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?

Living transiently

I wrote a post a few years past about how since our high school graduation, Kyle and I have lived quite nomadically, living in the same city, state, house, or country for no more than two years in a row.  Starting in college:
'01- Texas Tech
'03- College internship in Orlando, Florida working for the Mouse at Walt Disney World.
'04- UT (Hook 'em) You know the game, studying hard getting those valuable BS's.
Fal '05- Italy study abroad program- AMAZING and Europe Travel
"06- Austin and San Antonio- Yep, we lived in both cities that year.
'07- Chile (teaching English, our first taste of it. I'm kinda surprised we kept teaching after wards)
'08- San Antonio, and a few months in Seattle with my aunt
'09- present- off and on living and teaching in South Korea

We've lived our life in such a manner for a few reasons, one being that we like adventure. We're young, and we're lucky enough not to have ropes hitching us to anyone location.  There's something so thrilling about visiting a new place.  It's kind of like being a child again, feeling aware of the entire world around you rather than just walking through it like a ghost.  Every smell, every building, every expression, every sound is novel and titillating.  When you travel, your senses flicker to life, where they had been bored into monotony before.  Life is full of flavor both fascinating, and disgusting.  There's a lot to be said about traveling, living abroad, and seeing the world.
But with everything in life there are downsides as well; nothing is perfection.  Even Italian cream cake, which might seem flawless, isn't perfect for every meal.  If you eat too much of it, you bound not to hold a very pleasing figure for very long.  Our lives, although arguably very exciting, (and lets be honest about excitements, not all are the positive kinds), has definite pitfalls.  One of those pitfalls being the transiency of it all.   Nothing is permanent.  No one is permanent. When purchasing items, it's necessary to consider whether it will be sold, given away, consumed or shipped at the end of the year. You make friends only with the clear understanding, that at the end of the year, sometimes longer, you'll say goodbye, and most of the time forever.  When I first got to Korea, I made some fantastic friends.  Several of those friends have remained here in Korea during the duration of my time here, but our time together is dwindling.  I've said goodbye at this point countless times; so many times that it no longer really throws me for a loop.  People come in Korea, and people go.  That is the how the transient life works. You make friends, they leave, you make more friends, they leave or you leave, and the cycle continues.  Its laboriously frustrating, and painful.  When I make friends, generally, its because the person adds something special to my life, and when they leave, they take their specialty away.  A friend of mine left his weekend.  She's been my most constant, and definitely one of my best friends I've made in this crazy country.  We've kept each other sane.  And now my sanity has sashayed out the door, and I'm left feeling sad about the non-permanence of it all.  We all make decisions in life which lead us down a specific path.  I don't regret the life we've chosen, but it's not always as romantic as it might seem to outsiders and some days I just want normalcy. But then again, I travel partially to escape the normal because its monotony is uninspiring.  As with so many aspects of life, its a double edged sword, but I guess thats what makes life thrilling, or exhausting, depending on your mood or perspective.

On a more positive note, the friends we make and leave behind, generally make travel easier. Those friends who have come in and out of my life also have couches we might one day crash on.  So to all of my friends who have spun through the revolving door of nomadic travels, remember, that where ever I am, you always have a couch, if not a bed to crash upon, and I one day hope in either of our travels, I pray I have the pleasure of seeing you again.

Something's gotta give

Some of you out there might be looking at this statement and saying, "Well, yeah, I told you so." While others of  you might have no idea what I'm talking about.  If you've been following my blog, or our lives you might know by now that I have piled on quite a task load this year.  I made some quite New Year Resolutions, and then I made them public, partially in an effort to keep myself accountable, and partially to make them real goals as opposed to secret goals.  Keeping goals a secret can be useful for instance if your planning a surprise party or are planning on surprise attacking an enemy with water balloons, but when it comes to goal making, in general, telling people helps to consummate those goals into a reality.  The goals I made for myself this year were 1) study for the GRE 2) run a half marathon and 3) finish writing my personal project.  And as is typical in my family, I think it must be genitics, when one of us gets excited about something, we typically have to jump into the pool immediately.  No need bothering with nicities such as learning how to swim, or changing clothes from a sweater to a bathing suite, nope, those things just are barriers to getting to that finish line the fastest.  We get excited, what can I say.  And persistence is a blessing and a curse, depending on who you ask.  Ask my husband that question and he may answer you the later, as he sees my persistence in a different light- aka: annoying  and pestering. Regardless, that is exactly what happened this year.  I got really excited about attaining my goals, and instead of weighing them, and deciding which to begin first, I just dove right into the icy cold pond, and started swimming carrying all three behind me.  There were rocks in the way which I swam around, and blocks of ice with jagged edges, but until I came across the huge polar bear (bear with me on this metaphor, I know its kind of silly) I kept on swimming.  (On a side note, not in a million years would I dive into an icy pond, that is unless someone I loved was drowning, but even then I would probably think twice.  The cold and me, we aren't on great terms) 
What am I saying?  What I'm saying is, that while on the subway, studying the 260 page math section, and calculating how slowly I've made progress, inchworm style, I decided that it was time to let something go. The previous day, we had finished our fifth week of training for the half marathon and had just completed the 7 mile run (or what I hope is seven miles as there isn't really any way to measure the paths we run).  Considering that we run up this one particular hill with an incline made by Lucifer himself which looks like a straight 90 degree rise and I can never actually finish running up it, but have to stop and walk some of the way, it took us about an hour and thirty minutes plus a few.  Studying our schedule, and calculating the amount of time we would continue to have to devote to the training I realized that I had to prioritize and as much as it pained me, I was going to have to postpone the half marathon.  I decided that the half marathon could wait as the deadline for the GRE test was in June before it changes formats and becomes an entirely new test, one that I haven't studied for.  Previously, I discussed whether I should take the new version or the current version and it was recommended to me by advisers that the current one was a known factor while the new version would make guinea pigs of all it's takers.  Therefore the GRE test has a set deadline, where as there is a half marathon in Seoul EVERY WEEKEND, I kid you not.  If I wanted to run in a race every weekend of the year, I could find one here.  You'd never know if you weren't in the runners circle however, as I never see Koreans running, at least outside.  So there you have it, my confession. A part of me feels like a failure for putting the race off, a pansy, but the other part of me, the logical part that isn't such a bully, explains to me in a even toned voice that it was the right move for my/our future.  I'm thankful for Kyle for being so understanding. He's been fantastic at helping to support me in these endeavors (except for posting on the blog as of late) and I can't thank him enough.

P.s. ya'll might send Kyle an email or a shout out as his birthday is this coming Sunday.

Keeping Japan in mind

It's surprising how little information I hear about Japan considering our  close proximity, but the only news I hear is from the US news I watch in the morning.  Japan not only suffered from a devastatingly enormous earthquake but also a tsunami and now the threat of a nuclear fall out. In light of all of this catastrophe, I thought I would bring you some humor via Japan.  Korea, like Japan enjoys VERY silly humor, but in all honesty Japan does a better than does Korea.  They entertain their masses in the form of silly game shows. And here are two classic examples.  The first one is a game show in which the goal is fr the contestants is to try and eat marshmallows while being held back by contraptions which distort their face.  The second show is a group of men who play games in a library and must remain quite while having to do tasks that one might see on the "fear factor."  Both are hilarious. Enjoy the pleasures of Japanese culture, while you keep the people within the country in your prayers and thoughts.
Japanese show

Japanese silent library

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 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

Is there anyone out there who can help?  Has anyone attended any of these schools? I'm so lost. I don't even know where to start when it comes to researching the reputation of a school or finding a good school.  I'm looking for advice from anyone who is willing to give it.  Thanks in advance.

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.

I should actually be doing something productive right now

It's a lazy Saturday.  I have a "To do" list, but as soon as we made this list, my hubby fell asleep.  We slept over 10 hours last night, but he was still sleepy.  I think he's feeling stressed out from the job right now.  Anyways, while my baby (husband is synonymous with baby) sleeps, I should actually do something like write. I still have 1,000 words to write on my project for the week, but instead, I've been catching up on my blog reading and I came across a post that inspired me.  Bekah, from Country Mouse Tales has an adorable blog about her hubby and baby.  Her posts are clever and fun, but this post, ice breakers, intrigued me to the point that I decided to blatantly copy her idea. 
It's a get to know my readers post.  Yep, that's right.  This post is not about me, but about you. I want to know about you guys.  All of you stalkers out there, come on out and say hi.  I promise I wont bite, unless you spam me.  Then I might bite you.

I actually had another idea, a few months back, that I intend to initiate sometime soon, about creating more of a community here on the "yellow brick road" but this will be a good start.  We're gonna do an ice breaker.  A good old fashioned ice breaker.  Bekah, said she disliked school icebreakers, but I always found them fun.  They were a way to make all those strangers in the room into possible friends. 
One of my favorite ice breakers was one called, "Two truths and a lie." Most people are familiar with this ice breaker but for those of you who aren't, this is how you play.  You list three statements about yourself, in no particular order.  Two of them are truthful, and one of them is a lie.  And everyone in the room tries to guess the lie.  Lets all play.  It will be fun.  Even if you're not a regular reader.  Even if you just happen to accidentally glance at the blog, we want to hear from you.

I'll go first:  This will be easy for those of you who know me.

My nickname was Screamer as a child.
I met Cher when I worked for Disney World

I can't stand ketchup.

So take a guess, and then list your two truths and a lie.  You can either wait to post the truth or you can just list it at the bottom of your post. If you read these posts on facebook, feel free to post your comment on facebook.

The Girl Effect

  This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for.  In preschool, everyday, we have something that is called circle time.  In my opinion, it is probably the most important aspect of the day, as it is when we practice vocabulary, questions and answers.  This week, I have chosen the topic of Thanksgiving despite the fact that this is once again uniquely a North American thing. (Canadians have their Thanksgiving in October) The question of the week, therefore is, "What are you thankful for?"  The children give a myriad of answers ranging from dolls, moms, sisters, TV to individual friends in the class.  I sometimes get a shout out of appreciation as well.  But it has made me reflect quite a bit on what am I thankful for in my life , as I have had to answer this question twice everyday this week.  I have come to realize  that people as blessed as we are, as Americans are, as the industrialized world is, that we don't really appreciate the gifts we have until they have been taken away.  It's difficult to express my gratitude, as just about every aspect of my life is a blessing.

 I am thankful for my parents (and rest of my family for that matter) who have always, and I mean always supported me.  The basic purpose of a parent is to make sure their child survives, lives to adulthood.  To many parents, this can mean different things, this can mean providing financially, it can be in the form of food in the gullet and a roof overhead.  If my parents had provided nothing more than this, they would have been doing their required duty, but they didn't stop there.  They loved me.  They loved me unconditionally even when I threw screaming impassioned temper-tantrums (and you better believe that someone as dramatic as I am could throw a proper temper-tantrum), even when I barked like a dog as a two year old in a restaurant and embarrassed them beyond measure, and even when I made decisions they disapproved of, they loved me for being me, for just being their daughter.  And I haven't just had the support of my parents but my amazingly supportive family, and friends who I consider as important as family.  When I first suggested living abroad, my family didn't say, "no, that isn't possible." Instead they said, "When can we come visit you?" But I haven't just been emotionally blessed beyond measure, but in every other aspect of my life as well.  I have never gone without food.  I have never slept outside unless it was intentional.  I have had electricity and running water for almost every single moment of my life.  But you know what hadn't occurred to me to be thankful for until just a few days ago with thanks to the attention-deprived action of our insane neighbor, was peace.  Although our country has been technically "at war" for almost ten years, I have never seen war. I have never lost someone to a landmine or a car bomb.   I have never been afraid for my life.  I have never not known peace.  I have never felt hopeless about my future because as an American we are told that dreams are possible.  Now we can debate over the veracity of the latter statement, but the truth is that being American automatically puts us strides ahead of other human beings in other parts of the world.  We are born with possibilities beyond what so many in this world are able to achieve.  But a future of love and laughter is available to us with commitment.  If we only lasso our future with sheer strength and determination and refuse to let go anything is really possible for us.  I could go on and on about my many blessings, but what I want to talk about at this moment are those who on this Thanksgiving day are hungry or ailing.  Those individuals, in parts of the world, who are born into cyclical poverty and see no outreaching hand to pull them out.  Those who don't have the possibility of education.  Those who don't have hope, don't even understand the concept of the word as it has never applied to their lives. Without possibility these people, whom are our brothers and sisters of the Earth live a life I can't even begin to pretend to fathom.
My aunt recently introduced me to nonprofit  called "The Girl Effect."   This nonprofit is throwing its support behind girls.  They believe that if they can help girls in poverty become educated, they can break the cycle for the next generation. The video below is their campaign.  I urge you to watch it and when you are going around the table numbering off your many blessings in front of the turkey feast, you can consider ways to help these girls better their lives and communities to become as blessed as we are.
 Click here to see on Youtube

Why so much support for the female and not the male?  An unconnected non-profit group, called the Hunger Project, who gives women microloans explains much better than I ever could.

Women bear almost all responsibility for meeting basic needs of the family, yet are systematically denied the resources, information and freedom of action they need to fulfill this responsibility.
The vast majority of the world's poor are women. Two-thirds of the world's illiterates are female. Of the millions of school age children not in school, the majority are girls. And today, HIV/AIDS is rapidly becoming a woman's disease. In several southern African countries, more than three-quarters of all young people living with HIV are women.
The current world food price crisis is having a severe impact on women. Around the world, millions of people eat two or three times a day, but a significant percentage of women eat only once. And, now, many women are denying themselves even that one meal to ensure that their children are fed. These women are already suffering the effects of even more severe malnutrition, which inevitably will be their children's fate as well. The impact of this crisis will be with us for many years.
Studies show that when women are supported and empowered, all of society benefits. Their families are healthier, more children go to school, agricultural productivity improves and incomes increase. In short, communities become more resilient.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!  We can't wait to see you for CHRISTMAS!!!

Time Banking

We watch pbs newshour every morning as we get ready for work.  It is a way of us to feel connected to the world. Last week they this video came on and really struck me. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I haven't been alive a long time in comparison to others so I don't have a lot to compare to, but I feel as if we have lost a sense of community , and this seems a brilliant way to bring it back.  Click here to watch the video at PBS.  It such a simple idea.  I remember suggesting this as a child to my father when I didn't understand why we had money.  What do you think?

Watch the full episode. See more NOW on PBS.

My least favorite thing in Korea

Korea is a hodgepodge of cultural oddities. Some aspects of Korea are wonderful. CHEAP public transportation is an excellent example. I can complain all I want that the Korean subway moves slowly and is inefficient in it's design, but I cannot complain that it costs me a total of $2 to go clear across the city. The subway in London is close to $8 one way. And we all know how I LOVE a good deal.

Another fabulous aspect of Korea is the street food. It is greasy, fattening and readily available on each and every corner of Seoul. It is one of the most commented aspects from the rare tourist visiting Korea. Street food is awesome!

However, the facet of Korean culture that I least appreciate is the bathroom. But more specifically the shower. (There is more about the Korean bathroom that we shall delve into later, but as I am choosing not to write a dissertation on every irritating feature of the Korean restroom, at least in this post, we shall stay short and to the point today) Our shower is great (when there is hot water). We've got water pressure and a wide stream, however what I find fault with in the bathroom is the lack of separation between shower and the remaining space. In most American homes the shower head is either found above the bathtub or blocked off by glass walls or ceramic tiling. It is a vital design in the bathroom that the shower is separated from the toilet or the sink. I never even knew there might be others in the world, at least those with running water, who might purposefully choose to stray from this brilliant design. However in most Korean bathrooms, the shower is the bathroom, not a separated part of the bathroom. There is no barrier to block the water from spraying the entirety of the room. Our drain for the shower is actually below the sink in the middle of the bathroom. Yes, it is strange, but more than strange, it is just plain irritating.

What are the downsides to this bizarre design you might ask?

-There is ALWAYS a wet floor. The Korean solution is bath shoes. Every bathroom, even public bathrooms such as in restaurants, provide shower shoes. The problem lies in that shower shoes get wet as well and if you walk into the bathroom in your socks or slip your socked feet into already wet shower shoes the result is sopping wet socks. Who likes their socks wet? Psychopaths, those are the only nutcases crazy enough to enjoy wet socks.

-Wet toilet- Have you ever sat on a wet toilet seat? And I mean a dripping wet toilet seat. Let's just say, it is pleasant. It's about as pleasant as falling into the toilet bowl because your husband forgot to put the seat down.

-Wet things- When there is no closed off storage space in your bathroom, you have the added pleasure of watering everything you keep in the bathroom. Your toothpaste, you moisturizer, razor you name it, it gets wet. If you don't think that your inanimate objects need watering and shade to grow then the bathroom is the wrong place for them.

What are the positive aspects?

I have yet to discover why this design would in the least be beneficial. Maybe it makes it cheaper to construct and also less work for the builders?

Maybe Koreans really like everything they own to be soaked daily. Maybe Koreans never wear socks in the house. I really can't answer why one would design such a disastrous bathroom, but I can tell you, I DON'T LIKE IT! And when I am getting back to the USA, one of the first things on my 'To Do List' is to take a hot bubble bath. Yesssiree, I miss my bathtub, and my normal shower.

But for all those folks who might be concerned about our welfare after reading this cantankerous post, please don't worry. We are actually very happy at the moment despite the tone of a few of the previous posts. We are productive members in society. We are together. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is lying next to me. Life is good, despite an ill-designed bathroom.

The marriage that keeps going and going and...

I understand now.
I understand how easy it is to fall into a routine with a person.
I understand how easy it is to stop showing the most important person in your life that you LOVE them.
I understand how easy it is to forget to be in a marital relationship, not just two people living together.

I never understood before how people could just "fall" out of love. Doesn't love last forever I thought?

When we are young, we read the fairy tales and watch the romantic princess movies, and the endings are always the same, they got married and lived "happily ever after." When we are young, it is understandable to believe that marriage is the end of the road. It is the finish line, that once you cross, the race is over, and the cool down can begin. In some ways, that metaphor is true. Marriage is the finishing line for the single life, for the rat race of finding "mr./ms. right." But in many ways, it is the starting line. It is the start of a commitment. A life long commitment.

Kyle and I were joking the other night about our contract with English Village, and how we were thankful that it wasn't more than a year. A year of chaos, is probably as much as we could handle before loosing what little sanity we have left.
The next part of the conversation is a little hazy but I said something about quitting Kyle (jokingly of course).
And Kyle's response was, "uh-huh, you signed a life long contract with me."
And it hit me, when we (people) get married, we are signing on for the duration of the rest of our life. It is pretty crazy to think that anybody would willingly sign something agreeing to one thing, the same thing for their entire life. When I thought about it in terms of contracts I was really hit with the longevity of it.

Don't worry people, I'm not getting cold feet three years into our marriage. But it is something to consider, looking at it from a different vantage point.

In recent weeks, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, we have been going going going, like two energizer bunnies with fully charged batteries. Working during the work week from 8:30 am-8:15 pm. Finding time to work out, to write, to rest were all on top of the list for the "to do" list after work. However, not on that list was to appreciate each other, or to love each other. And make no mistake people, those should be on a "to do" list of a married couple. Sometimes when we slip into one of our routines, I feel like we forget how to "be in love." And in actuality, I forget to love Kyle. I forget to appreciate him for the man I married, and not just the person I spend most of my time with. It is so much easier than I ever imagined to turn into "an old married couple." A successful marriage is not one that doesn't split up in my opinion. There are plenty of couples who remain together but no longer as a husband and a wife, but as two people who just happen to occupy the same house. An old married couple who no longer bother to even look at each other, or kiss each other because it takes too much effort, is not what I am striving for in my marriage. But I understand it now.

I have understood from the beginning that a marriage takes work. I was under no illusions that marriage is always a piece of chocolate cake, gooey, and delicious. But until now, I didn't think that falling into a loveless marriage would ever be possible for Kyle and I. We are so alike, we love each other with a fierceness. We call each other pet names and we aren't afraid to display public affection. But guess what? We aren't immune to the blah-ness disease. The disease of rote pattern, and blinders. The disease of selfishness and lack of consideration. The disease of loosing the romance and not bothering to look for it. I wish their was some sort of immunization one could take at their wedding ceremony to prevent these sad occurrences from plaguing our lives, from preventing life from wedging it's way into our relationship, but there isn't a magic elixir to prevent it. There is only us.

The antidote, for us at least, and most relationships (in my opinion) is effort. Effort to remember the other person. Not just to remember them, but to remember that they are a separate person with feelings, wants and desires all of their own, not necessarily connected to our own. Effort is remembering to kiss the special person, to show them the affection you wish they would done on you. Effort is remembering that cuddling next to someone should never just be habit, but something to cherish each and every time. We have to put effort into our relationships, treat that other person as we would want to be treated.

Our weekend of R and R, was just what the romantic doctor ordered. A short time to appreciate each other, to remember to be in a relationship outside of work, outside of friendship, outside of being roommates. We were able to take the time to look each other in the eyes for not just a second, but for minutes, melting into each others souls as we used to do when we first found each other. We told each other "I love you" not just because it was "that time" to say it, but because we meant it and because it had to be said before it exploded out of us. Taking time to remember to love each other, is what I found is extremely important in keeping our marriage vibrant.

So this got me to thinking; What do you do, to keep your marriage or relationships alive? How do you keep the love from slipping away into the abyss?

Who are you people??!

You may have noticed, if you are a commenter on the blog, that I have recently made the switch from open comments for everyone, to moderation. I resisted this switch mostly because I want everyone to feel welcome to comment, however my friendliness was taken advantage of and unfortunately comment moderation, unless something changes will be the wave of the future. A few months back I began to notice an increase of comments, something that greatly excited my comment loving heart, but my excitement soon transformed into disappointment and disgust. Rather than comments from my friends, family and other bloggers, spam comments were overtaking regular comments two to one. At first they were innocent enough, not advertising anything, just strange and foreign sounding:

It was rather interesting for me to read that article. Thanx for it. I like such topics and everything that is connected to them. I would like to read a bit more on that blog soon.

Anonymous

I got several like this, almost identical, sometimes a few words were different. What threw me off about these comments were that they were made on posts where this comment seemed inappropriate. This particular one was found on the post about my grandmother being ill in the hospital. But it didn't try and sell anything, it didn't link back to another website, so I didn't really have any reason not to allow it be seen.

But lately the comments have moved from peculiar to creepy or just beyond weird:

My Girl friend just broke up with me and I have uploaded every nude PIC I have of her to the net. Just go to (link) Enjoy!

This is a comment that has been increasing in frequency in my comment box along with another comments that doesn't even pretend to be a real person, instead it just lists links to different Viagra and other such websites. The blog posts with the most comment spam frequency are "Want a Guille Suit? I'm your man!" and The woebegone story of the gingerbread house, which as far as I can tell, don't receive more traffic than other posts. Why these posts? What is it about these posts that attract spammers. Is it the sexuality of the gingerbread house because we all know that there is nothing mores sensual than the family Christmas activity of making houses with icing and graham crackers. And of course the guile suit that looks like a furry gorilla could be likened to lingerie.

So this is my question, why do spammers think that leaving bizarre messages in my comment box will bring traffic to their sites? How can they think this method would be effective in the least? As far as I can tell, people don't go looking through my comments clicking on any link they see, especially considering the audience I cater to and that these posts are old and are no longer on the main page.

Who are you people?
And why are you wasting my time and yours?

And if you are going to fill my comments with spam, can't you at least get an effective advertising campaign? Being a communication major, seeing such ineffective marketing irks me even if it's just nonsense porn spam. If your going to be an annoying bloodsucker of all that is whole and good in this world, can't you at least go about it in an intelligent way? Or is that too much to ask?

If you know me, you know that I am generally a positive person, and hate leaving a post on a negative thought. So I will leave with a thank you. Thank you to all of my readers, and thank you to all of my commentors who counterbalance the absurdity of the spammers. It is always nice to hear your thoughts and encouragements, they really make our day.

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.

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

Excel hates me

Have you ever spent THREE hours making phone calls, getting transfered over and over again, researching on unnavigable websites, collecting data only to delete it all on accident permanently? Yeah, I did that yesterday. I have been working on a project for that non-profit I mentioned the other day called music in the schools (which is a super great cause by the by) and I thought I could work excel. I mean, all I had to do was input a little data right? I just made an itsy bitsy mistake and wanted to erase ONE ROW. What, pray tell did I erase however? The entire SHEET. Yes, an entire page- non recoverable. My head nearly exploded at that moment. I literally grabbed a blanket and hid with my new snow leopard stuffed animal named LEA (short for Leopard, but with an "A" for a girl which I got at the mac store because the mac representative took pity on me, being too poor to purchase a new laptop and all). We huddled under the blanket away from the mean computer for probably thirty minutes, yet the nightmare was still there when we re-emerged, ERASED PERMANENTLY. Luckily, in my desperation, I found a website, a golden website, which held the answers to all life's problems. Ok, not really all life's problems, just the one I was dealing with at that moment! YAY!!! It was the light at the end of a tunnel. I only wish that all of life's little curve balls had such simple solutions, but what would be the fun of that? Thank goodness for Lea- she made the day. Man, I miss my stuffed animal days. I sometimes find myself petting this FAKE cat, as if were real and enjoyed being petted! What does that say about me? Hmmm.... I am not sure I want you to answer that...

Inspired (again)

I was having a conversation over dinner just tonight about how I had once read a speech by JK Rowling and found it one of the most inspiring speeches I had ever read. It inspired me to revisit this post which picks out some of the more inspiring parts of the speech, at least for me. And I once again was blown away at the power of her words. Many people who now follow the blog, did not follow it almost exactly one year ago (when we were in Seattle with my aunt), so I felt impelled to repost this wonderfullly inspiring speech. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have!

We have a lot of time on our hands lately so I find myself thinking about future posts more than I ever have in the past, partially out of boredom, but also because I have the time for creativity. I have the time and the energy to let my imagination and thoughts run wild. A hidden blessing in our time of frustration, one might say. Through my internet searching today, I came across a commencement speech by J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series, given to the graduating class at Harvard. And by her speech I was inspired. So much so, that even after an inordinately long post that most of you probably haven't had the chance to read yet, I have decided to post another. (p.s. please read Kyle's entry before you read this one as it is really worth the read, and I not just saying that because I am the biased wife, it really is so well written and entertaining. It is not one to be missed!) I am not going to post the whole speech, but take excerpts that particularly spoke to me. However if you would like to read the entire speech, click here.

Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.... So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

So obviously Kyle and I have had hit road blocks in our life, but we haven't even brushed the edge of the decline that leads to rock bottom. In no way, am I comparing what we are going through to the rock bottom that she speaks of, but I think what she has to say about failure is so intriguing and true for some, but not all. I love the quote from the movie Catch Me If You Can, "Two little mice fell in a bucket of cream. The first mouse quickly gave up and drowned. The second mouse, wouldn't quit. He struggled so hard that eventually he churned that cream into butter and crawled out." For some, failure is just that, failure, and there is nothing more to say or do. Rock bottom is just another place to live or die. But for others, for the fighters, for the ones who want more and are willing to struggle failure can be the lottery ticket to success, an opportunity. I am always so inspired by stories of failures that lead to success because I want to be one of those people who takes risks and isn't afraid of failure. The line where Rowling says, "I was set free" made so much sense to me. If what you fear is failure, and you have failed, than there is no where else to go but towards success.

Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared. ...I paid the rent in my early 20s by working in the research department at Amnesty International's headquarters in London. here in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. ... Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to think independently of their government.
... I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.

Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard and read.

And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.

Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.

This passage gave me a greater understanding of her books. While reading the Harry Potter series, I often got a sense that what she was warning against was not evil in the world, but instead, not standing up against what you know is wrong, even if you have to do it alone and at the risk of everything. Voldemort controlled with fear, paralyzing those who knew that he was wrong into doing nothing. Voldemort may have been a fictional villan, but what he stood for is unfortunatly far from fiction. Voldemort is much like the totalitarrian governments that strike fear in the hearts of many citizens of our world. Rowlings work with Amnesty International gave her a first hand look at what happens when we allow fear or totalitarrian governments to rule. Her books are beautiful stories, with imaginative creatures in a mysterious and enchanting world, but more than that, I think she wanted to send a message to all the children and adults in the world. Face your fear, don't let it control you, your dreams or what you know to be right.

And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.

I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces can lead to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.

What is more, those who choose not to empathise may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.

One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridorwas this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.

With so much time on my hands, I have been doing a lot of soul searching. "Who am I? Who do I want to become? How can I improve myself and improve the world?" After working at Alamo Segway, although I enjoyed myself greatly while exploring the city via segway and meeting interesting people, I have decided that in order for my heart and conscious to be whole, I need to know that I am useful, that I am helpful. I want to live life to the fullist and for me that means that I need to do something extraoridary. That doesn't mean that I have to live in poverty in an orphanage in China. Extraoridariness, if thats a real word, can be found anywhere, even in our own backyard. I don't exactly know where that leads me, but it gives me a general direction to where I am headed. (An example of working in one's own back yard, Kyle and I had a job interview yesterday with the community center here in Redmond and may have part time jobs helping middle schoolers. More on that later when we know more.) I leave you with this quote that has become my recent mantra, "Risk more than others think is safe. Care more than others think is wise. Dream more than others think is practical. Expect more than others think is possible. "
~ Cadet Maxim

Is Love enough?

Napolean and Josephine divorce?

I just finished the Josephine Bonaparte trilogy, three thrilling historical fiction books based on one of the most acclaimed love stories of all time, and it ended in divorce and death?? Why must all of these LOVE stories end in tragedy.

When I finished "Gone with the Wind", the most fervent love story of all time, I threw the book across the room. I couldn't believe that I read over 1000 pages only to learn that in the end, their marriage doesn't blossom into the love that they both desired, but decayed and disenegrated painfully in heart ache and despair. However, the difference between these two stories, is that Scarlette and Rhett are fictional characters, the came from Margret Mitchell's active and twisted imagination.

Josephine and Napolean are characters in French history, they were genuine human beings, with actual feelings, and authentic heart-break. Why was love not enough? I wrote a ten page paper in college about how Scarlette and Rhett's lack of communication, and their inability to say "I'm sorry" was ultimately their demise. This story galvanized my perfervid passion of the importance of communication. But Josphine and Napolean talked, they communicated, they were spirit-friends, as she called it, but it wasn't enough. Napolean was convinced he needed an heir to uphold their empire which deteriorated quickly after their divorce. I lay in bed next to my sleep-thrashing husband (he sometimes convulses in an agitated way while sleeping, especially when he is stressed), reading devotedly as I rabidly clung to the hope that in the end, they would be reunited. Maybe they were reunited in death, but they were not by each other sides in the end. It frightens me to read these stories of passion and woe as I often relate so strongly with the characters having had a whirlwind romance all of my own. Is love enough? Will it get us through the hard times? Often, there are small fractures hidden within the foundation which spur rapid crackling and ultimate severing in the end. Communication, as I have said before is key, open, honest, and heart-felt communication. However both of these stories took place during tumultuous times, the civil war, and the French revolution, situations which were not serendipitous to a healthy relationship. Hopefully there will be no uprisings, wars nor revolutions in our future, but no how much we will it, we cannot control all situations. I pray that love will bind us and in the future when our love is acclaimed as the most romantic in history (obviously I have a vivid imagination as well, as I do not actually believe that we will also rule an empire and be remembered throughout history, but for the sake of argument) it will not end in tragedy as so many of them do, but will end with "they lived happily ever after."


Interesting facts I learned while reading these fascinating books.
1. Napolean came to power directly after the French revolution. (Maybe I didn't pay enough attention in history, but I have both of these parts of history categorized in completely different compartments in my mind.)
2. The French Revolution and the American Revolution basically occurred simultaneously.
3. Women, in order to be beautiful, slowly poisoned themselves unknowingly with lead makeup base.
4. Napoleon's family was a crazy bunch of power-hungry deviants.
5. Napoleon and his family were not French, but Corsican. Corsica is an island to the west of Italy.
6. Josephine went through menopause before she was thirty because of the deprivation she went through during The Terror while being held in a disease-infested prison.


I hope you are able to read the books. They are remarkable!

Old Friends

Looking back to the carefree days in high school, I find my eyes glistening over with love from our high-spirits, love of life, idealism and possibilities of the future; the future which seemed so far away and so full of limitless dreams. There was some drama in high school as there is in all aspects in life, no matter how much we attempt to avoid it, but my romanticized notion of what life was like without the boulders of the failures, is not over-exaggerated at least in my mind. I preferred my mind and heart, open, and trusting, to one that is more cautious and jaded.

I saw some old good friends from my past a few days past, and our meeting reminded me why we became friends in the first place. Laughter was overriding as we sipped on raspberry tea. Hope and affection were surly ingredients in the leek, chili and potato soup as it seeped out of our pores.

Kyle and I have met a good many different people through our travels, tribulations, and experiences, some keep in touch, while others fade into the blue hue of yesterday. But each time I meet with good friends from my past, from those times of naivety and light-heartedness, I am reminded of my former self, one less self-conscious, one less caught up in the tediousness of life and I wish that I could somehow transport myself to those untainted emotions. I wish I could remember daily that 26 is not old and that I still have my entire life ahead of me. I assumed, credulously, that by 26 my life would be sorted out, that each piece of the puzzle would at least start fitting together. I supposed, ignorantly that I would at least have the border in place, but instead, I don't even think that I have all of the puzzle pieces on the table, and sometimes, I am not sure there aren't more than one puzzle involved in this game. Am I to incorporate these pieces and design my own masterpiece, or should I sort out the unfamiliar pieces and work with the what I ascertain is the correct, original puzzle? It is all so confusing, living life without a manual, without instructions. Many people are given outlines, I threw mine out a while ago by choice, but now I feel that I am wandering lost without a charted map. And I find myself wondering if I shouldn't have kept it, that outline, just as a reference or if it is better what we have chosen. Only time will tell however, if those decisions will create the masterpiece we had in mind. We have endeavored to live life on the clished moto of "live life to the fullest" which is more fulfilling that living by the book, yet as we have quickly discovered, it is not quite as simple and as there are higher mountains with this lifestyle, so are there deeper valleys.

I must look upwards however because I no longer want to nuzzle next to the jagged rocks. Here is to climbing our mountain! Here is to soaring above and beyond what we believed possible. Here is to blindly believing that life always works out in the end. Cheers to my past to my friends, idealism, naivety and joviality , cheers to the present and taking pleasure in the small things and remembering to be appreciative of our blessings, and cheers to our unknown future, where ever it may take us, may it bring us joy and send us soaring!

The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions ~ Oliver Wendell

(Does this quote fit at all here? A friend sent it to me and I wanted to use it, so I just kind of shoved it in this puzzle as I feel like I do with many of those loose odd-fitting pieces)

Shara and Mike (now living in Arkansas), Kyle, me (living here and there) and Andrea (in corpus). It's funny how non of us girls have the same last name as we did at the beginning of our friendship.

Visiting with Andrea and her hubby and adorable baby boy in Corpus.

My lovely Shara :)

How many of me are there?

"What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." (Who can name that quote?)

When I married my love-a-dub husband, one of the many things we discussed was the changing of our last name. In English speaking cultures it is a societal norm to change one's last name to that of the husband's. Ironically, when we lived in Chile, a very macho-oriented culture, this was not the tradition. Rather, the children take both the mother and the father's last name. But the end by-product results very much the same. The mother's last name eventually is dropped when it is given to the next generation, as in our culture.

Can you imagine what their names would be like if they took each surname of both their mother and father, grandparents, great parents and so on. It would be like reading the first few pages of the Bible everyday; this is John Mike Smith, Johnson, Rogers, Baker, Pain, Peters, Torres, son of Cain..... Somewhere the chaos has to end, and someone's name has to make the cut or else insanity would ensue.

It was interesting when we would introduce ourselves as Kyle and Vanessa Rogers. A bewildered look would squirm across their faces. Despite the number of American movies brought to their country either through legitimate means or pirating, I gather that they still didn't make the connection as to how the transferring of last name works traditionally in the U.S.. We were often asked if we weren't brother and sister nearly everytime, and we would have to explain, "No, in the U.S. traditionally the wife takes the husbands last name." The response to this was often, "how machisto. How sexist" in a condescending manner, the irony blatantly oblivious to the founders of the machisto society.

But they have a point, it's true, our tradition of dropping the maiden name can be considered sexist as in our history it demonstrated the transferring from the father's control to the husband's control. Additionally, it implies that the woman has no surname of her own and her name is merely a reflection of her relationship to men.

Kyle and I discussed our options when planning our marriage. We could leave our names as is, but the problem with that is the lack of unity in the family unit. Eventually, we would like children, and felt it was important that our last names represented that we were a family. So the discussion continued to other options, taking my last name, hyphenating our last names, even creating a new last name out of our current names. Brogers was the most popular of our creative options. In the end, we went with the traditional method, and I changed my last name. The switch was both wistful and a joyous occasion all tied together in a messy ball of confusing and expensive paperwork. My maiden name had been mine, had represented me throughout my entire existence and now symbolized a past self, a pre-marriage self. In some ways it was hard to leave behind the name that in some way had helped to mold me into who I was, but in another, I was illustrating to the world that I was permanently attached to the man I loved and we were then and forever more family.

I mention this now because I recently came across a website called How many of me, which tells you how many people in the USA have your same name. There are a total of 21 people with Vanessa as their first name and my maiden last name as their last, however my current last name, which is by far the more widely used, has 186 of us roaming around the US of A. These statistics made me feel a uninspiring, and unoriginal. It also got me to thinking; who would I be today had I had a totally different name. Would a rose really smell so sweet if it had a different name. What if a rose was called gerg or scat, something that didn't roll off the tongue so sweetly. Would the disgust in our mouth from creating the unpleasant sound taint our image of the rose? How important is a name? Do people see me differently now that I have changed my last name? How many of you are in this world. How does that make you feel? How has your name shaped your life if at all?

Ever feel like this?

This picture is the epitome of how I feel right now. I don't thrive on drama like some people, I don't even like drama,. I prefer things to be easy and uncomplicated. I don't even like it when there is too much drama in the lives of TV characters, I cover my eyes or hide behind a chair. I love to lie on my back staring up at the starry night feeling the peace and wonder of simplicity. But sometimes life has other plans than your own. Sometimes as your minding your own business finding your way along the yellow brick road, life hands you, a tiny bird, a spool of black thread and says, "move this tree from here to there, good luck." Is it worth it? Should one even strive for what seems like the impossible? I guess that is the ultimate question. Is it better just to walk away, or keep pulling at the thread?(Painting by Laura McCabe)

Peace

It's ironic that when I saw this photo, the first thing that came to mind was peace and tranquility and how badly I crave that in my life at this point. It is ironic because this is a picture of a forest in Brazil burning. The smoke which I mistook for haze, adds to the allure, even. I guess it goes to show, that what looks like peace in someone else's life, might not be what you were searching for after all. Somehow, even after the knowledge of what this photo is, I still feel that quiet sensation within when looking at it; that feeling that most people feel when looking at the ocean in the moonlight, or listening to the sound of the rain on a tin roof. Somehow, amongst the caos, this photo captures the essense of tranquility. I wonder if someone took a picture of my soul if they could capture a similar image, one that portrayed calm, but somehow only captured the eye of the storm.

What do you see?

Sometimes looking into space makes me feel as tiny as ant, as insignificant as a mosquito. I realize that the world without me would be virtually the same as it is with me. And that in the whole scheme of things, my life is meaningless to the world.

However, when I look into the universe, I don't always have those negative feelings. Sometimes the thought of the universe fills my soul with liquid hope. It enters through my belly button until every limp is dancing with joy at the beauty of mother nature. The infinteness ( I don't know the word here) of the universe makes the possibilities in the world seem less finite and some how more possible.

I can choose to look at the same sky and have two drastically different thoughts. How I think will affect my outcome in life. If I decide that it is true that my life is basically worthless, and as important as malaria carrying mosquito, than I don't have much to look forward to. However if I decide that the sky is proof that our possibilities are limitless, and that with so much beauty in the world, it is ridiculous to wallow in my own sorrow of what may or may not be going wrong or right in my life, I can live for a better tomorrow. Our thoughts dictate so much more than we assume. If I think that I will be successful, whatever my definition of successful is, then I will more likely attain my goal of success than had I assumed that life is what it is, and we get what we get handed to us and success will elude me anyways so why reach for what is unattainable. I believe that life deals us a both good hands and bad hands. Some people have better hands than others, but it is what we wager and how we play those hands that determine the outcome of the game, not necessarily the cards we were dealt. Right now, I feel like I have been dealt a pretty lame hand, but I am not folding. I am choosing to take things as they come. I am choosing to look at the glass as half full rather than half empty. Focusing on the positive is not naive, it is what will put me ahead of the race in the end.

What got me thinking about this topic were these pictures that my dad's family sent through email. They were the top ten best photos taken through the Hubble telescope in the past 16 years. As I was talking on the phone with my darling hubby he mentioned that he saw a face in one of the photos. (one of his favorite games is the "what shape do you see in the clouds" game) He tried to talk me through it over the phone but after several minutes of me not understanding he finally sent me a paintbursh version with arrows and wording of the "angry ugly face". (sorry the pic is so small, I am not sure why that happened) And then I showed him what I thought looked like a who from whoville from the Dr. Sues books.
Kyle also saw the back of a vampire with a unicorn horn coming out of his forehead.

Don't mistake what I am saying. This is not a inkblot test to see who sees positive pictures must be the positive thinkers, but after playing this game, which is always harder over the phone and/or internet, it got me thinking about the power of our thoughts and how they determine our lives. We should be mindful or our thoughts, we never know where they could lead.

What do you see when you look in the universe? What do you see in these photos?

The photo that started my thoughts
Can you see the Who?
There are two bright neon orange lines. His belt is the bottom orange line with the pink dot which might be his belly button. His head starts at the line in between the bright orange lines, and the little bump is his nose. Something is coming out of his mouth.

Kyles small drawing to show me "the angry face" (You can click on it to enlarge it)

Another cool photo
And another

If you are interested in seeing more of the top photos, you can view them here