Communication is a complicated beast, and when you add in culture and language deficiencies, the equation gets even murkier, making for exciting times here in the Village.
Showing posts with label Life issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life issues. Show all posts
Monday, July 25, 2011
Misunderstandings
One of the things, we, as foreigners struggle with in this country is communication. Communication is not just about talking, but relaying meaning and many times, even though plenty of words are said, the meaning gets lost. English, because we are teaching at an English academy (of sorts) is the language of choice. One reason, communication is an issue here, is that it so rarely happens. This Sunday, Kyle had to work. On Wednesday, he was told he wasn't needed, however, on Friday, the Friday before this Sunday, he was told, it was a possiblity that he was indeed needed. However, there was no confirmation. Saturday, Kyle had to seek out the scheduler to find out for sure if he needed to come in and if so, what time. Last minute, has a new meaning in this country, or possibly this school. No one seems to talk to anyone, and no one ever seems to know what is actually happening, or who should know what is happening. The director of the new high school on our campus, told us a story, of trying to find a key to the sports equipment room. He asked director, after director, maintenance after maintenance to no avail. Not only did no one seem to have the key, but no one knew who should have it. Clear communication is severely lacking in this school. The foreigners often blame it on the language and cultural barrier, but I think it runs deeper than that. Friday, my co-teacher, Cindy came into work dizzy. She had a difficult time concentrating. Monday, Cindy was still struggling with the dizziness and had even fainted in her apartment the previous evening. She made a quick trip to a clinic, which result in the doctor telling her she had some type of ear disease which often occurs in old age. (it was a wrong diagnosis she was later to find out) She told our boss (in Korean, their native language), who then told the education department. When a teacher was sent from the education department to replace Cindy for the day so that she could rest, we were told, that the education department had understood Cindy to be quitting, and they were therefore already looking for someone not only to replace her, but to take her apartment. Cindy was horrified. She didn't want to quit, she wasn't going to be permanently dizzy. She hadn't in anyway insinuated that she was leaving, and yet, a search for a permanent replacement had already begun. All of this communication had occured in Korean by Koreans, and yet the communication had been severely butchered. How would this information have been misinterpeted if it been communicated in English, I wonder?
Communication is a complicated beast, and when you add in culture and language deficiencies, the equation gets even murkier, making for exciting times here in the Village.
Communication is a complicated beast, and when you add in culture and language deficiencies, the equation gets even murkier, making for exciting times here in the Village.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Why don't we listen...
to the voice inside our head.... Life would be so much less complicated, if that voice inside our head was given the respect it deserves. The other day, I was chatting with a friend, and we were discussing the words, "I'm sorry." Particularly, how difficult those two little words are so impossible for us, the human race, to say. She was telling us a story, about how she and her sister were in a fight, and she knew herself to be in the wrong, but the words were bottled up inside of her and she refused to allow them to come out. Her sister was refusing to come to a family gathering until those simple words were said. My friend finally relented, and with extreme difficulty, texted her sister those dreaded words. Those dreaded words which release us from the enslavement of our pride. Her sister immediately texted back and said, "thats all I wanted to hear" and came over immediately. My friend, as she was telling this story, kept saying, I knew I was in the wrong, but I just couldn't say those words. Normally, when I make my sisters or other family members a cup of tea, they know that I'm sorry, even when I don't say it and they've accepted that about me.
What is it about those words? As spectators, we can look into this scene with a critical eye, and judge my friend all we want, but in truth, most of us struggle with listening to that voice of reason residing within us. The voice that says, friendship is more important than this argument. The voice that says, that doughnut is not on your diet and may taste good but will not make you feel good. The voice that says, don't you have things other than watching T.V. that you should be doing? Many times, these voices, these conversations within our brains, are depicted by a devil and an angel. The angel is the voice telling us to be good, and the devil is obviously the tempter, the evil doer, but I disagree with this imagery. I don't think of it as the good and bad within us engaged in a perpetual tug of war, but rather our impulsive, fun-loving, temper-tantrum throwing child-like side against the reasonable, logical, guarded, serious adult. The child within us, never wants to reveal injury, and protects our pride with ferocity, but it also is the voice of fun. It also reminds us that life isn't always about work, but about not just living life but enjoying it. Our serious adult side attempts to keep us in line with the goals that we keep, whether it be our diets, or our academic and/or work goals. In my opinion, I think both voices, the logical voice and the impulsive voice have a valid place in our lives, but sometimes we struggle with which one should be listened to at which point in our lives. The story I'm about to relate is a perfect example of when the child-like side should be thrown by the way-side. Sadly, however, the winner of the tug-o-war was the child-like side resulting in a painful and unnecessary blister.
Kyle and I generally make three dishes a week for our meals. Two of our meals that we'd made recently, required bread. (Bread wasn't really required but desired) So we decided that we would make honey jalepeno drop biscuits for our soup and for the buns of our black bean burgers. (Turns out they didn't make very good buns) The trick for the honey, was to pour it on top a few mintues before they came out. On the last batch of biscuits that came out however, my child-like side screamed in utter delight at the golden, crystalline, delicious looking honey bubbled on the aluminum foil next to one the scrumptious biscuits. "Eat it!" my child-like side yelped in unbridled anticipation. I heard the logical side caution in serious tones, "thats not a wise idea. You know what will happen." but for some reason, I didn't listen to logic, but instead to impulse. Sticking my index finger into a sizzling hot glob of honey was possibly one of the dumbest ideas I've had in a long time. What was I thinking? A scream filled the apartment, as my finger sizzled into a painful blister of both physical anguish, and wounded pride, which two weeks later, is still callused. It's not always easy to determine which voice should be listened to, but in this case it should have been simple, and for some reason, I chose to burn myself.
What are some moments in your life when you listened to the wrong voice? When have you literally or metaphorically burned yourself?
What is it about those words? As spectators, we can look into this scene with a critical eye, and judge my friend all we want, but in truth, most of us struggle with listening to that voice of reason residing within us. The voice that says, friendship is more important than this argument. The voice that says, that doughnut is not on your diet and may taste good but will not make you feel good. The voice that says, don't you have things other than watching T.V. that you should be doing? Many times, these voices, these conversations within our brains, are depicted by a devil and an angel. The angel is the voice telling us to be good, and the devil is obviously the tempter, the evil doer, but I disagree with this imagery. I don't think of it as the good and bad within us engaged in a perpetual tug of war, but rather our impulsive, fun-loving, temper-tantrum throwing child-like side against the reasonable, logical, guarded, serious adult. The child within us, never wants to reveal injury, and protects our pride with ferocity, but it also is the voice of fun. It also reminds us that life isn't always about work, but about not just living life but enjoying it. Our serious adult side attempts to keep us in line with the goals that we keep, whether it be our diets, or our academic and/or work goals. In my opinion, I think both voices, the logical voice and the impulsive voice have a valid place in our lives, but sometimes we struggle with which one should be listened to at which point in our lives. The story I'm about to relate is a perfect example of when the child-like side should be thrown by the way-side. Sadly, however, the winner of the tug-o-war was the child-like side resulting in a painful and unnecessary blister.
What are some moments in your life when you listened to the wrong voice? When have you literally or metaphorically burned yourself?
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Yellow Brick Road continued
I am so lost... I'm studying for the GRE, which in itself incredibly intimidating. I'm smart, one might even call me intelligent, but I'm far from brilliant and this test seems like it was created for brilliant peeps. I've spent about 5 hours studying in the past week, and I feel like I'm being badly pummeled. I'm taking the beating because I want to go back to school. I have a degree in Communication Studies from the University of Texas at Austin. It was a fantastic major. I absolutely LOVED my classes. Just about every single one of them. I learned about people, cultures, language and how they all played a critical role in our lives. I loved being at UT, in the top ranked communication programs in the nation. I felt it gave me an edge in the career world.
But so far, I haven't used my degree except in teaching. And my degree is not in education. I'm teaching, not because it's my passion, but because it's a means to an end. We are young, we wanted to travel the world, experience new cultures, and save money and get out of debt so we flew across the world to meet those goals. But our goals are expanding everyday and I've known since I've graduated that I wanted to go back to get a masters degree. I was never one of those students who couldn't wait to graduate. Instead, I wanted to stay in my safe cocoon of academia. It was warm and cozy in there, I understood what was happening. Within the walls of school clear, concise directions and goals had been laid out before me. For my part, all I had to do was to follow. Graduation was not an ecstatic day for me as it is for so many. In fact, I missed my graduation. (I was traveling in Europe) When the day came to walk across a stage in my tasseled scholar hat and cloak, instead of feeling like a warrior going out into the world ready to conquer, I felt the opposite. I felt like a newborn baby being born, torn from the inside of its warm protective mother. I was thrust out of my home of education, a place I had been nourished and coddled for nearly my entire life, and plunged into the "real world." A world with critical issues, inequities, divisive politics and a general "life is unfair, deal with it" attitude. I didn't know what to do with it, so I picked up and ran away. We ran to Chile. I had always wanted to travel, and Chile was an opportunity for me to give back in a way that I had never done before since it was a volunteer program. It was difficult, it was cold and it was life changing. We returned with the objective to teach and make money in Korea. Chile had put us more in debt than school had.
Korea was the land of promise. The land that any foreigner with a degree in hand could teach English in, make money, see a new part of the world and save save save. But we had to get Kyle a degree first. A task that took longer than anticipated, but once it was achieved we were on a plane, together, hand in hand, onto another adventure. We our in threshold of our second year in Korea, and most likely our last. It is a year to save, grow individually by meeting personal goals, and to save for travel and school. I am finally ready to move on to grad school. I'm thrilled, to say the least. I can't wait for school again. Not that I ever really left since I am now a TEACHER at a school.
But I am struggling. I am struggling answering the fundamental question everyone asks themselves, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" And it is a fundamental question that needs a decisive answer for one who is to spend THOUSANDS of dollars on further education. So this is what I have so far...
I've come along way, I think from when I wrote my original post, "The Yellow Brick Road" and my struggle with the quarter life crisis, but I am far from knowing where my path leads. And in all honesty not knowing can be fun. I'm not sure I would want to look into a crystal ball that told me my future because it might spoil the surprise. I'm learning to be present in the moment, to enjoy the days as they come and to enjoy the journey.
But so far, I haven't used my degree except in teaching. And my degree is not in education. I'm teaching, not because it's my passion, but because it's a means to an end. We are young, we wanted to travel the world, experience new cultures, and save money and get out of debt so we flew across the world to meet those goals. But our goals are expanding everyday and I've known since I've graduated that I wanted to go back to get a masters degree. I was never one of those students who couldn't wait to graduate. Instead, I wanted to stay in my safe cocoon of academia. It was warm and cozy in there, I understood what was happening. Within the walls of school clear, concise directions and goals had been laid out before me. For my part, all I had to do was to follow. Graduation was not an ecstatic day for me as it is for so many. In fact, I missed my graduation. (I was traveling in Europe) When the day came to walk across a stage in my tasseled scholar hat and cloak, instead of feeling like a warrior going out into the world ready to conquer, I felt the opposite. I felt like a newborn baby being born, torn from the inside of its warm protective mother. I was thrust out of my home of education, a place I had been nourished and coddled for nearly my entire life, and plunged into the "real world." A world with critical issues, inequities, divisive politics and a general "life is unfair, deal with it" attitude. I didn't know what to do with it, so I picked up and ran away. We ran to Chile. I had always wanted to travel, and Chile was an opportunity for me to give back in a way that I had never done before since it was a volunteer program. It was difficult, it was cold and it was life changing. We returned with the objective to teach and make money in Korea. Chile had put us more in debt than school had.
Korea was the land of promise. The land that any foreigner with a degree in hand could teach English in, make money, see a new part of the world and save save save. But we had to get Kyle a degree first. A task that took longer than anticipated, but once it was achieved we were on a plane, together, hand in hand, onto another adventure. We our in threshold of our second year in Korea, and most likely our last. It is a year to save, grow individually by meeting personal goals, and to save for travel and school. I am finally ready to move on to grad school. I'm thrilled, to say the least. I can't wait for school again. Not that I ever really left since I am now a TEACHER at a school.
But I am struggling. I am struggling answering the fundamental question everyone asks themselves, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" And it is a fundamental question that needs a decisive answer for one who is to spend THOUSANDS of dollars on further education. So this is what I have so far...
- I am a social scientist.
- I love statistics about people. I love learning about how people interact, how they are persuaded, what makes them tick.
- I'm a people person
- I need to work with people. I'm not a behind the desk gal. I need interaction or else I go crazy.
- I want to make a difference
- It's cliche, I know, but we have cliches for a reason. I want to make a difference in the world. I want to know that my being here has been for the greater good.
- I need skills
- although I love the study of people, it only takes a person so far in usefulness. I don't want to be a researcher. I want to be useful, not that researchers are useless, but I don't think it's where I'm meant to be.
- I've been considering business
- not an MBA, but a background in business will expand my possibilities and broaden my perspectives. I'm looking at an MA at Thunderbird in Arizona. It's considered one of the top International schools in the nation. And they have programs for students without backgrounds in business.
- I don't have a lot of experience in business, but I don't think I will be passionate about it though.
- But, Kyle and I would love to have our own businesses some day, and having a business degree would be immensely useful.
- Sustainability
- Recently, I have come to the conclusion I would like a focus on sustainability. Sustainability, with our ever growing world population is a practice that we humans will need to develop more comprehensively if we want to keep from drying up all of our resources and killing ourselves.
- Community
- I have an interest in communities, what bonds them, what creates them, what makes them and powerful. I want a part in growing communities.
- I'm interested in too many things
- I have always loved learning. I could have gone into a lot of fields and have been happy, I think, and so I am having a hard time just choosing one thing to focus on.
- Reputation
- One thing I have been told is important in a school is there reputation amongst their peers. If a school doesn't have a strong reputation or strong network then it doesn't matter how good your education was, the thousand dollar degree on your wall, is not worthwhile.
- Two other schools that I have been researching and considering are: SIT and University of Peace
I've come along way, I think from when I wrote my original post, "The Yellow Brick Road" and my struggle with the quarter life crisis, but I am far from knowing where my path leads. And in all honesty not knowing can be fun. I'm not sure I would want to look into a crystal ball that told me my future because it might spoil the surprise. I'm learning to be present in the moment, to enjoy the days as they come and to enjoy the journey.
The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination. ~ Don Williams Jr.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Bucket List
We had a highly unproductive weekend last weekend. Kyle had a sinus infection so in turn we became sloths. I did get to re-vamp the blog a little if you haven't already notice. Blogger has changed quite a bit and I felt like I was back at square one in the learning curve. I added tabs, which took quite a bit of time. They aren't finished, but feel free to check them out as they took me way too much time to figure out. I felt like my mom, randomly punching buttons until something worked. With some of the new formating of blogger the header wouldn't stay in its designated location, the center. Instead it wandered over to the left side of the screen to check out the buzz over there. Like an unruly child causing much anxiety on my part and probably on Kyle's part when I started yelling in tongues. It took at least one hour of trouble shooting just for that one aspect. My clogged and snotty prince came to the rescue with an HTML code fix and a comb to brush out the Eagle sized birds nest I had developed while anxiety ridden. What do you other bloggers do to learn these tricks. Does it take you HOURS as well, or is that just me?
In other news, Kyle and I started to work on a Bucket List. (Together) There are a few individual items that I will try and mark with our individual initials. Despite Kyle being grumpy because of his achy body and spinning head, it was fun putting this list together. There are more K's than V's, but I think that is because I was writing the list and unless Kyle said, "HECK NO" I included him on the things I wrote down.
In no particular order:
In other news, Kyle and I started to work on a Bucket List. (Together) There are a few individual items that I will try and mark with our individual initials. Despite Kyle being grumpy because of his achy body and spinning head, it was fun putting this list together. There are more K's than V's, but I think that is because I was writing the list and unless Kyle said, "HECK NO" I included him on the things I wrote down.
In no particular order:
1. Become fluent in Spanish
2. Do something nice for parents
3. Run a half marathon (V) and run a full marathon (K)
4. See a pink dolphin
5. See a tornado (K)
6. Make a quilt from old t-shirts
7. Learn how to sew better
8. Learn the Piano
9. Train my vocal cords to sound like singing
10. Make a wicked Haunted House for Halloween
11. Hold a monkey or Koala
12. Publish a novel
13. Shoot a bazooka (k)
14. Design and have our own house built
15. Help at least one person in a significant way
16. Give $1million to charity
17. See the Northern Lights
18. Scuba dive in the Great Barrier Reef
19. Go to the Galapagos Islands
20. See Victoria Falls
21. See Niagra Falls
22. See the Grand Canyon
23. Travel Asia
24. Visit the Pyramids in Egypt
25. Camp in Big Bend Texas
26. Go to the Festival of Colors in India
27. See the Golden Gate Bridge
28. See Bob Dylan and/or Willy Nelson in concert (K)
29. Own a beach home
30. Become financially literate
31. Become financially free
32. Raise a happy and healthy family
33. Create an inviting home
34. Own and breed dogs
35. Meet a distant relative
36. Go on a safari
37. Have a wrap-around porch
38. Host Christmas
39. Own a peace maker (k)
40. Collect on of every class of sword and 100 knives (k)
41. Try a truffle
42. Milk a cow
43. Own goats/sheeps or alpacas (This was a surprise by Kyle)
44. Be a professor
45. Start or working closely with a charity
46. Have a ranch house (I guess this goes along with the goats thing)
47. Have a carbon neutral or positive home
48. Meet Bono (K)
49. Have an art show
50. See the Great Wall of China
51. See the Kremlin in Russia
52. Experience weightlessness
53. Ride the 10 best rollercoasters of the world
54. Go skydiving (V)
55. Learn a martial art
56. Have a black belt (K)
57. Have a concealed handgun license
58. Ride in a hot air balloon (v)
59. Be a lead in a community theater play (v)
60. Own a 1957 Chevy sky blue convertible corvette (k)
61. Discover my perfect job/career
62. Invent something
63. Figure out how to work only part time
64. Scuba in Hawaii
65. Island hop in a sailboat
66. See a blue whale
67. Visit all 7 continents.
68. See the Taj Mahal.
69. Get a graduate degree (v)
70. Own our own business and/or restaurant.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I've been promoted!...I think....
As of last Friday, I (Kyle) am now the Foreign Teacher Coordinator here at the Village. The guy that held the position previously finally cracked and went streaking across the campus. ;) Just kidding! Or am I... So now the mantle has been passed down to me to be the beacon of hope and sanity in the swirling chaos that is English Village. My task is rather simple but no easy cross to bear.
Job 1; Get info from Korean Admin and convey it to the Foreign Teachers in such a way that it prevents rioting.
Job 2; Get "feedback" from the Foreign Teachers and convey it to the Koreans in such a way that it prevents tears and bloodshed.
Job 3; When needed, inform Foreign Teachers that they are being scheduled to work overtime and that they will be compensated with hours instead of pay. Then endure the cursing and yelling that follows and let the Administration know when the Foreign Teacher has declined the work.
Other than that, it's kind of up to me to decide what else can be done to make life easier for all of us. Essentially, KEEP THE FOREIGN STAFF HAPPY!!!
I'm excited and a bit overwhelmed but We'll see how I do.
Job 1; Get info from Korean Admin and convey it to the Foreign Teachers in such a way that it prevents rioting.
Job 2; Get "feedback" from the Foreign Teachers and convey it to the Koreans in such a way that it prevents tears and bloodshed.
Job 3; When needed, inform Foreign Teachers that they are being scheduled to work overtime and that they will be compensated with hours instead of pay. Then endure the cursing and yelling that follows and let the Administration know when the Foreign Teacher has declined the work.
Other than that, it's kind of up to me to decide what else can be done to make life easier for all of us. Essentially, KEEP THE FOREIGN STAFF HAPPY!!!
I'm excited and a bit overwhelmed but We'll see how I do.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
So close to success!
Tuesday, Kyle woke up with a fire beneath his behind. As his wife, I often times, am the party most likely to kindle flame to motivate his occasionally slow moving gigantic hobbit feet into action, however, he needed no pushing from me this particular morning. And, it was a GOOD thing; some might even say, a miracle that he called UT (University of Texas) Tuesday. Why? Because Wednesday was the deadline for submitting an application for graduation. Who Knew? Not us!
He had actually already submitted an application but because of some issues which I wont go into because honestly, it's just plain mind numbing to explain, it wasn't valid. Sooooo... the lady on the phone told him that he needed to get in his transcript from Texas State (where he took his final Spanish classes which by the way was the only thing keeping him from being a graduate) in by Wed. at 3pm. Kyle took his final test on the previous Friday and often times he didn't receive a grade for at least a week, but he called and pleaded, and low and behold, his professor graded his test within a few hours of his beseeching, and we were in the car, on our way to Texas State to pick up his transcript to take to UT in the morning as we had to meet with the adviser at 8:45 am the next morning. And if you know ANYTHING about Austin traffic, you are aware of it's lifeless movement in the morning, afternoon, also sometimes at midnight and on occasion at 4 am and well really basically at all times of day depending on the shadow of the moon on the Earth. So..., we solicited friends at the last possible moment so that we could save a tank of gas and a massive migraine whilst dealing with what might be considered equivalent to Chinese torture, Austin traffic in the morning.
Success! Texas State Transcript received!
Non success: San Antonio College Transcript not received, leaving Kyle without the adequate number of hours.
Success! he was allowed to apply for graduation.
Non success: We do not currently have a piece of paper which will pass as a prerequisite to a diploma until SAC's transcript is received.
Success! The lady on the phone told Kyle, it was basically impossible for him to get it all done before the deadline, and when he called to tell her that we were on our way, she was dumbfounded to which Kyle responded, "I know, I have been a RockSTAR!"
In short- the trip was very successful, but not as successful as we hoped. But we are far from despairing. We are hopeful, that by Monday, all should be solved! We are so very very close, I can taste it! YAY for Kyle being a ROCKSTAR!!!
He had actually already submitted an application but because of some issues which I wont go into because honestly, it's just plain mind numbing to explain, it wasn't valid. Sooooo... the lady on the phone told him that he needed to get in his transcript from Texas State (where he took his final Spanish classes which by the way was the only thing keeping him from being a graduate) in by Wed. at 3pm. Kyle took his final test on the previous Friday and often times he didn't receive a grade for at least a week, but he called and pleaded, and low and behold, his professor graded his test within a few hours of his beseeching, and we were in the car, on our way to Texas State to pick up his transcript to take to UT in the morning as we had to meet with the adviser at 8:45 am the next morning. And if you know ANYTHING about Austin traffic, you are aware of it's lifeless movement in the morning, afternoon, also sometimes at midnight and on occasion at 4 am and well really basically at all times of day depending on the shadow of the moon on the Earth. So..., we solicited friends at the last possible moment so that we could save a tank of gas and a massive migraine whilst dealing with what might be considered equivalent to Chinese torture, Austin traffic in the morning.
Success! Texas State Transcript received!
Non success: San Antonio College Transcript not received, leaving Kyle without the adequate number of hours.
Success! he was allowed to apply for graduation.
Non success: We do not currently have a piece of paper which will pass as a prerequisite to a diploma until SAC's transcript is received.
Success! The lady on the phone told Kyle, it was basically impossible for him to get it all done before the deadline, and when he called to tell her that we were on our way, she was dumbfounded to which Kyle responded, "I know, I have been a RockSTAR!"
In short- the trip was very successful, but not as successful as we hoped. But we are far from despairing. We are hopeful, that by Monday, all should be solved! We are so very very close, I can taste it! YAY for Kyle being a ROCKSTAR!!!
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Jealousy is bad
So one of the main things I am trying to work on is being present; present to what is happening now, present to my body, present to my thoughts. I am trying not to live in the past or in what I THOUGHT should have been the future. Living in the present, however, is hard, it is much harder than it seems. Living in the moment means not thinking about how I wish Kyle hadn't lied to me, or how we should have been somewhere else right now, or how I should have gone for a run yesterday. When my mind is filled up with these thoughts, the negative energy is electrifying. So electrifying in fact, that they lightening strike any positive thoughts that try to sneak their way in. Living in the present means throwing some perspective on the matter. What is currently happening is not so bad. I am typing on the computer. My fingers are pressing lightly on the black keyboards as I straighten by back so as not to have the terrible posture I typically keep. My unwashed hair is having a field day sticking straight out in its frizzy way of being in all sorts of directions. 
I probably look like a frazzled school librarian searching for her once again lost glasses. My stomach is beginning to indicate slight vestiges that it is craving nutrients, at least that is how I am interpreting the pains in my gut. If I look at what is, and not what should have been, life isn't the terrible I often interpret it as.
I probably look like a frazzled school librarian searching for her once again lost glasses. My stomach is beginning to indicate slight vestiges that it is craving nutrients, at least that is how I am interpreting the pains in my gut. If I look at what is, and not what should have been, life isn't the terrible I often interpret it as.Triggered by my unwillingness to read blog posts of those whose lives seem seamless and perfectly mirthful, I began writing this blog post as an attempt at an honest look as to why I am choosing not to read certain cheerful excerpts. My first thoughts are, "if their life is so happy, I don't want to hear about it because it will just make me feel worse about myself." Why does others' happiness make me experience a plummet in self-esteem? Why can't I be satisfied with where I am and be joyous of others' good fortune? Why must I covet what I don't have? And if given the chance would I really trade my life with those whose posts I won't read or facebook statuses who are always so very blithe? The answer is NO. I wouldn't trade my life for anything. I love my life. I love my family, I love my friends, I love my husband, and I love our opportunities. So where does this self-opposition come from? Why shouldn't I be satisfied?
Does anyone else have these feelings? Let me be clear. I don't actually wish ill will on anyone, especially those dear ones in my life. Please don't misunderstand this post to mean something that it does not. I honestly and truly wish the best for everyone in my life. What I am struggling with is satisfaction within, and really only sometimes. But I wanted to examine this as I have been doing a lot of candid soul searching lately and pose the question to others, "Is this something that you experience as well? And where does it come from for you?"
Some quotes on envy:
Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own. ~Harold Coffin
Jealousy is the great exaggerator. ~Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, The Conspiracy of Fiesco, 1783
And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not. ~William Shakespeare
Friday, September 25, 2009
My Reaction
I sat stunned into silence, only the steady increase of my heartbeat was audible above my ringing ears. The words "I've been lying to you" bounced like a crazed ping-pong ball against the floorboards, up to the ceiling, grazed the already cracked windshield and round and round the interior of our aging car. Normality and numbness was my reaction. I didn't feel anything, my skin and heart were like leather. A small voice whispered that I should be feeling some sensation at my husbands pivotal confession, but there was nothing, no anger, no shock, no sadness. It's like my body's defense to emotional trauma is to assemble a protective force field against pernicious emotional daggers, and any and all shards of malignant information is dammed out, keeping my heart safe from overload. The force field doesn't stand forever, its durability with time, usually a few hours, deteriorates, allowing fragments to penetrate slowly, rather than at the lethal speed in which it is thrown. I listened to my husband, a man I thought I knew through and through as one of the most honest people I had ever met, admit he had lied not about one thing, but about many many things, small things, important things, and trivial things. He had lied to me, not at the start of our marriage, but from the beginning of our relationship. And it wasn't one lie, but many. Lies that caused us to be on different continents for over half a year, separated and lonely for each others company. And trivial lies such as the time he didn't answer his phone for three days. When I finally spoke with him, he told me this elaborate, creative story of how he ran out of gas on the highway, and was robbed, and then had to return when the police found the stolen merchandise and then he had to go to the emergency room because he got dehydrated, when really he hadn't answered my call because he felt guilty about lying to me and couldn't face me, and then had to think of a reasonable excuse for not answering my phone calls.
"I'm not proud of it, but I will answer any questions you have. I will tell you the truth about every lie I have ever told because I am committed to having a truly open relationship with you. I want you to see the man I am being and not the man I was in the past." He said to me, holding my hands tightly, determinedly maintaining eye contact.
When the splinters finally broke my emotional force field, the pain seared my heart. I found myself unable to look at the man I promised to love and cherish till I die. Kyle broke his vows to me when he lied nearly every day of our relationship. How could a man whom I trusted so wholly with my heart have hidden this from me for so long? A man who lies to his wife surly doesn't love her, nor respect her. And what did that make me? A naive, gullible victim?
It took me a while, to wade through the torrent of emotions whirling like an unstoppable F5 tornado through my body, but I was able to grab at some of the more important ones. Who said that Kyle doesn't love me or respect me? The fact is, Kyle lied because he was afraid of the world and what they would think of him. What part of that fact implies that Kyle didn't love me? His lies had nothing to do with his respect or love of me, and solely to do with Kyle's feelings about himself and his self worth. He had lied to me because in his twisted logic, that was the only way he knew would keep me. He loved me, he showed me through his doting and affectionate actions every day. He had lied to keep himself protected from harm, but his love was true, and Kyle's being, the man I loved, was still there.
I asked questions, lots of questions. I'm still asking questions. And each day, I come to understand more and more that I'll never understand. Because he wasn't coming from a place of reason. When a druggie is looking for a fix, no matter what kind of person they might have been before the drugs, they do anything, even shameful, humiliating things to provide for their hungering addiction. And I think that in the same way drugs are poison and addicting, so is the fear that held Kyle. I am by no means defending his actions because every time I hear a new lie, I am appalled and newly jarred by this deceitful side. But I also realize that what Kyle has admitted to not only his wife but to ALL of his friends and family, the people he had lied to because he was afraid of losing their love and respect took astounding bravery. What Kyle did takes guts, more than just a little; his confession takes cajones. He is standing up and admitting to the world his faults, and taking what comes and I applaud him.
For a time, I was afraid that I wasn't going to be able to feel proud of Kyle because of his past, but I realize now that I am SO proud of who he is being and what he is doing now to make up for his wrong doings. I have now come to understand that Kyle's confession of his wrongdoings are evidence that he is a man who values the worth of his integrity. By his admission, he was risking losing me, but with the prospect of having an authentic relationship with his wife, rather than an empty one based in lies and deceit. His proclamation was proof of how much he valued and respected his relationships, especially our marriage.
Each day, I can see the real Kyle glimmer just a little brighter. The shame of lying imprisons, and now that he has unlocked his chains, his brightness is glowing more and more iridescent. His presence alludes an infectiously positive attitude and any fear of mine of being ashamed has been shoved aside. His lies were never out of malice, but a protective mechanism. I believe that his lying days are over because I see the freedom the truth has given him. Kyle Rogers is an amazing person, and although what he did in the past was hurtful, it is in the past. The past is the past is the past, and that is where it should stay. All we have is the present, and we shouldn't allow our past to interfere. My pride for my husband is inundating and amazingly, despite what I might have considered illogical in the past, I find myself falling more head over heals in love with him every day. Thank you to all of you who have shown your love and support through all of this. I can't tell you how much it means to both of us. Truly we are so very blessed.
(Some people may be surprised that we are broadcasting this very personal matter on such a public forum, and I want to explain a little why. Kyle valued re-gaining his integrity more so than losing a little pride, and I felt it necessary to throw my support behind my husband and assure any interested friends and family that we remain committed to our relationship and marriage. And that although this has been difficult, we felt that being open and honest with everyone in our lives was more important and felt less shameful than keeping this matter quiet.)
"I'm not proud of it, but I will answer any questions you have. I will tell you the truth about every lie I have ever told because I am committed to having a truly open relationship with you. I want you to see the man I am being and not the man I was in the past." He said to me, holding my hands tightly, determinedly maintaining eye contact.
When the splinters finally broke my emotional force field, the pain seared my heart. I found myself unable to look at the man I promised to love and cherish till I die. Kyle broke his vows to me when he lied nearly every day of our relationship. How could a man whom I trusted so wholly with my heart have hidden this from me for so long? A man who lies to his wife surly doesn't love her, nor respect her. And what did that make me? A naive, gullible victim?
It took me a while, to wade through the torrent of emotions whirling like an unstoppable F5 tornado through my body, but I was able to grab at some of the more important ones. Who said that Kyle doesn't love me or respect me? The fact is, Kyle lied because he was afraid of the world and what they would think of him. What part of that fact implies that Kyle didn't love me? His lies had nothing to do with his respect or love of me, and solely to do with Kyle's feelings about himself and his self worth. He had lied to me because in his twisted logic, that was the only way he knew would keep me. He loved me, he showed me through his doting and affectionate actions every day. He had lied to keep himself protected from harm, but his love was true, and Kyle's being, the man I loved, was still there.
I asked questions, lots of questions. I'm still asking questions. And each day, I come to understand more and more that I'll never understand. Because he wasn't coming from a place of reason. When a druggie is looking for a fix, no matter what kind of person they might have been before the drugs, they do anything, even shameful, humiliating things to provide for their hungering addiction. And I think that in the same way drugs are poison and addicting, so is the fear that held Kyle. I am by no means defending his actions because every time I hear a new lie, I am appalled and newly jarred by this deceitful side. But I also realize that what Kyle has admitted to not only his wife but to ALL of his friends and family, the people he had lied to because he was afraid of losing their love and respect took astounding bravery. What Kyle did takes guts, more than just a little; his confession takes cajones. He is standing up and admitting to the world his faults, and taking what comes and I applaud him.
For a time, I was afraid that I wasn't going to be able to feel proud of Kyle because of his past, but I realize now that I am SO proud of who he is being and what he is doing now to make up for his wrong doings. I have now come to understand that Kyle's confession of his wrongdoings are evidence that he is a man who values the worth of his integrity. By his admission, he was risking losing me, but with the prospect of having an authentic relationship with his wife, rather than an empty one based in lies and deceit. His proclamation was proof of how much he valued and respected his relationships, especially our marriage.
Each day, I can see the real Kyle glimmer just a little brighter. The shame of lying imprisons, and now that he has unlocked his chains, his brightness is glowing more and more iridescent. His presence alludes an infectiously positive attitude and any fear of mine of being ashamed has been shoved aside. His lies were never out of malice, but a protective mechanism. I believe that his lying days are over because I see the freedom the truth has given him. Kyle Rogers is an amazing person, and although what he did in the past was hurtful, it is in the past. The past is the past is the past, and that is where it should stay. All we have is the present, and we shouldn't allow our past to interfere. My pride for my husband is inundating and amazingly, despite what I might have considered illogical in the past, I find myself falling more head over heals in love with him every day. Thank you to all of you who have shown your love and support through all of this. I can't tell you how much it means to both of us. Truly we are so very blessed.
(Some people may be surprised that we are broadcasting this very personal matter on such a public forum, and I want to explain a little why. Kyle valued re-gaining his integrity more so than losing a little pride, and I felt it necessary to throw my support behind my husband and assure any interested friends and family that we remain committed to our relationship and marriage. And that although this has been difficult, we felt that being open and honest with everyone in our lives was more important and felt less shameful than keeping this matter quiet.)
Friday, July 17, 2009
Surprise!
Some of you may know this by now as the cat's been let out of the bag, but for those of you still in the dark, I AM HOME. Home as in Texas. No one get toooo excited as this is not a permanent move back home, but I will most likely be here for a few months. So to answer some of your questions:
What!!??:
Being away from your husband for 7 months is WAY too long. I love my husband and never wanted to be away from him for even a day and it was decided that we should no longer be apart.
Wait.. Why?:
Basically the school said that they could no longer hold Kyle's position for him and their wouldn't be another opening until probably October, maybe earlier. I sat down one day to discuss my expiring contract with my boss one morning when she broke the news. I could either choose voluntarily to be without my husband for three months or I could leave at the end of my contract which was the following week.
Who did you tell?
Kyle and people at my school. But because it all happened so fast, and unexpectedly, we decided to keep mum about it and surprise the folks at home. SURPRISE!
How did it feel seeing Kyle for the first time?
Honestly, it was really weird. You know the feeling when you look in a mirror and you don't recognize yourself, that was what it was like seeing Kyle for the first time when I was stepping off the plane. He seemed almost like a stranger to me, a stranger that I non-the-less couldn't stop kissing or hugging and wouldn't let go of. I had seen him several times a week when we would use skype so it wasn't as if I hadn't seen his new hair cut (which is SHORT) or didn't remember what he looked like, but seeing someone on a computer screen and seeing someone in real life are two entirely different things.
How do you feel?
I was excited coming home to Kyle and I am glad to see family and friends, but in all honesty, I feel emotionally numb. It wasn't how I wanted things to work out and I don't think I felt emotionally prepared for it all. The last time we unexpectedly had to come home for Grandma Dee Dee's funeral, I felt the same way, dulled, like my nerves had been shocked into submission.
How was your flight?
Excruciatingly long. I bought the ticket less than a week before departure so it was a)more expensive than I would have liked and b) had two layovers both 4 hours long! I left the school at 7:30am Monday morning in a taxi to get the airport bus for my 11:30 am flight. I arrived in San Antonio at 11:30 pm Monday evening which was the equivalent to 1:30 pm Tuesday in South Korea. So that is approx. 30 hours of traveling. But I was thankful for the most part that there few hiccups except for on the last stretch. My last flight was delayed for two hours because a coffee maker was leaking? And after we landed, I met with my stranger husband, we had gathered my bags and got in the car he handed me what looked similar to my baggage claim but he didn't tell me what it was, and I didn't ask, as I was a)exhausted and b) a little distracted reacquainting with my husband. However when we pulled up to the gate to pay the parking fee, Kyle asked me where I put the ticket. I had a vague memory of putting it in the car handle, but it was no longer there and was no where to be found. So we backed up and searched for it for a good ten minutes. I mean I didn't eat the ticket so I don't know where it could have gone. We decided after a long and fruitless search that we would pay the lost ticket fee. But... the insurance card and drivers license didn't match which is required for paying the lost ticket fee. They told us that we could call the owner but Kyle's phone isn't working and they wouldn't let us use their phone. "I can't let you take this vehicle out of this parking lot." said the unhelpful supervisor who then proceeded to go inside to play solitaire rather than try to help us. We looked some more throughout the car and on the pavement but after another ten minutes decided to try our luck again with a different agent whom luckily didn't noticed the name discrepancy and let us through, nearly an hour after I had arrived.
What!!??:
Being away from your husband for 7 months is WAY too long. I love my husband and never wanted to be away from him for even a day and it was decided that we should no longer be apart.
Wait.. Why?:
Basically the school said that they could no longer hold Kyle's position for him and their wouldn't be another opening until probably October, maybe earlier. I sat down one day to discuss my expiring contract with my boss one morning when she broke the news. I could either choose voluntarily to be without my husband for three months or I could leave at the end of my contract which was the following week.
Who did you tell?
Kyle and people at my school. But because it all happened so fast, and unexpectedly, we decided to keep mum about it and surprise the folks at home. SURPRISE!
How did it feel seeing Kyle for the first time?
Honestly, it was really weird. You know the feeling when you look in a mirror and you don't recognize yourself, that was what it was like seeing Kyle for the first time when I was stepping off the plane. He seemed almost like a stranger to me, a stranger that I non-the-less couldn't stop kissing or hugging and wouldn't let go of. I had seen him several times a week when we would use skype so it wasn't as if I hadn't seen his new hair cut (which is SHORT) or didn't remember what he looked like, but seeing someone on a computer screen and seeing someone in real life are two entirely different things.
How do you feel?
I was excited coming home to Kyle and I am glad to see family and friends, but in all honesty, I feel emotionally numb. It wasn't how I wanted things to work out and I don't think I felt emotionally prepared for it all. The last time we unexpectedly had to come home for Grandma Dee Dee's funeral, I felt the same way, dulled, like my nerves had been shocked into submission.
How was your flight?
Excruciatingly long. I bought the ticket less than a week before departure so it was a)more expensive than I would have liked and b) had two layovers both 4 hours long! I left the school at 7:30am Monday morning in a taxi to get the airport bus for my 11:30 am flight. I arrived in San Antonio at 11:30 pm Monday evening which was the equivalent to 1:30 pm Tuesday in South Korea. So that is approx. 30 hours of traveling. But I was thankful for the most part that there few hiccups except for on the last stretch. My last flight was delayed for two hours because a coffee maker was leaking? And after we landed, I met with my stranger husband, we had gathered my bags and got in the car he handed me what looked similar to my baggage claim but he didn't tell me what it was, and I didn't ask, as I was a)exhausted and b) a little distracted reacquainting with my husband. However when we pulled up to the gate to pay the parking fee, Kyle asked me where I put the ticket. I had a vague memory of putting it in the car handle, but it was no longer there and was no where to be found. So we backed up and searched for it for a good ten minutes. I mean I didn't eat the ticket so I don't know where it could have gone. We decided after a long and fruitless search that we would pay the lost ticket fee. But... the insurance card and drivers license didn't match which is required for paying the lost ticket fee. They told us that we could call the owner but Kyle's phone isn't working and they wouldn't let us use their phone. "I can't let you take this vehicle out of this parking lot." said the unhelpful supervisor who then proceeded to go inside to play solitaire rather than try to help us. We looked some more throughout the car and on the pavement but after another ten minutes decided to try our luck again with a different agent whom luckily didn't noticed the name discrepancy and let us through, nearly an hour after I had arrived.
What are you plans?
We are trying to find a cheap get away for the two of us for the short term, any suggestions anyone? And as for the long term, that is undetermined.
Our first picture taken together since being back. We went to see Harry Potter, can you tell?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
My life is so swampy right now!
This is what I look like right now! IT'S TRUE!!!
Ok gang, I know it’s been forever and a DECADE since I last wrote a post and I am sorry. I wish I had some good excuse to give you like; I’ve been soooo busy earning a living (hardly even close to true), or I have just been so tied up with all of my super creative endeavors that I just lose track of time what with my painting and poetry. The truth is, I’ve had the time. Not gonna lie about it. The problem I have is that I have become such an overly avoidant procrastinator that I seem to go out of my to avoid avoiding whatever it is I plan on doing tomorrow! HOWEVER, for some unknown reason which my wife has had absolutely no part in (wink) I feel compelled to write you all now with an update and a few mental antipasti I’ve been cookin up these past few weeks. Bon apetite!
Update: “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” A wonderful expression that in my mind conjures images of a large shiny boulder, truckin it’s way down a sunny hillside path, waving at the passing tree’s and crushing the obstacles in its path. Here’s another way to phrase it that’s a little bit more in line with how I’ve been feeling lately; “a sitting stone bakes in the blistering sun till night falls when creepy demons lurk in its shadow and gross stuff starts to grow on it as each day passes until after years and years of the same bird crapping on the top, the roots and bird crap eat away to its core and slowly crumble it apart from the inside out till there’s nothing left but dust!!! A little dramatic I suppose but that’s all I’ve got in my life right now guys! Ok, that’s not true. I have wonderful friends and family that care about me very much and lately, I can’t tell you how much I have appreciated the concern and the company. All joking aside, yes, I am extremely frustrated with the situation and yes, I feel as though Van’s and my life has hit a metaphorical Great Wall of China, but I’m doing what I can to stay busy and while I don’t seem to be handling things as well as I had hoped I would, CUT ME SOME FRIKIN SLACK, I’ve been apart from my wife for 6 damn months, I can’t get a steady job cause NO ONE is hiring part time, and I’m sick of being a 25 year old dependent FFS!!! OK, rant over, whining done. Truth is, things could be so much worse for us right now and we constantly have to remind ourselves of that fact when either of us is having a hard time dealing. Here are a few things I’ve been thinking about recently as I trudge through this mucky swamp.
Mental Antipasti: Concerning expectations: It recently dawned on me that part of the reason people get so depressed is that we get up every morning with the expectation that things will not have changed. My Visa situation will still not be resolved, I will still weigh 20 lbs. more than I would like and I will still be just as avoidant as I have always been. Then one morning, for whatever reason a cat decides to wake you just as the sun is rising by licking the inside of your nostrils. He looks into your soul and says telepathically; “didn’t see that one coming did you stupid?” and as he struts off with that smug, holier than thou cat ambivalence, you remember that each day starts with infinite possibilities. Thank you QT. Thank you.
Concerning affection: We are all aware that most societies, including ours, dictate that men be rocks when it comes to emotional expression. Things seem to slowly be changing in this department and I don’t think it’s any secret that Rogers men never seem to have gotten that memo. Recently though, I have begun to notice something about myself that I hadn’t realized before. I need affection. My emotional instability has caused me to withdraw a bit from my social interactions, as I’m sure many of you have noticed and that, coupled with not having my wife to gushy with has made me realize just how important affection is to me. Every hand I shake seems more important, every hug seems more endearing. On an analytical level, I realize that what I might truly be missing is the reinforcement of other peoples love for me, and I’m sure that that’s true but I’ve never realized just how comforting it can be to get close to the ones you love.
I’ve got more I wanna share, but let’s be honest; if I make this post any longer, I’d lose half my audience!
Love you all!
P.S. Phone status is sketchy at best at the moment so please shoot me emails if you need/want to get in touch. I’m trying to get better about communicating guys, I really am!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Reading troubles
I love to read. I love to read so much so that I willingly admit to the nickname "bookworm." There is just something about curling up with a good book. You can enter into a world all on your own, using your own imagination to guide you. Growing up my favorite books were R.L. Stein thrillers and anything to do with the paranormal. I loved the thrill and the spookiness that only a mystery can provide. I then moved to mystery novels, my mother's book of choice. She would read a mystery and then hand it off to me. It got to the point where I never expected any other type of genre from her.
She once handed me a book called "The India Fan" by Victoria Holts. A few days later she asked how I was enjoying it. I explained that it was good however, the murder was taking a while, as I was 100 pages into it and no one had died yet. Come to find out, it wasn't a murder mystery which is why no murder had taken place. We couldn't stop laughing about that for days.
I graduated from murder mysteries in high school, when my book of choice centered around classics like "Gone with the Wind," "Jane Eyre" and "Pride and Prejudice." I found these types of books more rewarding than the easily predictable, choreographed murder mysteries I had grown up on.
Since arriving in South Korea, I have read around 13 books, however recently I have found I've lost my reading zone. The desire to pick up a book as escaped me. This might be a great title for a book "The Mystery of the Fallen Avid Reader," except that the mystery isn't that difficult to solve making the book a bit too short for my liking. Directly after I had plowed through some really wonderful books, I decided to pick up a classic I had been wanting to read for a while, "Catch 22." I didn't know much about the book except that it was a MUST read as it was a classic. However I hated it, ok that might be too strong of a word, strongly disliked it. And I can't say that about many books. There are few books that I refuse to finish, but "Catch 22" is one of them. The book is about the absurdity of war, but every character is insane in the book and no one makes any sense intentionally. I couldn't follow what was going on and 70 pages in I threw the book down in disgust. The next book I picked up was "Beloved" by Toni Morrison becuase it was in our community bookshelf and had raving reviews. However, I found the writing style bizarre. Let me clarify, I like interesting writing and I love metaphorical writing, but this book reminded me of reading Faulkner. WHAT IS GOING ON? Something about a baby haunting a house and a possessed wedding dress, and a tree growing out of scars from the ladies back. WHAT?? And that was it, two books in a row that I couldn't finish and I didn't pick up another book for a month. Has this ever happened to you? I know I can't be the only one. What books have you not been able to finish?
Recently however, I made a decision to climb out of my reading slump by picking up an easy, fun, pink, chick book that a friend lent me called "Can you keep a secret?" by Sophi Kinsella. It's kind of like reading a bad chick flick. Seriously, I don't think I have ever read a chick flick book quite as bad and as corny as this one, but it's entertaining and most importantly it got me back into the zone so I plan to finish it just because I need to finish something I start even if it is turning my mind to mush.
So that's the end of my tradgic reading troubles, two books I couldn't finish and the unlikely book hero that saved the day!
(If you ever want to keep up with what I am reading, you can click down below on my Shelfari book shelf. It is this great website that allows you to share which books you are reading or have read with friends and family. The thing I love about it is that I can keep track of what books I have read and what books I want to read in the future. If you love reading as much as I do, or even just a little, you can check it out and select me as your friend. )
She once handed me a book called "The India Fan" by Victoria Holts. A few days later she asked how I was enjoying it. I explained that it was good however, the murder was taking a while, as I was 100 pages into it and no one had died yet. Come to find out, it wasn't a murder mystery which is why no murder had taken place. We couldn't stop laughing about that for days.
I graduated from murder mysteries in high school, when my book of choice centered around classics like "Gone with the Wind," "Jane Eyre" and "Pride and Prejudice." I found these types of books more rewarding than the easily predictable, choreographed murder mysteries I had grown up on.
Since arriving in South Korea, I have read around 13 books, however recently I have found I've lost my reading zone. The desire to pick up a book as escaped me. This might be a great title for a book "The Mystery of the Fallen Avid Reader," except that the mystery isn't that difficult to solve making the book a bit too short for my liking. Directly after I had plowed through some really wonderful books, I decided to pick up a classic I had been wanting to read for a while, "Catch 22." I didn't know much about the book except that it was a MUST read as it was a classic. However I hated it, ok that might be too strong of a word, strongly disliked it. And I can't say that about many books. There are few books that I refuse to finish, but "Catch 22" is one of them. The book is about the absurdity of war, but every character is insane in the book and no one makes any sense intentionally. I couldn't follow what was going on and 70 pages in I threw the book down in disgust. The next book I picked up was "Beloved" by Toni Morrison becuase it was in our community bookshelf and had raving reviews. However, I found the writing style bizarre. Let me clarify, I like interesting writing and I love metaphorical writing, but this book reminded me of reading Faulkner. WHAT IS GOING ON? Something about a baby haunting a house and a possessed wedding dress, and a tree growing out of scars from the ladies back. WHAT?? And that was it, two books in a row that I couldn't finish and I didn't pick up another book for a month. Has this ever happened to you? I know I can't be the only one. What books have you not been able to finish?
Recently however, I made a decision to climb out of my reading slump by picking up an easy, fun, pink, chick book that a friend lent me called "Can you keep a secret?" by Sophi Kinsella. It's kind of like reading a bad chick flick. Seriously, I don't think I have ever read a chick flick book quite as bad and as corny as this one, but it's entertaining and most importantly it got me back into the zone so I plan to finish it just because I need to finish something I start even if it is turning my mind to mush.
So that's the end of my tradgic reading troubles, two books I couldn't finish and the unlikely book hero that saved the day!
(If you ever want to keep up with what I am reading, you can click down below on my Shelfari book shelf. It is this great website that allows you to share which books you are reading or have read with friends and family. The thing I love about it is that I can keep track of what books I have read and what books I want to read in the future. If you love reading as much as I do, or even just a little, you can check it out and select me as your friend. )
Sunday, June 14, 2009
My day so far
(painting by Caroline Wang)What have I done today? Absolutely nothing!
What have I done so far on my day off... here is the list of events so that you can grasp the severity of the word "nada"
12:01 am (before going to bed since it is 10 am at home Sunday)- Called my dad because I thought it was Father's day. Turns out I was wrong- that doesn't happen very often :) But as he didn't answer, I didn't make too much of a donkey out of myself by saying "happy father's day" on the wrong Sunday. But hey, I am out of the country, I have more of an excuse as they don't have Father's day here.
Night- Dreaming about escaping from zombies. Maybe that is a sign I watch too many zombie movies.
10:00 am- wake up with good intentions. I put on work out clothes, ate an energy bar, told Kyle I was going to call him later when I had finished with my run. Let my food settle while checking my email.
10:15- stomach hurts a tad- that run is going to have to wait
10:20- now it hurts worse. I know, I will lay back down for a short time and then go for my run.
10:40- put my sleep mask on, sleep is impossible with all of that sunlight! I know I was just going to lay down and not actually sleep, but sometimes your body just says "go to sleep" and you have to listen. Run? What run?
11:30- oops, time for lunch. I guess I will have to wait even longer for that run. I will just wear my stinky work out clothes all day for motivation until I go for the run.
12:00- Wow! Lunch was unappetizing. I basically just ate two fried eggs and rice. I really want to eat some chocolate now, but I have nothing to reward myself for yet. Now I really have to go for that run so I can eat chocolate!
12:30- chat with Kyle over skype. "How did your run go honey?" "what run?" Ha!
1:00 -thinking about what to blog about. I could blog about the baseball game we went to yesterday, but that would take too much energy and creative juices. I could write about how I made blackened banana bread in our funky extremely frustrating oven microwave. I would rather just write about how I can't get my lazy butt out of my bed to do anything productive.
Plans for the remainder of the day:
Obviously go for a run....
eat chocolate after run
possibly clean my room
write people emails
watch a movie!
Yeps sounds fantastic!
(Painting by Adam Rote)Update**
- I went for the run around 8:30 at night after spending nearly the entire day doing nothing
- directly following the run ate cheese and crackers while sipping on wine on the balcony (with a piece of chocolate)
-emailed some but not all (sorry grandmother, I will email you soon!)
- did NOT clean my room :(
- I went for the run around 8:30 at night after spending nearly the entire day doing nothing
- directly following the run ate cheese and crackers while sipping on wine on the balcony (with a piece of chocolate)
-emailed some but not all (sorry grandmother, I will email you soon!)
- did NOT clean my room :(
Thursday, June 04, 2009
The bird that wont stop squawking
I concede I may not be the most patient person in the world. Some individuals may even choose not to use the words patient and Vanessa together in the same sentence fearing that a confusion of a tight-bonded relationship might be misconstrued. I am painfully aware of my lack of patience, but I would like to make the case for another quality which I DO posses which I see as equally beneficial; tolerance. I may not have an abundance of patience but I am tolerant, laid back even. Don't get me wrong, I will get angry, but in general, I let most things that I find irritating slide like melting butter down my back. An unlucky few people have seen my claws unleashed, and to those I apologize, but those few times are greatly out-numbered by the many incidents that could have been disastrous situations.
I mention this now, because I have recently encountered an arch-nemesis and my tolerance which is normally high as I mentioned above has been depleted. This arch-nemesis has come in a wickedly clever disguise for he is part of nature, something for which I have a deep love. He is a bird, but don't be deceived by the images that flood your mind when you think of little adorable love birds, this monstrosity which happens to also have wings is the most annoying bird to grace this planet. Normally I love the sounds of birds chirping, their calls are soothing and musical, but my bird, my villain's call is a far cry from soothing, rather his call is grating, like metal against metal or nails on a chalkboard. The noise he makes reminds me of a broken wheel on a cart such as you would find in the grocery store, high pitched and repetitive. It is an agonizing sound which sends shivers down your back. It is right at that level in the sound spectrum that is close to unbearable and feels as if someone is repeatedly jabbing my eardrum with a searing red-hot poker. It is something that you might try to ignore in the beginning, but as you continue to push the cart and hear that irritating, ear-numbing noise over and over and over again, you realize that the sound is slowly sending you over the brink of insanity. At least with a push cart, you can choose to switch carts once the noise gets to be too much for one person's ear to handle, but he lives outside my room, he has invaded my personal space. I have dreams, nay fantasies of loading a shotgun and shooting him from his perch. I have never even seen with my eyes my tormentor but I imagine that he is an ugly, oily rodent with wings and blood red, squinty and harassing eyes. I know what your thinking. You think that I am displacing my anger of our (kyle's and mine) tiring and frustrating situation on a poor innocent bird. And that could possibly be true, but if you woke up to this bird's high pitched screeching at 6 am in the morning, only to hear it again at lunch time every day, you might go a little bonkers and have violent, unwarranted fantasies as well.
I wish I could tell you exactly what kind of bird he is so that you might give me suggestions as to how to be rid of him without a violent crime, but I have never seen the pest, only heard him. However, any suggestions would be appreciated.
Below is my attempt at trying to record his screeching. There are two things to keep in mind, a) excuse my face, it looks awful as I had just broken out, b) the noise is not as loud in the recording as it is in real life.
I mention this now, because I have recently encountered an arch-nemesis and my tolerance which is normally high as I mentioned above has been depleted. This arch-nemesis has come in a wickedly clever disguise for he is part of nature, something for which I have a deep love. He is a bird, but don't be deceived by the images that flood your mind when you think of little adorable love birds, this monstrosity which happens to also have wings is the most annoying bird to grace this planet. Normally I love the sounds of birds chirping, their calls are soothing and musical, but my bird, my villain's call is a far cry from soothing, rather his call is grating, like metal against metal or nails on a chalkboard. The noise he makes reminds me of a broken wheel on a cart such as you would find in the grocery store, high pitched and repetitive. It is an agonizing sound which sends shivers down your back. It is right at that level in the sound spectrum that is close to unbearable and feels as if someone is repeatedly jabbing my eardrum with a searing red-hot poker. It is something that you might try to ignore in the beginning, but as you continue to push the cart and hear that irritating, ear-numbing noise over and over and over again, you realize that the sound is slowly sending you over the brink of insanity. At least with a push cart, you can choose to switch carts once the noise gets to be too much for one person's ear to handle, but he lives outside my room, he has invaded my personal space. I have dreams, nay fantasies of loading a shotgun and shooting him from his perch. I have never even seen with my eyes my tormentor but I imagine that he is an ugly, oily rodent with wings and blood red, squinty and harassing eyes. I know what your thinking. You think that I am displacing my anger of our (kyle's and mine) tiring and frustrating situation on a poor innocent bird. And that could possibly be true, but if you woke up to this bird's high pitched screeching at 6 am in the morning, only to hear it again at lunch time every day, you might go a little bonkers and have violent, unwarranted fantasies as well.
I wish I could tell you exactly what kind of bird he is so that you might give me suggestions as to how to be rid of him without a violent crime, but I have never seen the pest, only heard him. However, any suggestions would be appreciated.
Below is my attempt at trying to record his screeching. There are two things to keep in mind, a) excuse my face, it looks awful as I had just broken out, b) the noise is not as loud in the recording as it is in real life.
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