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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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."

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!

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?