of times"
or so the saying goes.
most people have heard of my ongoing, and i daresay epic, war of wills with the children usas refers to as "s4." they range from grades 2-4, and every day is its own private bevy of madness. i seldom let people in, because i feel that it's a government nobody else could understand, nestled somewhere between a loving community and absolute anarchy. some days, i feel like i have my very own, fully taiwanese and completely awkward version of the partridge family, where everybody loves everybody else at the end of the day. and others, i feel like i'm waging a war.
my boss gave me the opportunity to give them up this semester, when all the classes changed. chris and i had to make a choice, and as much as they drive me crazy, i chose to keep them. there are days when i rejoice in the brilliance of my decision and days when i almost can't handle the misery anymore.
i couldn't tell you how many times i've trouble-shooted(shot?) this class with my co-workers. investigated discipline options. organized and reorganized the class. but ultimately it comes down to how i relate to them and how they relate to me. some of it was fixable and some of it was not, no matter what happens or who teaches the class. as it turns out, some kids who are trouble when they're three are still trouble when they're in third grade.
last week, i had to punish two of them for singing "down by the bay" while everyone was trying to write in their books. which isn't a big deal, except one was singing the verse and the other was singing the repeats. i can almost guarantee that they didn't plan it out. they just thought it was a good idea at the time. one started, and the other followed suit. and i would have been angrier, if it hadn't been so funny. i sent them outside for the chinese teacher to deal with them, mostly because i was afraid i'd laugh if i had to punish them myself. i told chris about it the next day, and asked him how he felt about it. is it me? sometimes, they have the capacity to feel like an absolute failure as a teacher and as a disciplinarian. and others, they lift my spirits. i find them funny, sweet, completely endearing. my boss has told me that the most important thing is that i haven't given up on all the kids who have worn the previous teachers out. really, she once told me, you're the only one who hasn't given up on them.
but he probably made me feel the best, when, after my anecdote and expression of frustration, he interjected "you know they really love you," he said. "that's why they do those things." silence. i think to myself, if they loved me, they'd keep my commandments, wouldn't they? "well, what i mean is, they don't do it just because they love to drive you crazy. they love that it's you."
you think so? really, deep down, i'm going to miss s4. i'm so strangely proud of them. proud of their absurdity. of their inability to sit still. of our inside jokes. that every time someone is singing loudly in the halls or making a commotion, i can say, "i think that's one of mine." and i'm always right about that.
here is a picture of us when we've actually pulled it together enough to be super class. and i feel that it pretty much sums us up.
be sure to survey the splendor of my required school uniform.
or so the saying goes.
most people have heard of my ongoing, and i daresay epic, war of wills with the children usas refers to as "s4." they range from grades 2-4, and every day is its own private bevy of madness. i seldom let people in, because i feel that it's a government nobody else could understand, nestled somewhere between a loving community and absolute anarchy. some days, i feel like i have my very own, fully taiwanese and completely awkward version of the partridge family, where everybody loves everybody else at the end of the day. and others, i feel like i'm waging a war.
my boss gave me the opportunity to give them up this semester, when all the classes changed. chris and i had to make a choice, and as much as they drive me crazy, i chose to keep them. there are days when i rejoice in the brilliance of my decision and days when i almost can't handle the misery anymore.
i couldn't tell you how many times i've trouble-shooted(shot?) this class with my co-workers. investigated discipline options. organized and reorganized the class. but ultimately it comes down to how i relate to them and how they relate to me. some of it was fixable and some of it was not, no matter what happens or who teaches the class. as it turns out, some kids who are trouble when they're three are still trouble when they're in third grade.
last week, i had to punish two of them for singing "down by the bay" while everyone was trying to write in their books. which isn't a big deal, except one was singing the verse and the other was singing the repeats. i can almost guarantee that they didn't plan it out. they just thought it was a good idea at the time. one started, and the other followed suit. and i would have been angrier, if it hadn't been so funny. i sent them outside for the chinese teacher to deal with them, mostly because i was afraid i'd laugh if i had to punish them myself. i told chris about it the next day, and asked him how he felt about it. is it me? sometimes, they have the capacity to feel like an absolute failure as a teacher and as a disciplinarian. and others, they lift my spirits. i find them funny, sweet, completely endearing. my boss has told me that the most important thing is that i haven't given up on all the kids who have worn the previous teachers out. really, she once told me, you're the only one who hasn't given up on them.
but he probably made me feel the best, when, after my anecdote and expression of frustration, he interjected "you know they really love you," he said. "that's why they do those things." silence. i think to myself, if they loved me, they'd keep my commandments, wouldn't they? "well, what i mean is, they don't do it just because they love to drive you crazy. they love that it's you."
you think so? really, deep down, i'm going to miss s4. i'm so strangely proud of them. proud of their absurdity. of their inability to sit still. of our inside jokes. that every time someone is singing loudly in the halls or making a commotion, i can say, "i think that's one of mine." and i'm always right about that.
here is a picture of us when we've actually pulled it together enough to be super class. and i feel that it pretty much sums us up.
be sure to survey the splendor of my required school uniform.
oh snap
i have 20 more days of work. 20! one month from today, i will be traipsing through the absolute middle of nowhere, asia. the cusp of civilization... oh, i'm so excited. i mostly want to see if the sky gets any bluer than that.
apparently, russia approved my visa. which is great. even though it took 4 weeks.
i spent today in fulong. it's always weird to see the pacific from the other side. i keep hoping that it's bluer or warmer or that maybe it smells different here, but it's the same. and maybe that's why i love it so much.
this past week was strange. we're down to only women at work. i suddenly have seniority. and i got absurdly ill on thursday. it was a fever and a cold or something, but mostly, i think it was pure, uninhibited, unadulterated exhaustion. and it knocked me flat for nearly 24 hours. i don't think i've ever slept that much.
also, chinese medicine is amazing.
but it tastes like ground chalk.
and goes down just as smoothly.
apparently, russia approved my visa. which is great. even though it took 4 weeks.
i spent today in fulong. it's always weird to see the pacific from the other side. i keep hoping that it's bluer or warmer or that maybe it smells different here, but it's the same. and maybe that's why i love it so much.
this past week was strange. we're down to only women at work. i suddenly have seniority. and i got absurdly ill on thursday. it was a fever and a cold or something, but mostly, i think it was pure, uninhibited, unadulterated exhaustion. and it knocked me flat for nearly 24 hours. i don't think i've ever slept that much.
also, chinese medicine is amazing.
but it tastes like ground chalk.
and goes down just as smoothly.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
that one time
"...think it'll be all right if i never leave my apartment till i'm old?"
-holly, p.s. i love you
a recent topic of interest has been pain that makes you wish that you could die. i'm not talking about physical trauma. i'm talking about disembodied pain, the kind that is so far inside you that you wish you could go tear it out, though you wouldn't know where to start.
i mean, people die for physical reasons all the time. something inside you stops working, and thus, you stop working. it may or may not hurt so much that sleep or unconsciousness or maybe even death are preferred. but for many, if you lie there or do what you're told long enough, that pain goes away.
but we explored this a little further: can you ever die of a broken heart, of actual emotional pain? most have heard the disembodied voice, the one from that indefinable part of yourself that screams that something is very, very wrong.
i spent a summer incapacitated. i went to work because i had to, ate because i had to, and planned my semester because i had to. and once in a while, i even smiled, because of the people in my life. and though i kept on moving, i can attest that there were days, weeks, even months that i woke up and didn't want to move. that i wished that i could just lie there as long as it took for whatever thing that was broken inside me to heal.
right now, i feel that way. i wish i could go to sleep for a few days or weeks, and wake up when it doesn't hurt anymore. i'm spent. i just want to call into work and ask if i can come back in a week, after not moving for the next 7 days. surely, it can't hurt that much then. i go to sleep to stop from hurting and wake up feeling like i hadn't slept at all.
can't i, please?
-holly, p.s. i love you
a recent topic of interest has been pain that makes you wish that you could die. i'm not talking about physical trauma. i'm talking about disembodied pain, the kind that is so far inside you that you wish you could go tear it out, though you wouldn't know where to start.
i mean, people die for physical reasons all the time. something inside you stops working, and thus, you stop working. it may or may not hurt so much that sleep or unconsciousness or maybe even death are preferred. but for many, if you lie there or do what you're told long enough, that pain goes away.
but we explored this a little further: can you ever die of a broken heart, of actual emotional pain? most have heard the disembodied voice, the one from that indefinable part of yourself that screams that something is very, very wrong.
i spent a summer incapacitated. i went to work because i had to, ate because i had to, and planned my semester because i had to. and once in a while, i even smiled, because of the people in my life. and though i kept on moving, i can attest that there were days, weeks, even months that i woke up and didn't want to move. that i wished that i could just lie there as long as it took for whatever thing that was broken inside me to heal.
right now, i feel that way. i wish i could go to sleep for a few days or weeks, and wake up when it doesn't hurt anymore. i'm spent. i just want to call into work and ask if i can come back in a week, after not moving for the next 7 days. surely, it can't hurt that much then. i go to sleep to stop from hurting and wake up feeling like i hadn't slept at all.
can't i, please?
Thursday, May 08, 2008
it's the small things that matter
or so i've heard it said.
in general, i consider most things to be over-appreciated. appearance. money. fashion trends (not to be confused with fashion). large things (beds, cars, closets, refrigerators).
and conversely, i consider other things to be sorely under-appreciated. hot water. underwear. television on dvd. the quesadilla.
and lately, one more thing.
behold, the guav
a:
while it's everywhere, i mean under-appreciated like apples are in our culture. they're just... there. say you're standing amongst an array of fruit, and your choices are strawberries, watermelon, raspberries, blueberries, and apples. which one do you pick? i'll bet it's not the apples!
guava is similar here. mango season comes, and BAM... guava? what's guava? it also will not get picked over dragon fruit, star fruit, kiwi, or pineapple.
i really couldn't tell you why guava wasn't a regular part of my diet back home. wait, yes i can. because you don't find it at home. you eat things like watermelon, strawberries, apples, grapes, and bananas. not guava.
it's a simple fruit. it contains no potency, no zing. but i have to say it's one of the most consistent aspects of my experience in taiwan. even when mango failed me on both the fresh and ice sand level, i don't remember there being a time when i couldn't get guava. and every time i eat it, the better it tastes.
so easily forgettable. so underwhelming in taste and appearance. but time after time, when my body starts screaming for something that isn't processed or greasy or rice, there it is at 7-11 or in the school kitchen, sitting there, staring at me, reminding me of how much better i'll feel when i have some.
mix it with a little prune powder and a half dozen cherry tomatoes, and you have something i'll definitely miss when i go home.
in general, i consider most things to be over-appreciated. appearance. money. fashion trends (not to be confused with fashion). large things (beds, cars, closets, refrigerators).
and conversely, i consider other things to be sorely under-appreciated. hot water. underwear. television on dvd. the quesadilla.
and lately, one more thing.
behold, the guav
a:while it's everywhere, i mean under-appreciated like apples are in our culture. they're just... there. say you're standing amongst an array of fruit, and your choices are strawberries, watermelon, raspberries, blueberries, and apples. which one do you pick? i'll bet it's not the apples!
guava is similar here. mango season comes, and BAM... guava? what's guava? it also will not get picked over dragon fruit, star fruit, kiwi, or pineapple.
i really couldn't tell you why guava wasn't a regular part of my diet back home. wait, yes i can. because you don't find it at home. you eat things like watermelon, strawberries, apples, grapes, and bananas. not guava.
it's a simple fruit. it contains no potency, no zing. but i have to say it's one of the most consistent aspects of my experience in taiwan. even when mango failed me on both the fresh and ice sand level, i don't remember there being a time when i couldn't get guava. and every time i eat it, the better it tastes.
so easily forgettable. so underwhelming in taste and appearance. but time after time, when my body starts screaming for something that isn't processed or greasy or rice, there it is at 7-11 or in the school kitchen, sitting there, staring at me, reminding me of how much better i'll feel when i have some.
mix it with a little prune powder and a half dozen cherry tomatoes, and you have something i'll definitely miss when i go home.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
a good thing
china called today.
(well, actually, they informed my visa agent who informed me)
and they're letting me in the country this summer, despite all the olympic insanity going on. (beijing was, at best, a questionable idea, you guys)
let's hope those russians are as nice.
what's that? oh yes, 20 lbs just lifted off my chest.
(well, actually, they informed my visa agent who informed me)
and they're letting me in the country this summer, despite all the olympic insanity going on. (beijing was, at best, a questionable idea, you guys)
let's hope those russians are as nice.
what's that? oh yes, 20 lbs just lifted off my chest.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
one day me speak pretty.
i promise, every time i sit down to write something, i hope to post something good. i actually have maybe a dozen entries, but none of them are finished, and they're about much more profound and/or entertaining topics than i've been posting lately. musings. quandaries. observations. things revolving around some of the following:
-abortions in taiwan... did you know that this is common and acceptable? i didn't until recently. even though it's legal back home, it's still not okay. if you get one, be prepared to vehemently defend your reasons to anyone who finds out. here, it's simply an inconvenience to having unprotected sex. wait, unprotected sex? yes, well, the sexual tension of youth culture here would require a few dozen blogs to begin with, so i'll skip it. but there's a machismo in asian culture that states that wearing a condom is emasculating. yet man-purses, sequins, and copious amount of hair product somehow are not. also, they apparently don't learn anything in sex education, because nobody likes to talk about it. i didn't say it, chris' taiwanese friend did. people are too conservative to talk about sex, but not too conservative to have it. hmmmm... christian culture kind of has the same problem, i'm discovering. but that's another post.
-the convenience store phenomenon and how it just might make the world a safer place. really!
-my new-found appreciation for socialized health care, followed by a commentary on how overpriced and inconvenient medicine is back home. i'd argue that we're paying for better health care, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for better medicine, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more qualified doctors, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for a longer life expectancy and a healthier population, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more personal relationships with our doctors... for convenience... for protection... for consistency... for safety and legitimacy... but we're not. WHAT ARE WE PAYING FOR!
-taiwanese fashion. how it can be gloriously rich and beautiful, or maybe its ability to burn your eyes out of their sockets.
-my infatuation with jay chou and chinese films.
-the hierarchy of asian culture. japan. korea. china. taiwan. hong kong. the philippines. indonesia. cambodia. thailand. vietnam. burma. india. no, they're not the same, and you'd be surprised. i learned this from taiwanese friends and other ex-pats, and slowly, it's begun to make a lot of sense.
-the glory of commercials on taipei buses.
all half-finished or only just begun. why? because my ability to write and speak has diminished severely. i can't write cohesive thoughts anymore, people. vocabulary? all my sentences and words sound the same. my sentences don't make any sense anymore, because i don't speak english. i speak esl teacher. it's a terrible half-breed of a language, both stealth and completely untraceable as it sneaks upon you. it begins with a sentence, and before you know it, you're asking questions like "what is your mommy's hair look like?" you're just too lazy to correct yourself and say "does" instead.
lately, i've contemplated bringing some of these esl-isms back with me and seeing if people notice. sometimes, i think it would be hilarious. people refer to each other as "the" something. "the" teacher joy. "the" brian. i wonder how long i'd have to say it before people stopped and asked me what was wrong with me. the other fun ones include: how to do? how to say? don't have! (instead of didn't) and speaking with your hands. a lot. also, counting things instead of saying "a", "the." make a line becomes make one line. bring me a pencil is now bring me one pencil. i haven't started calling things "my one" anymore, because i hate that more than anything, though i have started making the same sounds people make when they're unhappy. just wait till it comes out of me... you might find it to be the most terrible thing. ever.
we'll see if i ever rediscover myself enough to finish those blogs.
-abortions in taiwan... did you know that this is common and acceptable? i didn't until recently. even though it's legal back home, it's still not okay. if you get one, be prepared to vehemently defend your reasons to anyone who finds out. here, it's simply an inconvenience to having unprotected sex. wait, unprotected sex? yes, well, the sexual tension of youth culture here would require a few dozen blogs to begin with, so i'll skip it. but there's a machismo in asian culture that states that wearing a condom is emasculating. yet man-purses, sequins, and copious amount of hair product somehow are not. also, they apparently don't learn anything in sex education, because nobody likes to talk about it. i didn't say it, chris' taiwanese friend did. people are too conservative to talk about sex, but not too conservative to have it. hmmmm... christian culture kind of has the same problem, i'm discovering. but that's another post.
-the convenience store phenomenon and how it just might make the world a safer place. really!
-my new-found appreciation for socialized health care, followed by a commentary on how overpriced and inconvenient medicine is back home. i'd argue that we're paying for better health care, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for better medicine, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more qualified doctors, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for a longer life expectancy and a healthier population, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more personal relationships with our doctors... for convenience... for protection... for consistency... for safety and legitimacy... but we're not. WHAT ARE WE PAYING FOR!
-taiwanese fashion. how it can be gloriously rich and beautiful, or maybe its ability to burn your eyes out of their sockets.
-my infatuation with jay chou and chinese films.
-the hierarchy of asian culture. japan. korea. china. taiwan. hong kong. the philippines. indonesia. cambodia. thailand. vietnam. burma. india. no, they're not the same, and you'd be surprised. i learned this from taiwanese friends and other ex-pats, and slowly, it's begun to make a lot of sense.
-the glory of commercials on taipei buses.
all half-finished or only just begun. why? because my ability to write and speak has diminished severely. i can't write cohesive thoughts anymore, people. vocabulary? all my sentences and words sound the same. my sentences don't make any sense anymore, because i don't speak english. i speak esl teacher. it's a terrible half-breed of a language, both stealth and completely untraceable as it sneaks upon you. it begins with a sentence, and before you know it, you're asking questions like "what is your mommy's hair look like?" you're just too lazy to correct yourself and say "does" instead.
lately, i've contemplated bringing some of these esl-isms back with me and seeing if people notice. sometimes, i think it would be hilarious. people refer to each other as "the" something. "the" teacher joy. "the" brian. i wonder how long i'd have to say it before people stopped and asked me what was wrong with me. the other fun ones include: how to do? how to say? don't have! (instead of didn't) and speaking with your hands. a lot. also, counting things instead of saying "a", "the." make a line becomes make one line. bring me a pencil is now bring me one pencil. i haven't started calling things "my one" anymore, because i hate that more than anything, though i have started making the same sounds people make when they're unhappy. just wait till it comes out of me... you might find it to be the most terrible thing. ever.
we'll see if i ever rediscover myself enough to finish those blogs.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
我的中華的朋友你好!
today, after work, i was tying up some loose ends on my visas and watching the office, and this clip came up:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AC1oj_SWJU
now, i'll be the first to admit that my chinese isn't great, but i've really come to appreciate this. i had to listen a few times to fully figure out what he was saying, but it's wo de zhonghua de pengyou, ni hao! which means, my chinese friends, hello!
okay, nobody else will think it's funny except chris, but i was dying.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AC1oj_SWJU
now, i'll be the first to admit that my chinese isn't great, but i've really come to appreciate this. i had to listen a few times to fully figure out what he was saying, but it's wo de zhonghua de pengyou, ni hao! which means, my chinese friends, hello!
okay, nobody else will think it's funny except chris, but i was dying.
Monday, April 14, 2008
oh no!
i am officially booked for this summer... trains, buses, hostels, flights. everything except those effing visas. but otherwise all confirmed. i get back to the states on july 10. oh man.
i was reflecting for a moment on the utter pinnacle of gruel i will be consuming in my summer months. the taiwanese say that chinese food is dodgy. they also said the same about thai food, and i found thai food, even that of the dodgiest sort, to be immensely more appetizing than the so-called food i often eat in taiwan.
but even so, i might just have to become a vegetarian in china, as one can't be too careful when we're talking billions of socially and politically repressed people. maybe unlike taiwan, they actually find a use for all those stray dogs.
kidding!
but seriously, it will be onto mongolia. now i've had damn good mongolian barbecue, but i've seen pictures of ulaanbatar, and we are talking the fringe of civilization as we know it. i borders (literally and metaphorically) on all those -stan countries i have no desire to visit. kazakhstan. uzbekistan. turkmenistan. like polygon-shaped states, i avoid -stans. one can only imagine what they're going to dream up while i'm camping in the middle of nowhere and living, it seems, just like abraham. which is totally awesome, i might add. i've heard rumors of raw meat, which, even in my hungriest of states, i'm not sure i can stomach.
russia is another story. i know people who've been to russia. i've heard stories about russia. i've had an inexplicable desire to visit russia as long as i can remember. i had twelve year-old fantasies about the glory of petersburg while reading anna karenina. don't judge me for thinking it would be sweet to be a member of the russian aristocracy. unless i was a woman. especially an adulteress. or a romanov. or living anywhere -bouts that whole revolution.
but still!
all that aside, among the stories, i've heard about how indescribably horrible the cooking is. how you wonder if it's really cat they're feeding to you. in which case, i won't live on vodka, but 7-11 or its kin might continue to rescue me.
then, as i make my way back into western culture, there's london. with countries with such a reputation for excellence in cooking, i've wondered how london's food continues to be so... so... disastrous. is disastrous the right word? it's like they are incapable of listening to the french. or the spanish. or the italians. hell, even the swiss, for that matter.
all this further pumps me up for mexican food and in-n-out. perhaps all that cheap hippie kickboxing will count for nothing in the end.
i was reflecting for a moment on the utter pinnacle of gruel i will be consuming in my summer months. the taiwanese say that chinese food is dodgy. they also said the same about thai food, and i found thai food, even that of the dodgiest sort, to be immensely more appetizing than the so-called food i often eat in taiwan.
but even so, i might just have to become a vegetarian in china, as one can't be too careful when we're talking billions of socially and politically repressed people. maybe unlike taiwan, they actually find a use for all those stray dogs.
kidding!
but seriously, it will be onto mongolia. now i've had damn good mongolian barbecue, but i've seen pictures of ulaanbatar, and we are talking the fringe of civilization as we know it. i borders (literally and metaphorically) on all those -stan countries i have no desire to visit. kazakhstan. uzbekistan. turkmenistan. like polygon-shaped states, i avoid -stans. one can only imagine what they're going to dream up while i'm camping in the middle of nowhere and living, it seems, just like abraham. which is totally awesome, i might add. i've heard rumors of raw meat, which, even in my hungriest of states, i'm not sure i can stomach.
russia is another story. i know people who've been to russia. i've heard stories about russia. i've had an inexplicable desire to visit russia as long as i can remember. i had twelve year-old fantasies about the glory of petersburg while reading anna karenina. don't judge me for thinking it would be sweet to be a member of the russian aristocracy. unless i was a woman. especially an adulteress. or a romanov. or living anywhere -bouts that whole revolution.
but still!
all that aside, among the stories, i've heard about how indescribably horrible the cooking is. how you wonder if it's really cat they're feeding to you. in which case, i won't live on vodka, but 7-11 or its kin might continue to rescue me.
then, as i make my way back into western culture, there's london. with countries with such a reputation for excellence in cooking, i've wondered how london's food continues to be so... so... disastrous. is disastrous the right word? it's like they are incapable of listening to the french. or the spanish. or the italians. hell, even the swiss, for that matter.
all this further pumps me up for mexican food and in-n-out. perhaps all that cheap hippie kickboxing will count for nothing in the end.
Friday, March 28, 2008
i wasn't meant to be cool
"too cool for school."
or so the saying goes.
a few months ago, chris walked into work, and proceeded to tell me about his awkward morning. on his way to pick up breakfast at a local sandwich shop, he saw a pretty girl and waved to her. moments later, he sneezed, producing a profuse amount of mucus in the process. you'd be surprised by how discolored and thick your mucus gets in taipei.
to curb the potential pointlessness of his tale, he explained to me his immediate thoughts while he furiously searched for a tissue. really, he said, i was thinking, cool people don't do that. do what?, i asked, sneeze? not just sneeze, joy. sneeze so that copious amounts of snot are emitted from their nostrils while they catch it in their hands and still try to save face, he replied. it's not about the sneezing, but about how awkward i looked doing it. think about it, joy. cool people don't do that.
his reflection on being cool did little more than make me laugh at the time. that is, until wednesday.
i was on my way to work, when i got road burn i haven't felt since that day with the truck. the day that left gashes in my hips for months, marred by the gravel. every day, i live in denial that i have another 10 hour workday ahead of me. i leave home with (sort of) sufficient time to get to work. really, "sufficient" is defined less by how early i leave and more by how gloriously reckless my bus driver is. it just so happens that my alley faces directly to a bus stop. unfortunately, my alley lacks crosswalks, and taking a crosswalk just to get to the bus stop would take me at least another 5 minutes. so to sidestep it all, i wait until traffic is clear, make my way to the center divider, then cross the second half of the street when it's (mostly) clear. on very rare occasions, i have a clear shot all the way across. and wednesday at approximately 8:20am, my friends, just happened to be one of those days.
it's common knowledge in taiwan, though not in most of the western world, that you can cross a street even if motor scooters are coming because there really are no set lanes, and they can easily go around you if you get in their way. i was hurrying to my bus stop when the scooters just started barreling down wenhua lu in my direction. i can make it, i thought to myself, though there was one scooter moving faster than the others. i hesitated for a second: do i slow down or speed up? going at my current pace will cause a collision. if i hurry, i can probably make it, and if i stop altogether, i risk the onslaught of traffic that follows the scooters about 5 or 10 seconds later. it was as if the crazy side of me, the one that compels me to do things like move to non-english speaking places, and the practical side of me were in combat. and for once, the practical side was just as strong. half my body obeyed its usual master, while the other half followed my practical side, remembering how little it wanted to hit anything again, EVER. and in the process, i completely bit it in the street. my legs slid out from under me. i lost my shoe. fortunately, most of the scooters weren't moving as quickly as i'd expected, so i had lots of time to hobble off the side of the road.
and i realized in that moment: cool people don't take dives onto gravel in the street. a cool person wouldn't be bleeding profusely from 4 open wounds in his or her foot right now. and cool people wouldn't be shouting profanities to themselves right now about how much that son of a bitch was hurting.
i did clean myself up once i got to work, and all seemed fine. i used to roller blade as a kid. i've skinned myself more times than i can remember playing soccer or with my brothers. i never bother to take these things seriously. so i cleaned my wounds, covered them, and went about my business.
and all seemed well, until today, the day after cheap hippie kickboxing. it was the hardest workout we've done in a while, but i thought i was fine. my wounds seemed to be scabbing, and they didn't really hurt while i was working out. i got home, showered, and cleaned myself up, only to wake up the morning after in excruciating pain and with a completely swollen foot. for the first time EVER, i spent my whole day at school barefoot. it hurt too much to wear my slippers. i couldn't go up and down stairs. i hobbled from place to place, and was probably crankier than usual. and my kids kept asking me questions about what happened, which just sounded plain silly when i omitted the part about jaywalking, since that's never a good thing to advocate to a group of 6 year-olds. since then, i've taken medication for the swelling, which seems to have improved and generally tried to keep it clean, though i'm still limping.
when i become such a wuss?
or so the saying goes.
a few months ago, chris walked into work, and proceeded to tell me about his awkward morning. on his way to pick up breakfast at a local sandwich shop, he saw a pretty girl and waved to her. moments later, he sneezed, producing a profuse amount of mucus in the process. you'd be surprised by how discolored and thick your mucus gets in taipei.
to curb the potential pointlessness of his tale, he explained to me his immediate thoughts while he furiously searched for a tissue. really, he said, i was thinking, cool people don't do that. do what?, i asked, sneeze? not just sneeze, joy. sneeze so that copious amounts of snot are emitted from their nostrils while they catch it in their hands and still try to save face, he replied. it's not about the sneezing, but about how awkward i looked doing it. think about it, joy. cool people don't do that.
his reflection on being cool did little more than make me laugh at the time. that is, until wednesday.
i was on my way to work, when i got road burn i haven't felt since that day with the truck. the day that left gashes in my hips for months, marred by the gravel. every day, i live in denial that i have another 10 hour workday ahead of me. i leave home with (sort of) sufficient time to get to work. really, "sufficient" is defined less by how early i leave and more by how gloriously reckless my bus driver is. it just so happens that my alley faces directly to a bus stop. unfortunately, my alley lacks crosswalks, and taking a crosswalk just to get to the bus stop would take me at least another 5 minutes. so to sidestep it all, i wait until traffic is clear, make my way to the center divider, then cross the second half of the street when it's (mostly) clear. on very rare occasions, i have a clear shot all the way across. and wednesday at approximately 8:20am, my friends, just happened to be one of those days.
it's common knowledge in taiwan, though not in most of the western world, that you can cross a street even if motor scooters are coming because there really are no set lanes, and they can easily go around you if you get in their way. i was hurrying to my bus stop when the scooters just started barreling down wenhua lu in my direction. i can make it, i thought to myself, though there was one scooter moving faster than the others. i hesitated for a second: do i slow down or speed up? going at my current pace will cause a collision. if i hurry, i can probably make it, and if i stop altogether, i risk the onslaught of traffic that follows the scooters about 5 or 10 seconds later. it was as if the crazy side of me, the one that compels me to do things like move to non-english speaking places, and the practical side of me were in combat. and for once, the practical side was just as strong. half my body obeyed its usual master, while the other half followed my practical side, remembering how little it wanted to hit anything again, EVER. and in the process, i completely bit it in the street. my legs slid out from under me. i lost my shoe. fortunately, most of the scooters weren't moving as quickly as i'd expected, so i had lots of time to hobble off the side of the road.
and i realized in that moment: cool people don't take dives onto gravel in the street. a cool person wouldn't be bleeding profusely from 4 open wounds in his or her foot right now. and cool people wouldn't be shouting profanities to themselves right now about how much that son of a bitch was hurting.
i did clean myself up once i got to work, and all seemed fine. i used to roller blade as a kid. i've skinned myself more times than i can remember playing soccer or with my brothers. i never bother to take these things seriously. so i cleaned my wounds, covered them, and went about my business.
and all seemed well, until today, the day after cheap hippie kickboxing. it was the hardest workout we've done in a while, but i thought i was fine. my wounds seemed to be scabbing, and they didn't really hurt while i was working out. i got home, showered, and cleaned myself up, only to wake up the morning after in excruciating pain and with a completely swollen foot. for the first time EVER, i spent my whole day at school barefoot. it hurt too much to wear my slippers. i couldn't go up and down stairs. i hobbled from place to place, and was probably crankier than usual. and my kids kept asking me questions about what happened, which just sounded plain silly when i omitted the part about jaywalking, since that's never a good thing to advocate to a group of 6 year-olds. since then, i've taken medication for the swelling, which seems to have improved and generally tried to keep it clean, though i'm still limping.
when i become such a wuss?
Monday, March 24, 2008
thought i'd share
JOY ELIZABETH MS
NX 627 14JUN TPEMFM 1530 1725
NX 8 14JUN MFMPEK 1845 2200
(that means i'm going to china)
NX 627 14JUN TPEMFM 1530 1725
NX 8 14JUN MFMPEK 1845 2200
(that means i'm going to china)
Monday, March 17, 2008
it's official
"verbal contracts are as good as the paper they're written on."
or so the saying goes.
only, now i have a piece of paper that says that i'm going to china, mongolia, russia, and finland this summer!
well, that is, after i get my tickets to beijing and my flight from helsinki to lax. or riga to london to lax. but that's just a back-up.
and also, all those damn visas.
but still!
according to VodkaTrain, i'm going!
the great wall, ger camps, st. basil's cathedral, and the petersburg hermitage!
i'm so pumped.
or so the saying goes.
only, now i have a piece of paper that says that i'm going to china, mongolia, russia, and finland this summer!
well, that is, after i get my tickets to beijing and my flight from helsinki to lax. or riga to london to lax. but that's just a back-up.
and also, all those damn visas.
but still!
according to VodkaTrain, i'm going!
the great wall, ger camps, st. basil's cathedral, and the petersburg hermitage!
i'm so pumped.
Friday, March 14, 2008
it's all the small things that lead to one big thing
"it was the straw that broke the camel's back."
or so the saying goes.
i never understood that when i was younger, but life in taiwan has truly shown me the profundity of those words. especially when 70% of my job consists of "just one more thing..."
i definitely cried at work today. this has never happened before, not even when i was adjusting to everything. i guess you could say that, in a way, today broke me. i was so excited that i wouldn't have to prepare another demo class, only to get a phone call that i would be doing so in 15 seconds and counting. oh, and i was, i'm not exaggerating one bit, walking out the door. half of me even contemplated not picking up the phone at all, though the other half knew what was going to happen as soon as it rang. i taught my class, and my kids were horrible. terrible. the naughtiest they've ever been. because they know that when a parent is watching, i can't discipline them the way i normally would. if i'd been alone, they would have been standing against the wall so fast, they wouldn't have known what hit 'em. but oh, they know. they know that chris has them after me, so i REALLY can't do much.
so afterwards, i went up to the office, searched for the homework sheets, which i couldn't find, and then sobbed by myself for a good 3-5 minutes. unhindered. uninhibited. just some solitary sobbing, because i'm exhausted. really, truly exhausted. i've been pushed to the edge, with all the "just one more thing"s in my life. because i want my kids to do well, and if they don't, i take it on as my own failure.
to be honest, my kids really aren't that bad. it's just that my nerves are completely shot. i listen to crying all morning and sometimes all afternoon: wo yao wo mama! keyi ma? wo yao wo mama! keyi ma? wo yao wo mama! keyi ma?
YOU WANT YOUR MOM! I HEARD YOU! how about this: WO SHI NI XIN MAMA! i'm your new mama, kid! HOW ABOUT THAT!
though actually, i kinda like that kid. he's very sweet, just really young. then, one of the new kids doesn't like to wear socks. so he leaves them all over school. and while he doesn't really know his english name yet, i do find it hilarious that his mom calls almost every day that he's forgotten some random article of clothing, which later resurfaces in the ball pool or the toy box or the bathroom.
with all the crying kids, half of my older students are acting out for attention and the other half are trying really hard to befriend me. which is weird, because the ones that suddenly want my affections are the ones who didn't give a crap 2 weeks ago.
and then one screamed and stomped her feet because i was standing too close to her and i'm a foreigner. and she doesn't like foreigners. at 3 years old. she's 3! and i wasn't talking to her anyway! i was talking to my kids, the ones who tell me that they love me. at which point, my chinese teacher proceeded to tell the student that if she didn't stop having a tantrum, she would make me hold her hand and feed her. six months ago, i wouldn't have known the difference, but now i actually understand what they're telling the kids. and forgive me if i'm wrong, but a kid has issues if her idea of fate worse than death is having the white teacher help her eat her snack.
all of it together has completely destroyed my nerves. i'm so jumpy that i can barely listen to my older students saying hello to me. they chant it when i walk into the room, and my heart starts to race wildly. can people die of over-stimulation and emotional taxation?
it's weird to cry alone at work and not really be alone.
nobody was in the room, but we have monitors everywhere. big brother is watching, so i never fool myself into thinking i have privacy anywhere but a bathroom stall. nor did i have the emotional fortitude to care at the time. i pulled myself together enough to go to my next class, though a lot of people asked me over and over if i was ok for the rest of the day.
such overt displays of emotion have been quite the cultural experience in taiwan. in general, the taiwanese are not direct. so if someone yells or cries, they're not sure how to handle it. a few weeks ago, chris and i argued after the kids went home. we try to be direct with each other at work, because being in such close proximity would be really stressful if we weren't. everyone had gone home except for a few teachers downstairs when we started arguing. they told us when we went downstairs that they were certain one of us was going to quit. they were horrified watching things unfold on the monitor, though there was nothing horrific about it. we've explained to them over and over that arguments are helpful, and can actually make people better friends.
how do people get by without releasing things one in a while?
did i mention i'm beyond exhausted?
thank God it's friday.
or so the saying goes.
i never understood that when i was younger, but life in taiwan has truly shown me the profundity of those words. especially when 70% of my job consists of "just one more thing..."
i definitely cried at work today. this has never happened before, not even when i was adjusting to everything. i guess you could say that, in a way, today broke me. i was so excited that i wouldn't have to prepare another demo class, only to get a phone call that i would be doing so in 15 seconds and counting. oh, and i was, i'm not exaggerating one bit, walking out the door. half of me even contemplated not picking up the phone at all, though the other half knew what was going to happen as soon as it rang. i taught my class, and my kids were horrible. terrible. the naughtiest they've ever been. because they know that when a parent is watching, i can't discipline them the way i normally would. if i'd been alone, they would have been standing against the wall so fast, they wouldn't have known what hit 'em. but oh, they know. they know that chris has them after me, so i REALLY can't do much.
so afterwards, i went up to the office, searched for the homework sheets, which i couldn't find, and then sobbed by myself for a good 3-5 minutes. unhindered. uninhibited. just some solitary sobbing, because i'm exhausted. really, truly exhausted. i've been pushed to the edge, with all the "just one more thing"s in my life. because i want my kids to do well, and if they don't, i take it on as my own failure.
to be honest, my kids really aren't that bad. it's just that my nerves are completely shot. i listen to crying all morning and sometimes all afternoon: wo yao wo mama! keyi ma? wo yao wo mama! keyi ma? wo yao wo mama! keyi ma?
YOU WANT YOUR MOM! I HEARD YOU! how about this: WO SHI NI XIN MAMA! i'm your new mama, kid! HOW ABOUT THAT!
though actually, i kinda like that kid. he's very sweet, just really young. then, one of the new kids doesn't like to wear socks. so he leaves them all over school. and while he doesn't really know his english name yet, i do find it hilarious that his mom calls almost every day that he's forgotten some random article of clothing, which later resurfaces in the ball pool or the toy box or the bathroom.
with all the crying kids, half of my older students are acting out for attention and the other half are trying really hard to befriend me. which is weird, because the ones that suddenly want my affections are the ones who didn't give a crap 2 weeks ago.
and then one screamed and stomped her feet because i was standing too close to her and i'm a foreigner. and she doesn't like foreigners. at 3 years old. she's 3! and i wasn't talking to her anyway! i was talking to my kids, the ones who tell me that they love me. at which point, my chinese teacher proceeded to tell the student that if she didn't stop having a tantrum, she would make me hold her hand and feed her. six months ago, i wouldn't have known the difference, but now i actually understand what they're telling the kids. and forgive me if i'm wrong, but a kid has issues if her idea of fate worse than death is having the white teacher help her eat her snack.
all of it together has completely destroyed my nerves. i'm so jumpy that i can barely listen to my older students saying hello to me. they chant it when i walk into the room, and my heart starts to race wildly. can people die of over-stimulation and emotional taxation?
it's weird to cry alone at work and not really be alone.
nobody was in the room, but we have monitors everywhere. big brother is watching, so i never fool myself into thinking i have privacy anywhere but a bathroom stall. nor did i have the emotional fortitude to care at the time. i pulled myself together enough to go to my next class, though a lot of people asked me over and over if i was ok for the rest of the day.
such overt displays of emotion have been quite the cultural experience in taiwan. in general, the taiwanese are not direct. so if someone yells or cries, they're not sure how to handle it. a few weeks ago, chris and i argued after the kids went home. we try to be direct with each other at work, because being in such close proximity would be really stressful if we weren't. everyone had gone home except for a few teachers downstairs when we started arguing. they told us when we went downstairs that they were certain one of us was going to quit. they were horrified watching things unfold on the monitor, though there was nothing horrific about it. we've explained to them over and over that arguments are helpful, and can actually make people better friends.
how do people get by without releasing things one in a while?
did i mention i'm beyond exhausted?
thank God it's friday.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
i hadn't considered this
"and then where will you be?"
or so i've heard it said.
joy is a person who panics a little more about going home with each passing day. she's afraid of how fast the next 3 months will go, when 9 felt like nothing.
oh no, i hadn't thought of this.
to do:
work
save money
plan my trip
get my visas
save money
plan my trip
reduce my life to 2 suitcases
send said suitcases home
plan my trip
buy tickets
panic a little
say goodbye to chris/train someone new
panic a little more
finish my contract
move out
traipse through asia
return to the u.s.a.
and the scariest...
????????????
i have dreams every so often. weird dreams. dreams that i went home and said nothing to anybody. i just left. dreams that i went home with hopes of backpacking this summer, because it makes so much sense to return to the states then fly to hong kong and traipse and then go back again. and dreams that i never follow through, which i really regret, because i never got around to seeing that part of the world when i had the chance.
i guess this is going to be more work than i expected.
or so i've heard it said.
joy is a person who panics a little more about going home with each passing day. she's afraid of how fast the next 3 months will go, when 9 felt like nothing.
oh no, i hadn't thought of this.
to do:
work
save money
plan my trip
get my visas
save money
plan my trip
reduce my life to 2 suitcases
send said suitcases home
plan my trip
buy tickets
panic a little
say goodbye to chris/train someone new
panic a little more
finish my contract
move out
traipse through asia
return to the u.s.a.
and the scariest...
????????????
i have dreams every so often. weird dreams. dreams that i went home and said nothing to anybody. i just left. dreams that i went home with hopes of backpacking this summer, because it makes so much sense to return to the states then fly to hong kong and traipse and then go back again. and dreams that i never follow through, which i really regret, because i never got around to seeing that part of the world when i had the chance.
i guess this is going to be more work than i expected.
Friday, February 15, 2008
oh, no. no, no, no.
"how do i love thee? let me count the ways..."
or so the saying goes. according to browning, anyway.
i apologize in advance if this blog is too graphic.
2008 marks my 3rd year of no valentine on valentine's day. well, i did go on that date with drew last year, the day before valentine's day. but that was a first date, and i'm pretty sure we only picked that day because it wasn't as awkward as actually going out on the 14th.
the nice thing is that i didn't really notice this year. i'd like to think that this is mainly because i've grown a lot. a year of singleness in taiwan really kicks you in the romantic gonads, so when the options are complaining or growing, i pick growing.
but actually, this has more to do with the fact that i was sick on valentine's day. sick, sick. very sick. more sick than i've been in at least a year. and i don't know why. for some reason, my body woke me up at 3a.m., as if to say, "hey! you feel like crap! you don't want to miss a moment of it."
so for the next 4 hours, i couldn't sleep, i couldn't sit, and i couldn't walk. it all made me dizzy. so, i thought to myself, in my misery, maybe vomiting will help. and this is true, perhaps it would have helped. for those who don't know, vomiting, as i perceive it, is fate worse than death. every bit of it repulses me. and over the years, i've learned to control all manner of vomiting by strained mind over matter. and surprisingly, this works on most vomit-inducing situations: hangovers, motion sickness, watching others vomit, death marches on mount rinjani, gnarly taiwanese food, vicodin, being run over by trucks, dormitory life. in fact, i can remember the last time i got the stomach flu, and it was at least 12 years ago. this was also the last time i ever threw up.
but to give you all the magnitude of my illness, i prayed for the ability to throw up whatever it was that my stomach could not handle that night. prayed. and tried. for over 3 hours, i heaved. but nothing. forgive me, but i was under the impression that things of this nature came naturally. like putting your arms out in self-preservation. or procreation. nobody has to teach you to do this stuff. your body figures it out on its own. but apparently, it's been so long since i've thrown up, that my body has actually forgotten how to do it. either i've successfully trained myself in all manner of conscious and sub-conscious defense against regurgitation, or i'm somehow challenged. i like to think the former.
long story short, i managed to stumble into work for the afternoon class sessions, but was barely able to stand through most of the periods. i suppose this is why God invented things like story time, and especially valentine's day, as i just set my kids to making valentines and writing letters for the latter half of class. i've never missed a day of work, but i've spent most of the past 2 days sleeping, or wishing i were sleeping. and when not doing the previous things, just wishing i were dead.
God bless valentine's day.
p.s. i found this picture, and words really cannot convey how amazing it is. chris told me that some of my pictures make me look like i'm "special," but i can guarantee that none of them come close to his face in this one.
i remember a song that says "if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." and by that i mean, let's not forget love comes in more forms than romance, people. when i taught my kids about valentine's day, i reminded them that there are a lot of people to love, in a lot of different ways, not just boyfriends or girlfriends. and i'm thinking, sometimes, that's the best kind of love.
or so the saying goes. according to browning, anyway.
i apologize in advance if this blog is too graphic.
2008 marks my 3rd year of no valentine on valentine's day. well, i did go on that date with drew last year, the day before valentine's day. but that was a first date, and i'm pretty sure we only picked that day because it wasn't as awkward as actually going out on the 14th.
the nice thing is that i didn't really notice this year. i'd like to think that this is mainly because i've grown a lot. a year of singleness in taiwan really kicks you in the romantic gonads, so when the options are complaining or growing, i pick growing.
but actually, this has more to do with the fact that i was sick on valentine's day. sick, sick. very sick. more sick than i've been in at least a year. and i don't know why. for some reason, my body woke me up at 3a.m., as if to say, "hey! you feel like crap! you don't want to miss a moment of it."
so for the next 4 hours, i couldn't sleep, i couldn't sit, and i couldn't walk. it all made me dizzy. so, i thought to myself, in my misery, maybe vomiting will help. and this is true, perhaps it would have helped. for those who don't know, vomiting, as i perceive it, is fate worse than death. every bit of it repulses me. and over the years, i've learned to control all manner of vomiting by strained mind over matter. and surprisingly, this works on most vomit-inducing situations: hangovers, motion sickness, watching others vomit, death marches on mount rinjani, gnarly taiwanese food, vicodin, being run over by trucks, dormitory life. in fact, i can remember the last time i got the stomach flu, and it was at least 12 years ago. this was also the last time i ever threw up.
but to give you all the magnitude of my illness, i prayed for the ability to throw up whatever it was that my stomach could not handle that night. prayed. and tried. for over 3 hours, i heaved. but nothing. forgive me, but i was under the impression that things of this nature came naturally. like putting your arms out in self-preservation. or procreation. nobody has to teach you to do this stuff. your body figures it out on its own. but apparently, it's been so long since i've thrown up, that my body has actually forgotten how to do it. either i've successfully trained myself in all manner of conscious and sub-conscious defense against regurgitation, or i'm somehow challenged. i like to think the former.
long story short, i managed to stumble into work for the afternoon class sessions, but was barely able to stand through most of the periods. i suppose this is why God invented things like story time, and especially valentine's day, as i just set my kids to making valentines and writing letters for the latter half of class. i've never missed a day of work, but i've spent most of the past 2 days sleeping, or wishing i were sleeping. and when not doing the previous things, just wishing i were dead.
God bless valentine's day.
p.s. i found this picture, and words really cannot convey how amazing it is. chris told me that some of my pictures make me look like i'm "special," but i can guarantee that none of them come close to his face in this one.
i remember a song that says "if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." and by that i mean, let's not forget love comes in more forms than romance, people. when i taught my kids about valentine's day, i reminded them that there are a lot of people to love, in a lot of different ways, not just boyfriends or girlfriends. and i'm thinking, sometimes, that's the best kind of love.
Friday, January 25, 2008
this is why i'm hot
"and they lived happily ever after."
or so the saying goes.
seriously, you guys, i'm an awesome story-teller. i've never been good at public speaking and i've never considered myself to be very captivating at parties and/or other occasions of the sort. really, i work with good material... london, homeschooling, my injury, rinjani... it's all gold. and also, i have an uncanny ability to remember tv shows and movies. topics like the office are a great fall-back. but something about teaching has transformed me into a natural and interesting story-teller. my kids love my stories... little red riding hood, cinderella, jack and the beanstalk. okay, so they're not my stories. but i will tell you, many of my kids have heard them a hundred times... they groan when i pull them out... but i remind them that, though they know the story, they've never heard it the way I tell it. for about 20 minutes, it's silent as they listen.
yes, i'm going to be awesome when i'm a mom.
so you should definitely watch this clip to see what i do every day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsEXCS1vSUw
a news program came to the school and took video of me talking to the kids and telling them a story. and it looks pretty sweet online.
FUN FACT: in the shots of me talking to the two boys, jonas and benson, they're relating to me the epic of star wars, complete with characters, as told to them by teacher chris during story time. firstly, how awesome is it that 5 year-olds in taiwan love star wars? and secondly, how awesome is it that they're so enthralled in making sure i know the story too?
i was told to keep them talking, no matter what the subject was, and i asked a few questions, but nothing could keep a dialogue going long. until i asked them to tell me everything they knew about star wars. then they couldn't seem to say enough.
or so the saying goes.
seriously, you guys, i'm an awesome story-teller. i've never been good at public speaking and i've never considered myself to be very captivating at parties and/or other occasions of the sort. really, i work with good material... london, homeschooling, my injury, rinjani... it's all gold. and also, i have an uncanny ability to remember tv shows and movies. topics like the office are a great fall-back. but something about teaching has transformed me into a natural and interesting story-teller. my kids love my stories... little red riding hood, cinderella, jack and the beanstalk. okay, so they're not my stories. but i will tell you, many of my kids have heard them a hundred times... they groan when i pull them out... but i remind them that, though they know the story, they've never heard it the way I tell it. for about 20 minutes, it's silent as they listen.
yes, i'm going to be awesome when i'm a mom.
so you should definitely watch this clip to see what i do every day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsEXCS1vSUw
a news program came to the school and took video of me talking to the kids and telling them a story. and it looks pretty sweet online.
FUN FACT: in the shots of me talking to the two boys, jonas and benson, they're relating to me the epic of star wars, complete with characters, as told to them by teacher chris during story time. firstly, how awesome is it that 5 year-olds in taiwan love star wars? and secondly, how awesome is it that they're so enthralled in making sure i know the story too?
i was told to keep them talking, no matter what the subject was, and i asked a few questions, but nothing could keep a dialogue going long. until i asked them to tell me everything they knew about star wars. then they couldn't seem to say enough.
Monday, January 21, 2008
seriously. it's all i'm asking for.
"ask and you shall receive."
or so the saying goes.
wish i had what i needed
to be on my own
cuz i feel so defeated
and i'm feeling alone
and it all seems so helpless
and i have no plans
i'm a plane in the sunset
with nowhere to land
and all i'm seeing could never make me happy
and all my sandcastles spend their time collapsing
let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough
it's my birthday tomorrow
no one here could know
i was born next thursday
22 years ago
and i feel stuck watching history repeating
oh, am i just a kid who knows she's needy
let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough
-jon foreman
or so the saying goes.
wish i had what i needed
to be on my own
cuz i feel so defeated
and i'm feeling alone
and it all seems so helpless
and i have no plans
i'm a plane in the sunset
with nowhere to land
and all i'm seeing could never make me happy
and all my sandcastles spend their time collapsing
let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough
it's my birthday tomorrow
no one here could know
i was born next thursday
22 years ago
and i feel stuck watching history repeating
oh, am i just a kid who knows she's needy
let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough
-jon foreman
Sunday, January 20, 2008
addictions
"i love you like a fat kid loves cake."
or so the saying goes.
yes, i have addictions, but i tend to think they're fairly harmless, and most of them come and go.
except coffee. and that's been since i was like, 16. i'm pretty sure i've lost that battle. mostly, i try not to think about how much it costs me each year.
there are worse things. like drugs. or alcohol. or sex. or a combination of all three and then some.
but currently, my addiction is jon foreman's new solo tracks! he's releasing 4 cd's this year, titled spring, summer, fall, and winter. i've already listened to fall, and he's just released winter.
i've gotta say, they're beautiful. they're introspective and just lovely to listen to. they're all acoustic, and the content is a provocative combination of His beauty and the pain of moving on.
example:
she said, friend, all along, thought i was learning how to take
how to bend, not how to break
how to laugh, not how to cry
but really, i've been learning how to die
i've been learning how to die
keep writing, jon foreman. thank you for saying something that goes so much deeper than the usual drivel our generation produces.
"would You create in me a clean heart, oh God, restore in me the joy of Your salvation"
it's been my prayer for a long while now.
or so the saying goes.
yes, i have addictions, but i tend to think they're fairly harmless, and most of them come and go.
except coffee. and that's been since i was like, 16. i'm pretty sure i've lost that battle. mostly, i try not to think about how much it costs me each year.
there are worse things. like drugs. or alcohol. or sex. or a combination of all three and then some.
but currently, my addiction is jon foreman's new solo tracks! he's releasing 4 cd's this year, titled spring, summer, fall, and winter. i've already listened to fall, and he's just released winter.
i've gotta say, they're beautiful. they're introspective and just lovely to listen to. they're all acoustic, and the content is a provocative combination of His beauty and the pain of moving on.
example:
she said, friend, all along, thought i was learning how to take
how to bend, not how to break
how to laugh, not how to cry
but really, i've been learning how to die
i've been learning how to die
keep writing, jon foreman. thank you for saying something that goes so much deeper than the usual drivel our generation produces.
"would You create in me a clean heart, oh God, restore in me the joy of Your salvation"
it's been my prayer for a long while now.
Friday, January 18, 2008
i once heard...
"learn to laugh at yourself, and you'll always be amused."
or so the saying goes.
currently, this is my goal. silly, and probably shallow, but i sometimes think i'd like myself a lot more if i could do it.
i've been asked before if there was one song to describe me, what i think it would be.
and long have i thought about it. i don't think i've had a dominant personality, so i've never thought any one song could adequately describe who i think i am.
but the more i've listened to this song, i've realized how much bono knows what he's talking about. about searching and knowing. i try not to mistake my confusion/confliction with being lost. as the old adage said, not all who wander are lost. i like to think i fit into that category. on my most existential level, i've figured out what i'm living for, but beyond that, i feel like i'm wandering. bono admits that he believes, but simultaneously admits that he hasn't figured it out. God bless you, bono.
i have climbed highest mountains
i have run through the fields
only to be with you
only to be with you
i have run
i have crawled
i have scaled these city walls
these city walls
only to be with you
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
i have kissed honey lips
felt the healing fingertips
it burned like fire
this burning desire
i have spoke with the tongues of angels
i have held the hand of the devil
it was warm in the night
i was cold as a stone
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
i believe in the kingdom come
when all the colors will bleed into one
bleed into one
yes, i'm still running
You broke the bonds
and You loosed the chains
carried the cross of my shame
of my shame
You know i believe it
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
-u2, "i still haven't found what i'm looking for"
or so the saying goes.
currently, this is my goal. silly, and probably shallow, but i sometimes think i'd like myself a lot more if i could do it.
i've been asked before if there was one song to describe me, what i think it would be.
and long have i thought about it. i don't think i've had a dominant personality, so i've never thought any one song could adequately describe who i think i am.
but the more i've listened to this song, i've realized how much bono knows what he's talking about. about searching and knowing. i try not to mistake my confusion/confliction with being lost. as the old adage said, not all who wander are lost. i like to think i fit into that category. on my most existential level, i've figured out what i'm living for, but beyond that, i feel like i'm wandering. bono admits that he believes, but simultaneously admits that he hasn't figured it out. God bless you, bono.
i have climbed highest mountains
i have run through the fields
only to be with you
only to be with you
i have run
i have crawled
i have scaled these city walls
these city walls
only to be with you
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
i have kissed honey lips
felt the healing fingertips
it burned like fire
this burning desire
i have spoke with the tongues of angels
i have held the hand of the devil
it was warm in the night
i was cold as a stone
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
i believe in the kingdom come
when all the colors will bleed into one
bleed into one
yes, i'm still running
You broke the bonds
and You loosed the chains
carried the cross of my shame
of my shame
You know i believe it
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
but i still haven't found what i'm looking for
-u2, "i still haven't found what i'm looking for"
Sunday, January 13, 2008
revolution, people. revolution.
"the only things you can count on in life are death and taxes."
or so the saying goes.
cured my political apathy.
carry on.
or so the saying goes.
cured my political apathy.
carry on.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
wo semper bu zhidao, y tu ma?
"veni, vidi, vici."
or so the saying goes.
i've discovered a new phenomenon. lately, i've wondered to myself if some people are born into madness or if, for most, it slowly but surely infiltrates the mind. if we simply stop seeing where we begin and the madness ends. we consciously feel the pangs, but fail to take it seriously until it's too late.
lately, i feel like a part of me is going mad. for those who don't know, words constitute my love language. it's the way i love, the way i process, the way i reason, and really, who i am. i feel that, to a great extent, my self ceases to be without a firm grasp on language and how it moves myself and others.
and lately, everything about it is breaking down. it might seem logical that one's speech would grow if one taught it day in, day out. but the truth is that i listen to so much imperfect english that i, in many ways, can't remember what constitutes good or bad anymore. there's good and bad by esl standards, but they differ a great deal from the sophistication i was cultivating in university.
but if it were english, it would be one thing, but all languages i've been learning have lately coalesced into a non-language. i cannot, sometimes, remember how to express what i want in english. my mind immediately races to chinese, before i have to counter it with my mouth.
furthermore, there are times when i can't remember how to express something in either english or chinese, but can remember the latin or spanish words, and once in a while, i write them down before i realize that it doesn't make any sense. though, for a long while, i couldn't remember how to say "i" or "you" in spanish anymore. wo qiero? that's not right!
and you can tell it's gotten bad when you're supposed to count the students off for dodgeball, and your initial thought is yi, er, yi, er. but oh yeah, you're not allowed to speak chinese. except it's too much mental strain to count one, two, one, two, so you resort to uno, dos, uno, dos. and your kids are confused, but it makes sense to you because, after all, where you come from, that means something!
cohesion. my kingdom for cohesion.
or so the saying goes.
i've discovered a new phenomenon. lately, i've wondered to myself if some people are born into madness or if, for most, it slowly but surely infiltrates the mind. if we simply stop seeing where we begin and the madness ends. we consciously feel the pangs, but fail to take it seriously until it's too late.
lately, i feel like a part of me is going mad. for those who don't know, words constitute my love language. it's the way i love, the way i process, the way i reason, and really, who i am. i feel that, to a great extent, my self ceases to be without a firm grasp on language and how it moves myself and others.
and lately, everything about it is breaking down. it might seem logical that one's speech would grow if one taught it day in, day out. but the truth is that i listen to so much imperfect english that i, in many ways, can't remember what constitutes good or bad anymore. there's good and bad by esl standards, but they differ a great deal from the sophistication i was cultivating in university.
but if it were english, it would be one thing, but all languages i've been learning have lately coalesced into a non-language. i cannot, sometimes, remember how to express what i want in english. my mind immediately races to chinese, before i have to counter it with my mouth.
furthermore, there are times when i can't remember how to express something in either english or chinese, but can remember the latin or spanish words, and once in a while, i write them down before i realize that it doesn't make any sense. though, for a long while, i couldn't remember how to say "i" or "you" in spanish anymore. wo qiero? that's not right!
and you can tell it's gotten bad when you're supposed to count the students off for dodgeball, and your initial thought is yi, er, yi, er. but oh yeah, you're not allowed to speak chinese. except it's too much mental strain to count one, two, one, two, so you resort to uno, dos, uno, dos. and your kids are confused, but it makes sense to you because, after all, where you come from, that means something!
cohesion. my kingdom for cohesion.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
all is quiet on new year's day
"you never know unless you try."
or so the saying goes.
happy 2008.
here's to another year of chances, another year of growing and shrinking dreams, and most importantly, another year of sufficient grace.
my goals for 2008, practical and spiritual:
see the great wall
finally make it to russia
end the year doing something i enjoy
write more
read more
listen more
talk less
breathe more
stress less
pray more
forgive more
laugh more
love more
and decrease, that He might increase
or so the saying goes.
happy 2008.
here's to another year of chances, another year of growing and shrinking dreams, and most importantly, another year of sufficient grace.
my goals for 2008, practical and spiritual:
see the great wall
finally make it to russia
end the year doing something i enjoy
write more
read more
listen more
talk less
breathe more
stress less
pray more
forgive more
laugh more
love more
and decrease, that He might increase
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.
so famous, so famous.
"fame is the thirst of youth."
or so the saying goes.
i found out this week that i will be experiencing my SECOND television debut here in Taiwan. apparently, somebody's coming to film a story about our school, and thus, chris and my classes. i have to do a story time for all my kindergarteners and... oh yeah, taiwan.
good thing i've discovered that i'm a damn good story teller.
or so the saying goes.
i found out this week that i will be experiencing my SECOND television debut here in Taiwan. apparently, somebody's coming to film a story about our school, and thus, chris and my classes. i have to do a story time for all my kindergarteners and... oh yeah, taiwan.
good thing i've discovered that i'm a damn good story teller.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
對阿
"language shapes the way we think, and determines what we can think about."
or so the saying goes.
yes, i can now type chinese on my computer. how awesome is it, you ask? way awesome.
also, now i can finally share my chinese name, which means (respectively) wheat knowledge grace.
this is partially because it sounds like my real name and also, wheat is the color of my hair... and let's face it, i'm all about knowledge and grace.
麥喬茵
or so the saying goes.
yes, i can now type chinese on my computer. how awesome is it, you ask? way awesome.
also, now i can finally share my chinese name, which means (respectively) wheat knowledge grace.
this is partially because it sounds like my real name and also, wheat is the color of my hair... and let's face it, i'm all about knowledge and grace.
麥喬茵
Friday, December 14, 2007
我是 AWESOME
"i wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!"
or so the saying goes.
so tonight, after chinese class (which, surprisingly, i truly understood today), chris and i caught an opening night showing of will smith's new film "i am legend." despite spending most of my childhood afraid of my own shadow, i love me a good thriller-slash-horror film.
i was totally excited for this film, which is a lot like 28 days later, though not quite as scary, i think. 28 days later, the introduction to which i can thank the great film majors of chapman university, is among some of the few films i truly appreciate. this is partially because the cinematography is edgy and raw and exquisite. but also, the opening scenes depict perfectly the one thing i've always been most frightened of. it's as if someone opened up my brain, love for london and all, and chose to stream my thoughts on film!
it's deeply, beautifully, pit-of-your-soul terrifying.
the truth of the matter is, my deepest fear is the uncontrollable, inexplicable extinction of mankind. when i was a little girl, if my mom disappeared to do something unspeakable like take a shower, i would go into fierce panic attacks, which i could never quite explain. even then, i felt silly telling her that it was because, for a few minutes, i'd actually let myself believe that she'd disappeared and i'd never see her again. and not just that she'd disappeared, but that the rest of the world had disappeared with her, leaving me hopelessly, desperately alone. probably irrational, but true nonetheless. it's likely that this is why God didn't choose me for that whole great flood business, among other things, i'm sure.
when i lived in london, one of my favorite things to do was walk along the south bank. i liked that it allowed me the freedom to be. on a nice day, i also enjoyed crossing the bridge to parliament, just because everything was so lively, yet so separate. i liked that i could be disconnected and just observe, as in poe's "man of the crowd." it felt like i was dreaming, because i'd seen it so many times in the movies. it also had an uncanny ability to make me feel okay without the people i loved the most. i felt that i couldn't possibly be lonely; not here - it wasn't physically possible. i also replayed that scene in my head a few times, thinking about how frightening it would be if nobody were there with me. how desperate and unnatural it would all be if all signs of life were to suddenly disappear.
"i am legend" follows a similar plotline, with a sudden and incurable outbreak of a virus that destroys everything in its path. an abandoned new york is very much like an abandoned london, and people with this disease are not dissimilar to people with the "rage" virus. any way you toss the dice, it looks excruciating to be infected. the two biggest differences are that the infected in "i am legend" are extremely sensitive to uv rays and more importantly that, despite their aggressiveness, they're still capable of logic and, i suspect, affinity for and community with each other. it's a compelling twist to the world as we see it, as will smith's character is driven more and more deeply into hopelessness and frustration. his need for interaction slowly wears on him. i've always found the concepts of solitude and "othering" rather interesting. even when a person feels most misunderstood, it's almost unfathomable to exist without some sort of "presence." look at me; i barely understand chinese, but i'm strangely comforted by the mere fact that there are others around me here... that i will walk out my door and somebody will walk or drive by me. there's something that feels natural about presence. this is also probably why i don't understand atheism. it seems counterintuitive to die and be plunged into nothingness. we can't even handle nothingness here. if such a thing were true: if we really do die, only to see and feel nothing, then why bother with understanding or relationships here? if nothingness is where we came from and where we're going, being alone, experiencing and feeling nothing, would probably be the most natural feeling we could have. it's like reproduction... every being on earth figures it out because it's natural. if nothingness were the same, i don't think it would be so disconcerting. i think something would feel strangely right about it, not uncomfortable.
and as for "othering," i've always considered it interesting that "others" are simply that which the majority doesn't understand. usually, we understand this within the context of language, race, religion, sex, education, or sexual orientation. i've always appreciated how lost explores this idea: how the others are considered brutal because we, as an audience, don't understand them as well as the equally brutal survivors we meet in episode 1. and in terms of will smith, it's interesting how this turns in the film. how we empathize with him because we understand him, but how the film opens up the possibility that these logical and communal mutants see him as an "other." he captures them to find a cure, but all they see is him capturing them. he dwells in the light, something that seems crude and unnatural to their severely altered minds. i read in an article that this is a more profound theme in the original book, and i must admit that it intrigues me. the fluidity of what determines monstrous. evolution and destruction. majority and minority.
okay, so the zombies were cheesy and a bit cliche, but this is not what i find terrifying about films like "i am legend" or "28 days later." it still bothers me that they can run so fast and have so much strength. it also bothers me that they look like a less-refined version of lord voldemort, who is a lot like i'd always imagined satan; kind of charismatic and creepy, but very well-spoken and completely arrogant. it was like voldemort with rabies, which is never a good idea, because he'd have definitely avada kedavra'd that dog before it ever bit him. and the zombies in 28 days later are possibly worse with all their super speed, except they still look human.
what i do find interesting about the infected in both films is how painful the whole process looks. there's one scene in particular, as they're quarantining new york city, when a woman begs will smith to take her baby and save them. she claims that she's not infected and she needs someone to help her child. and he pauses for a second to look at her, because he wants so badly, as he says, to fix it. he keeps saying over and over that he won't let this happen. and though she's pitiful and sincere, you see plainly that she's completely infected. her hair has fallen out, she's pasty, and she's bleeding from every orifice on her face. and she's still holding her child. yikes. and the sad thing is that it pales in comparison to how painful the whole "rage" disease seems, with all the incessant vomiting of blood. i can't handle vomiting the plain way, much less projectile blood vomit.
i'll admit, i often find films like this difficult to watch, not because of the shocks and the twists, but because of the advances we're making in genetics, bio-terrorism, and warfare. fighting no longer means meeting each other on a battlefield, or blowing each other to smithereens. it's about dismantling. disarming. breaking morale. working from long distances. being silent until it's time to hit them hard. and as the souls of this generation and the ones to follow slowly disintegrate, things like this worry me, not because of what science can do, but of what truly, deeply evil people can do. we live in a world that is, on all levels, falling away from direct human interaction. the battles we fight aren't face-to-face anymore. how long until we've become so desensitized that fighting for a cause or a country means opening a vial?
wow, this was long. moral of the story: i don't like desolation, but i really, really like will smith. and london.
or so the saying goes.
so tonight, after chinese class (which, surprisingly, i truly understood today), chris and i caught an opening night showing of will smith's new film "i am legend." despite spending most of my childhood afraid of my own shadow, i love me a good thriller-slash-horror film.
i was totally excited for this film, which is a lot like 28 days later, though not quite as scary, i think. 28 days later, the introduction to which i can thank the great film majors of chapman university, is among some of the few films i truly appreciate. this is partially because the cinematography is edgy and raw and exquisite. but also, the opening scenes depict perfectly the one thing i've always been most frightened of. it's as if someone opened up my brain, love for london and all, and chose to stream my thoughts on film!
it's deeply, beautifully, pit-of-your-soul terrifying.
the truth of the matter is, my deepest fear is the uncontrollable, inexplicable extinction of mankind. when i was a little girl, if my mom disappeared to do something unspeakable like take a shower, i would go into fierce panic attacks, which i could never quite explain. even then, i felt silly telling her that it was because, for a few minutes, i'd actually let myself believe that she'd disappeared and i'd never see her again. and not just that she'd disappeared, but that the rest of the world had disappeared with her, leaving me hopelessly, desperately alone. probably irrational, but true nonetheless. it's likely that this is why God didn't choose me for that whole great flood business, among other things, i'm sure.
when i lived in london, one of my favorite things to do was walk along the south bank. i liked that it allowed me the freedom to be. on a nice day, i also enjoyed crossing the bridge to parliament, just because everything was so lively, yet so separate. i liked that i could be disconnected and just observe, as in poe's "man of the crowd." it felt like i was dreaming, because i'd seen it so many times in the movies. it also had an uncanny ability to make me feel okay without the people i loved the most. i felt that i couldn't possibly be lonely; not here - it wasn't physically possible. i also replayed that scene in my head a few times, thinking about how frightening it would be if nobody were there with me. how desperate and unnatural it would all be if all signs of life were to suddenly disappear.
"i am legend" follows a similar plotline, with a sudden and incurable outbreak of a virus that destroys everything in its path. an abandoned new york is very much like an abandoned london, and people with this disease are not dissimilar to people with the "rage" virus. any way you toss the dice, it looks excruciating to be infected. the two biggest differences are that the infected in "i am legend" are extremely sensitive to uv rays and more importantly that, despite their aggressiveness, they're still capable of logic and, i suspect, affinity for and community with each other. it's a compelling twist to the world as we see it, as will smith's character is driven more and more deeply into hopelessness and frustration. his need for interaction slowly wears on him. i've always found the concepts of solitude and "othering" rather interesting. even when a person feels most misunderstood, it's almost unfathomable to exist without some sort of "presence." look at me; i barely understand chinese, but i'm strangely comforted by the mere fact that there are others around me here... that i will walk out my door and somebody will walk or drive by me. there's something that feels natural about presence. this is also probably why i don't understand atheism. it seems counterintuitive to die and be plunged into nothingness. we can't even handle nothingness here. if such a thing were true: if we really do die, only to see and feel nothing, then why bother with understanding or relationships here? if nothingness is where we came from and where we're going, being alone, experiencing and feeling nothing, would probably be the most natural feeling we could have. it's like reproduction... every being on earth figures it out because it's natural. if nothingness were the same, i don't think it would be so disconcerting. i think something would feel strangely right about it, not uncomfortable.
and as for "othering," i've always considered it interesting that "others" are simply that which the majority doesn't understand. usually, we understand this within the context of language, race, religion, sex, education, or sexual orientation. i've always appreciated how lost explores this idea: how the others are considered brutal because we, as an audience, don't understand them as well as the equally brutal survivors we meet in episode 1. and in terms of will smith, it's interesting how this turns in the film. how we empathize with him because we understand him, but how the film opens up the possibility that these logical and communal mutants see him as an "other." he captures them to find a cure, but all they see is him capturing them. he dwells in the light, something that seems crude and unnatural to their severely altered minds. i read in an article that this is a more profound theme in the original book, and i must admit that it intrigues me. the fluidity of what determines monstrous. evolution and destruction. majority and minority.
okay, so the zombies were cheesy and a bit cliche, but this is not what i find terrifying about films like "i am legend" or "28 days later." it still bothers me that they can run so fast and have so much strength. it also bothers me that they look like a less-refined version of lord voldemort, who is a lot like i'd always imagined satan; kind of charismatic and creepy, but very well-spoken and completely arrogant. it was like voldemort with rabies, which is never a good idea, because he'd have definitely avada kedavra'd that dog before it ever bit him. and the zombies in 28 days later are possibly worse with all their super speed, except they still look human.
what i do find interesting about the infected in both films is how painful the whole process looks. there's one scene in particular, as they're quarantining new york city, when a woman begs will smith to take her baby and save them. she claims that she's not infected and she needs someone to help her child. and he pauses for a second to look at her, because he wants so badly, as he says, to fix it. he keeps saying over and over that he won't let this happen. and though she's pitiful and sincere, you see plainly that she's completely infected. her hair has fallen out, she's pasty, and she's bleeding from every orifice on her face. and she's still holding her child. yikes. and the sad thing is that it pales in comparison to how painful the whole "rage" disease seems, with all the incessant vomiting of blood. i can't handle vomiting the plain way, much less projectile blood vomit.
i'll admit, i often find films like this difficult to watch, not because of the shocks and the twists, but because of the advances we're making in genetics, bio-terrorism, and warfare. fighting no longer means meeting each other on a battlefield, or blowing each other to smithereens. it's about dismantling. disarming. breaking morale. working from long distances. being silent until it's time to hit them hard. and as the souls of this generation and the ones to follow slowly disintegrate, things like this worry me, not because of what science can do, but of what truly, deeply evil people can do. we live in a world that is, on all levels, falling away from direct human interaction. the battles we fight aren't face-to-face anymore. how long until we've become so desensitized that fighting for a cause or a country means opening a vial?
wow, this was long. moral of the story: i don't like desolation, but i really, really like will smith. and london.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
yes, it's finally happened
"rest in peace."
or so the saying goes.
i'm pretty sure that after almost 3 years of faithful service, my ipod is now dead. i knew it was coming, but i still maintain that it was too young to die.
may it rest in peace.
or so the saying goes.
i'm pretty sure that after almost 3 years of faithful service, my ipod is now dead. i knew it was coming, but i still maintain that it was too young to die.
may it rest in peace.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
every day, i die a little more
"always be a first-rate version of yourself instead of a second-rate version of somebody else."
or so the saying goes.
or maybe i just get a little closer to confirming the plain fact that i, indeed, have no dignity.
we're learning christmas songs at school, which is glorious because christmas is glorious and my kids are glorious. you put both together, and you can only get good things. savvy?
i've never considered myself to be much of a dancer. but for some reason, any insecurities that i might have or that, in fact, i do have in the real world, somehow, miraculously, don't matter within the confines of usas.
somehow, i managed to pull off singing 2 versions of jingle bells and jingle bell rock with my kids. it's redundant, much, but i certainly didn't plan it that way. we're practicing for the school-wide celebration, and also taking a little time out of our overly-serious lives to be ridiculous. or at least that's how i like to see it. k1 has it all down. their version of jingle bells is funny and sweet and innocent. they kind of know the words and kind of don't. and they don't have the capacity to sing with any sort of tune, so they shout something that sounds like the words and the proper rhythm. sometimes they even cover their own ears because it's so dissonant. but i have to admire their spirit.
as some of you know, my g3 class and i are up and down. for about a month, however, we've been at peace. i'm hoping it lasts. some days, the chinese teachers ask me how i manage them and don't hate them all; they're loud and fierce and competitive and have no shame whatsoever.
and they're amazing, did i mention that? mostly, they make me laugh. i've instituted a system of checks and x's for them. as one so eloquently put:
me: who remembers how the x's and checks work?
him: if you have many checks, you can get cool points. 1 x means cannot play the game, 2 x's means cannot play dodgeball, 3 x's means writing, 4 x's, i don't know, and 5 x's you probably have to stay all night.
this seems to work, because the world just might fall to pieces without dodgeball.
they're singing jingle bell rock, the words to which they picked up instantly. our actions are absurd, but they pull it off because they're incredibly spirited. they have a bit of a pyramid situation going on, with the most outgoing students in the front and the least in the back; not because i organized it this way, but because that's how they fall naturally. it looks surprisingly cool and the whole act is almost like a mock show tune. but they can hear us downstairs and the chinese teachers kept peeping in to have a look (and telling me they think it's hilarious), so we must be doing something all right. i feel silly, because i look silly, but they're my favorite act.
and i've re-inherited g5. we have a lot of fun, and we choreographed a far more complicated version of jingle bells, with switching and twirling and swinging, oh my! they're fun, and ever-so-easy to teach, because i don't have to worry so much about what they do and don't understand. i told them that they have to show some spirit. at least more spirit than g4 and g6. consequently, this means that i, too, have to be spirited if i want any kind of result. and in this case, who needs aerobics? i'm jumping and twirling and yelling and dancing just to get them to loosen up.
no dignity, whatsoever.
or so the saying goes.
or maybe i just get a little closer to confirming the plain fact that i, indeed, have no dignity.
we're learning christmas songs at school, which is glorious because christmas is glorious and my kids are glorious. you put both together, and you can only get good things. savvy?
i've never considered myself to be much of a dancer. but for some reason, any insecurities that i might have or that, in fact, i do have in the real world, somehow, miraculously, don't matter within the confines of usas.
somehow, i managed to pull off singing 2 versions of jingle bells and jingle bell rock with my kids. it's redundant, much, but i certainly didn't plan it that way. we're practicing for the school-wide celebration, and also taking a little time out of our overly-serious lives to be ridiculous. or at least that's how i like to see it. k1 has it all down. their version of jingle bells is funny and sweet and innocent. they kind of know the words and kind of don't. and they don't have the capacity to sing with any sort of tune, so they shout something that sounds like the words and the proper rhythm. sometimes they even cover their own ears because it's so dissonant. but i have to admire their spirit.
as some of you know, my g3 class and i are up and down. for about a month, however, we've been at peace. i'm hoping it lasts. some days, the chinese teachers ask me how i manage them and don't hate them all; they're loud and fierce and competitive and have no shame whatsoever.
and they're amazing, did i mention that? mostly, they make me laugh. i've instituted a system of checks and x's for them. as one so eloquently put:
me: who remembers how the x's and checks work?
him: if you have many checks, you can get cool points. 1 x means cannot play the game, 2 x's means cannot play dodgeball, 3 x's means writing, 4 x's, i don't know, and 5 x's you probably have to stay all night.
this seems to work, because the world just might fall to pieces without dodgeball.
they're singing jingle bell rock, the words to which they picked up instantly. our actions are absurd, but they pull it off because they're incredibly spirited. they have a bit of a pyramid situation going on, with the most outgoing students in the front and the least in the back; not because i organized it this way, but because that's how they fall naturally. it looks surprisingly cool and the whole act is almost like a mock show tune. but they can hear us downstairs and the chinese teachers kept peeping in to have a look (and telling me they think it's hilarious), so we must be doing something all right. i feel silly, because i look silly, but they're my favorite act.
and i've re-inherited g5. we have a lot of fun, and we choreographed a far more complicated version of jingle bells, with switching and twirling and swinging, oh my! they're fun, and ever-so-easy to teach, because i don't have to worry so much about what they do and don't understand. i told them that they have to show some spirit. at least more spirit than g4 and g6. consequently, this means that i, too, have to be spirited if i want any kind of result. and in this case, who needs aerobics? i'm jumping and twirling and yelling and dancing just to get them to loosen up.
no dignity, whatsoever.
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