I prefer to wait until I have had a particularly moving day or life-changing thought before posting on here, but one small instance I just witnessed got me itching to write. Today's topic: Relationships. But of course.
I decided to stop by one of my favorite spots along the waterfront to watch the sunset this evening. This decision came spontaneously, triggered by a picture of a desert sunset sent from a friend, which I had to reciprocate. It was a race against the sun, but I reached the little roadside parking spot just in time to snap a few photos. It made me sad that my digital camera and my camera phone are both too often incapable of capturing just how magnificent our world is, but also thankful that my eyes are blessed with that capability.
While soaking in the breathtaking scenery which I can gratefully call home, I was about to pick up my current read: "A General Theory of Love" (I'm exploring the topic from all possible angles, since nothing fascinates me more) when I noticed the car next to me. The driver, a guy that looked close to my age, was making swift gestures that instantly told me he was fighting with the girl next to him. He stepped out of the car twice, just to get right back in, slam his door, and continue arguing. On his third attempt, he grabbed his jacket and stormed off---Only to circle my car and stop in front of his own, staring at the water and taking in deep breaths. My attention turned to the girl, whose face was buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking from the sobs. Back to the guy, he sat down in the grass, then collapsed down with one swift breath of defeat. I found myself congratulating him on leaving the situation, whatever it was, to calm himself down. Back to the girl, her tears weren't streaming down quite as quickly anymore, and it looked like she was on her phone-probably texting a friend or family member about her situation. I realized watching this whole episode had brought even me to tears. I knew exactly what each was thinking. He was frustrated and felt stuck, but he wasn't quite ready to give up. He could have walked down the scenic path into town not too far away, gone for a beer and left her there in the cold, but he didn't. He just lay down in front of the car, breathing in the fresh, crisp air. She was also obviously frustrated, but she was more hurt than angry. As unhappy as she was with him, she knew if he were to just open her car door and hold her tight, no words needed, everything would be okay. She knew he wouldn't do that, though. He was just a few feet away, but it felt like lightyears. Both were thinking, why couldn't she/he just resolve this exactly how I want? Why did he/she make me say those things? What are we even doing? Is this the end? Finally, after one last deep breath, the guy got up, got back in the car, and drove off. I knew he was still angry since he roared back onto the street a little to recklessly, and I knew her tears were still trickling. It was going to be a long night for them. I prayed that they will be holding each other close with apologetic and understanding words before they fall asleep.
Wishing I had gone out and at least given her a few words of encouragement, I sat there overcome with sadness. How many times have I been in that exact same situation? How many times have we all, in some form, been there? Relationships are the core and main purpose to all life. Why, then, are they the most confusing and difficult things there is? It's slightly ironic that I was about to delve into a book about this complicated subject just as that happened.
Wisdom is supposed to come with age, but what about all those older couples who still can't seem to figure out how to communicate without causing a raised voice or even tears? Why aren't we born with more knowledge on the subject, since we obviously need massive help on the matter? It pains me so deeply to know how difficult and oftentimes melancholic relationships are all across the globe. Personally, I have been through such tumultuous relationships that I am still trying desperately to get past. As much as I have learned, it scares me to think that it still might not be enough. I might end up as that girl in the car yet again. I absolutely do not want this fear to inhibit me from forming new relationships or enriching current ones. So again, why is it that I, we, don't know enough in order to guarantee stomach butterflies and trusting laughter for a lifetime? I agree that great lessons are learned through tribulations, and the phrase "it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all" is famous for a reason. Still, it frustrates me to have to go through times of torment and world-shattering depression in order to learn one more tiny detail on how to have the best relationships. Maybe this book I'm reading will help me understand a little bit more. But will it really? Or is experience really the only way to grasp it? For now, I just wish rollercoasters stuck to amusement parks and left our emotions alone.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
I am these ballerina shoes.
I have been experiencing a literary standstill for months now. I don't know if that is due to the lack of long, late-night drives, or my sparse/unhealthy sleep schedules, or maybe I'm only eloquent when engulfed in personal anguish. Regardless, it is frustrating to feel so incapable of getting my thoughts out these days. I know, I should be thrilled that I'm not experiencing deep turmoil or lonely (yet lovely) night drives, both of which bring out the writer in me. Apparently that was the secret to several famous writers' successful publishes as well (The sadness, not the driving. Even these connections are more difficult for me to verbalize these days).
Well, the most logical first topic is an update on my life since the night I landed in Seoul, South Korea. That whole trip could very well be another reason behind my current lack of vocabulary knowledge. Speaking overly simplified English for five weeks wiped out a little too much. I need to start reading one book each week again in order to regain all that lost language. In the mean time, I apologize for the shortage in descriptive words and playful verbage.
Korea--The country I would have never imagined myself traveling to, let alone falling in love with. I went from rejoicing when learning about the trip's existence, to doubting when finding out about the whole game plan and selected group, to anxiety over trying to plan for something with little to no information, to pure excitement/bliss/passion/love/fulfillment once reaching Korea and experiencing a life-changing summer. I was essentially thrown into a disorganized, oftentimes chaotic, and totally foreign environment. Imagine standing in a small, stuffy classroom. Between the tile floor and overall barrenness, even trying to swallow the lump in your throat causes an echo. There you are, looking out at a dozen expectant faces whose unblinking eyes must be causing your sudden hot flashes. To make the situation worse, you only know how to speak a language that is almost entirely foreign to everyone else in the room. Who is your audience? Pre-teens: The age group that demands you to be funny, entertaining, infinitely knowledgeable, and will push your buttons. Now, with all of your rudimentary preparations long forgotten, teach them science. In English. Before the trip, I was experiencing some serious doubts over my career choice. What is the real reason why I feel like I want to be a teacher? Is it to try and mend some childhood scars through other children? Is it selfless or actually selfish? After all, committing so much money and time into a university (or five) to enter a career field with hardly any income, security, or proper acknowledgement must be done under the best of the best intentions. Thanks to my time in the Jeollanamdo English Camps, I am 200% sure I have chosen the BEST job. I definitely surprised myself with what a natural I was at problem solving, creative planning, and improvising..all the time. If I was feeling homesick, exhausted, or ill, the second I walked into MY homeroom with those kids--I was nothing but blissfully grateful. They became my world. I couldn't get enough of them, and thinking about them still gets me choked up. Now to get through graduation and back into a classroom already!
I could, and probably should, write a novel about my Korea experience. But I need to listen to what my mind is currently reeling over, and write about that. It's the best-possibly only-way to organize my thoughts and overcome any emotional obstacles. Tonight's ruminations: how would I define myself now, and how do I fit into my world. I say my world, because as I understand we are all in just one world, each of us kind of has our own version within our minds and thus, our outer lives. It's like a quote I just read in my book: "Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."-Schopenhauer. My perception of this is that we each have our own world. They are made and lived in based off of the experiences we have had and the people we have met/been around. We don't entirely realize how this naivete hinders us. Our world, this one small community in which we all play a key role, has so many more gifts and opportunities and insights and adventures than we realize or embrace. So, in a way our individual perceptions and how they were derived separate us, weigh us down, and too often lead to confrontations. I'm so thankful to have realized this, but I am still trapped within my own perceptions. This is probably a large part why I'm so antsy to travel more. Even with each US state, there are different cultures and atmospheres to be learned and experienced. It's all so exciting. I do not have an addictive personality, but I am addicted to traveling. As everyone should be. It only reaps benefits.
The small amount of traveling that I have been fortunate enough to experience has opened my eyes like a newborn. I've long since been knowing of the terms 1st world and 3rd world countries. I have yet to experience these "3rd world" places, but I already am so moved by them. I think my students in Korea connected me to this compassion. They were not to the point of "3rd world", but they were also not living lives like my own. Regardless of only owning a couple shirts and living in a town containing one makeshift grocery store and small apartments for large families, these kids were so full of joy and ambition. I have seen this countless times, actually. Those who really have to work hard and fight for things that more fortunate people are just given..those less fortunate people have more drive and even smile more than those that are "comfortable". Maybe it's because their worlds contain much less naiive perceptions. My Korean students came from so little, but they live like they WILL accomplish any and all of their goals-no matter how lofty. Kids are always the most insightful teachers. So anyway, I have adopted this new mindset that is constantly at least at the back of my mind. When anyone, including myself, complains or expresses any discomfort, I instantly think, "first world problems..." I know saying this out loud can be upsetting and even make me seem pretentious. I promise I don't mean it in that way. I'm simply tired of/feel too guilty for all these minuscule and petty complaints. Yes, when my favorite jeans are dirty or my computer temporarily malfunctions, I get bummed out. But I'm getting better at catching myself and turning it all into something to be actually thankful for. I have more possessions, food, and shelter than one person needs. So if a little pimple or broken camera are causing me distress, then I am more than blessed. The real test is remaining understanding and biting my tongue when people around me complain. But again, we're all locked into whatever our own worlds currently are. I'm excited to instill a passion for lifelong learning and exploring into my students, so their own worlds will grow and grow until they overlap and connect with others in our beautiful community.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace_alicia_tatlow/414605861/
Those people worldwide that endure more strain and even suffering than others--they're a lot like these ballet slippers above. Personally, I feel like my optimistic and oftentimes bubbly disposition exists because of hard work and even pain. Ballerinas are so enchanting and beautiful because of how they move, and most importantly, how easy they make it look. My own ballet experience was minimal, but I can confidently declare that it is tough. In order to train your body to move like a ballerina on pointe, your body must endure painful, laborious, work. Their frames must be kept unhealthily frail, their spines must be flexible to the point of near freakish flexibility, and their feet...their poor toes and ankles receive abuse that leaves them constantly bruised and over-strained. All of this sweaty, painful, perfectionist practice to result in angelic, mesmerizing movements. We can all agree, ballerinas are BEAUTIFUL. But take a look behind the scenes and you feel their pain and exhaustion as well. This is a lot like people. Talk to someone who has endured great hardships, and they will be the one to give you the warmest hug, full-bodied smile, and beautiful testimony to their steadfast faith. Why is it that they seem to be so much more alive than us? Maybe because their worlds are that much richer, deeper, meaningful, and real. The most beautiful insights and perceptions are learned not from psychology studies at prestigious universities or that person who's read every self-help book on getting the most out of life. No. This sweet, sweet intellect is learned from those you'd never expect had anything meaningful to share with you. They are the ones we need to listen to. Again, I know I am so fortunate and am not trying to downplay my blessings for pity or attention. But, come to me with a dilemma or hurt feelings, and I will work to make it all right. I am finally thankful (most of the time) for the struggles and misfortunes I've had; They have given me the tools for empathetic perceptions with which I can comfort and help those who ask. When thinking of all the things that have ever happened or continue to happen in our lives on this earth that are upsetting, seem unfair, and might even cause tears, what if we thought this: I am those pointe shoes. Yes, I am not happy because of an unwelcome (but temporary!) addition to my life. But I welcome it! Because it just makes my ballet dance that much more enchanting.
So in as much of a conclusion as I am capable of deriving right now, how do I define myself and how do I fit into my world? Or really, how does my world fit into our world? First, I am a server. Yes, I wait tables. But I'm not talking carrying food trays and filling diet cokes. My heart-my soul-lives to serve others. I do not feel fulfilled unless I am fulfilling someone else's life in a monumental or even an unnoticeable way. I yearn to understand everyone within our world community, and I strongly desire a connection. I have a hunger for learning and growing that gets my heart beating faster, and sharing my attained knowledge is like Christmas. Now, how do I fit? Possibly a better wording is what is my purpose? I read a mini exercise on how to try and figure out your individual and essential meaning to your life.
1. The usual, how would you live your life differently if you knew you were going to die soon?
2. Who do you admire and why?
3. What was the most fun time in your life?
I won't go into my own answers, but they definitely helped me realize my purpose. I am here to commit acts of compassion and love. Despite any worldly obstacles, I will make sure people feel loved and cared for. I will do my dance, ever changing and growing in beauty, and I will get others dancing too.
Well, the most logical first topic is an update on my life since the night I landed in Seoul, South Korea. That whole trip could very well be another reason behind my current lack of vocabulary knowledge. Speaking overly simplified English for five weeks wiped out a little too much. I need to start reading one book each week again in order to regain all that lost language. In the mean time, I apologize for the shortage in descriptive words and playful verbage.
Korea--The country I would have never imagined myself traveling to, let alone falling in love with. I went from rejoicing when learning about the trip's existence, to doubting when finding out about the whole game plan and selected group, to anxiety over trying to plan for something with little to no information, to pure excitement/bliss/passion/love/fulfillment once reaching Korea and experiencing a life-changing summer. I was essentially thrown into a disorganized, oftentimes chaotic, and totally foreign environment. Imagine standing in a small, stuffy classroom. Between the tile floor and overall barrenness, even trying to swallow the lump in your throat causes an echo. There you are, looking out at a dozen expectant faces whose unblinking eyes must be causing your sudden hot flashes. To make the situation worse, you only know how to speak a language that is almost entirely foreign to everyone else in the room. Who is your audience? Pre-teens: The age group that demands you to be funny, entertaining, infinitely knowledgeable, and will push your buttons. Now, with all of your rudimentary preparations long forgotten, teach them science. In English. Before the trip, I was experiencing some serious doubts over my career choice. What is the real reason why I feel like I want to be a teacher? Is it to try and mend some childhood scars through other children? Is it selfless or actually selfish? After all, committing so much money and time into a university (or five) to enter a career field with hardly any income, security, or proper acknowledgement must be done under the best of the best intentions. Thanks to my time in the Jeollanamdo English Camps, I am 200% sure I have chosen the BEST job. I definitely surprised myself with what a natural I was at problem solving, creative planning, and improvising..all the time. If I was feeling homesick, exhausted, or ill, the second I walked into MY homeroom with those kids--I was nothing but blissfully grateful. They became my world. I couldn't get enough of them, and thinking about them still gets me choked up. Now to get through graduation and back into a classroom already!
I could, and probably should, write a novel about my Korea experience. But I need to listen to what my mind is currently reeling over, and write about that. It's the best-possibly only-way to organize my thoughts and overcome any emotional obstacles. Tonight's ruminations: how would I define myself now, and how do I fit into my world. I say my world, because as I understand we are all in just one world, each of us kind of has our own version within our minds and thus, our outer lives. It's like a quote I just read in my book: "Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."-Schopenhauer. My perception of this is that we each have our own world. They are made and lived in based off of the experiences we have had and the people we have met/been around. We don't entirely realize how this naivete hinders us. Our world, this one small community in which we all play a key role, has so many more gifts and opportunities and insights and adventures than we realize or embrace. So, in a way our individual perceptions and how they were derived separate us, weigh us down, and too often lead to confrontations. I'm so thankful to have realized this, but I am still trapped within my own perceptions. This is probably a large part why I'm so antsy to travel more. Even with each US state, there are different cultures and atmospheres to be learned and experienced. It's all so exciting. I do not have an addictive personality, but I am addicted to traveling. As everyone should be. It only reaps benefits.
The small amount of traveling that I have been fortunate enough to experience has opened my eyes like a newborn. I've long since been knowing of the terms 1st world and 3rd world countries. I have yet to experience these "3rd world" places, but I already am so moved by them. I think my students in Korea connected me to this compassion. They were not to the point of "3rd world", but they were also not living lives like my own. Regardless of only owning a couple shirts and living in a town containing one makeshift grocery store and small apartments for large families, these kids were so full of joy and ambition. I have seen this countless times, actually. Those who really have to work hard and fight for things that more fortunate people are just given..those less fortunate people have more drive and even smile more than those that are "comfortable". Maybe it's because their worlds contain much less naiive perceptions. My Korean students came from so little, but they live like they WILL accomplish any and all of their goals-no matter how lofty. Kids are always the most insightful teachers. So anyway, I have adopted this new mindset that is constantly at least at the back of my mind. When anyone, including myself, complains or expresses any discomfort, I instantly think, "first world problems..." I know saying this out loud can be upsetting and even make me seem pretentious. I promise I don't mean it in that way. I'm simply tired of/feel too guilty for all these minuscule and petty complaints. Yes, when my favorite jeans are dirty or my computer temporarily malfunctions, I get bummed out. But I'm getting better at catching myself and turning it all into something to be actually thankful for. I have more possessions, food, and shelter than one person needs. So if a little pimple or broken camera are causing me distress, then I am more than blessed. The real test is remaining understanding and biting my tongue when people around me complain. But again, we're all locked into whatever our own worlds currently are. I'm excited to instill a passion for lifelong learning and exploring into my students, so their own worlds will grow and grow until they overlap and connect with others in our beautiful community.
Those people worldwide that endure more strain and even suffering than others--they're a lot like these ballet slippers above. Personally, I feel like my optimistic and oftentimes bubbly disposition exists because of hard work and even pain. Ballerinas are so enchanting and beautiful because of how they move, and most importantly, how easy they make it look. My own ballet experience was minimal, but I can confidently declare that it is tough. In order to train your body to move like a ballerina on pointe, your body must endure painful, laborious, work. Their frames must be kept unhealthily frail, their spines must be flexible to the point of near freakish flexibility, and their feet...their poor toes and ankles receive abuse that leaves them constantly bruised and over-strained. All of this sweaty, painful, perfectionist practice to result in angelic, mesmerizing movements. We can all agree, ballerinas are BEAUTIFUL. But take a look behind the scenes and you feel their pain and exhaustion as well. This is a lot like people. Talk to someone who has endured great hardships, and they will be the one to give you the warmest hug, full-bodied smile, and beautiful testimony to their steadfast faith. Why is it that they seem to be so much more alive than us? Maybe because their worlds are that much richer, deeper, meaningful, and real. The most beautiful insights and perceptions are learned not from psychology studies at prestigious universities or that person who's read every self-help book on getting the most out of life. No. This sweet, sweet intellect is learned from those you'd never expect had anything meaningful to share with you. They are the ones we need to listen to. Again, I know I am so fortunate and am not trying to downplay my blessings for pity or attention. But, come to me with a dilemma or hurt feelings, and I will work to make it all right. I am finally thankful (most of the time) for the struggles and misfortunes I've had; They have given me the tools for empathetic perceptions with which I can comfort and help those who ask. When thinking of all the things that have ever happened or continue to happen in our lives on this earth that are upsetting, seem unfair, and might even cause tears, what if we thought this: I am those pointe shoes. Yes, I am not happy because of an unwelcome (but temporary!) addition to my life. But I welcome it! Because it just makes my ballet dance that much more enchanting.
So in as much of a conclusion as I am capable of deriving right now, how do I define myself and how do I fit into my world? Or really, how does my world fit into our world? First, I am a server. Yes, I wait tables. But I'm not talking carrying food trays and filling diet cokes. My heart-my soul-lives to serve others. I do not feel fulfilled unless I am fulfilling someone else's life in a monumental or even an unnoticeable way. I yearn to understand everyone within our world community, and I strongly desire a connection. I have a hunger for learning and growing that gets my heart beating faster, and sharing my attained knowledge is like Christmas. Now, how do I fit? Possibly a better wording is what is my purpose? I read a mini exercise on how to try and figure out your individual and essential meaning to your life.
1. The usual, how would you live your life differently if you knew you were going to die soon?
2. Who do you admire and why?
3. What was the most fun time in your life?
I won't go into my own answers, but they definitely helped me realize my purpose. I am here to commit acts of compassion and love. Despite any worldly obstacles, I will make sure people feel loved and cared for. I will do my dance, ever changing and growing in beauty, and I will get others dancing too.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Globetrotting it up
I was, and still kind of am, so surprised with myself that I actually backpacked Europe last summer. Now this summer I find myself traveling to East Asia?? Life really is working out well :)
I am writing this from a hotel desk in Seoul, South Korea. It is close to midnight, and I am definitely already adjusted to the time change. Not sleeping this past week really has paid off. But before I enter a coma that is sure to overtake me as soon as my head hits the pillow, I (of course) must write. Hardly anything (relative to the whole excursion) has happened yet, but I am already gushing with stories. Starting from the beginning, here's a simplified play-by-play of my adventure so far:
The night before departure, I finally gave into sleep at 3:30 AM. The plan: wake up at 4:30 to get all ready, packed, and fully prepared without rushing and stressing. The reality: wake up almost an hour later, run around in full blown panic mode, stuff whatever is within reach into my backpack, forget some essentials, and haul it to the airport. Thank you, family, for patiently dealing with my unreasonably distressed manner. Since I stressed so much, life yet again put me in check when I arrived at the airport...second out of ten people total. Maybe next time I'm late I'll remember that it does always work out okay. Maybe.
My adrenaline-infusing shakes were still ripe when I tried to check in. Tried, because after several attempts the screen still confidently announced the nonexistence of any flight itinerary under any of my names. Yet again, stress takes over and my reaction is "I'm not going to Korea today. Well, at least I'll have time to figure out the move, hang out with people, I can still return my backpack..." Hey, at least I was mostly positive! After a very tired and short-fused check in attendant (I apologize for not knowing their real title) finally figured out how to check me in--only after expressing annoyance for my large amount of name variations, like it's never been an annoyance to ME--I'm all set for the flight.
Now to skip ahead. The first flight to LAX was short and uneventful. I sat next to Linda, our group leader. She is the epitome of a sweetheart, with sarcasm and teasing that matches my own. Seeing as we wanted to get to know each other, sleep was still not a part of our agendas. A few girls ended up joining this program late, so their flights were different and we all met up before our Asiana Airlines departure. By the way, that airline is one of the top three best in the world. It's whatever. So anyway, one girl just cannot be reached or found. Having to board, and all praying she's somehow already on the plane, a girl quickly points at me and says "You're in the group!!!" Thank you, facebook for easing all of our identification processes. Alright. Everyone's accounted for, let's get this 12 hour party started. Seeing as most of us hadn't slept and were at the point of delirium, we all got comfortable with each other quickly. Linda and I attempted to watch a movie that we thought was moreso a documentary about cave explorations, but instead centered around lots of flooding, dying, and yelling. I opted for sleep instead of finishing the depressing film, and Linda tried to switch gears by putting on the Smurfs. Within the first 30 seconds of what should be a light and elementary show, their town is flooded when a dam breaks. What an upsetting commonality.
I am so thankful I'm able to sleep relatively easily on planes. I was in the middle, but still managed to pass out for a few hours. Just enough to reboot and regain excitement. Now this airline...talk about service. Warm hand towel? Slippers? Huge, soft blanket? FREE, BOTTLED wine? Authentic and delicious Korean cuisine? Yeah, okay! All served by beautiful, sweet, perfectly bunned up young Korean ladies. My group and I could not get enough. And we weren't even in Korea yet.
Skipping ahead again, all groups connected outside customs in the Incheon airport (voted world's best airport since 2005), we were swiftly herded to a couple buses to go to....nobody knew. Perfectly tying in with this trip's theme: Expect the Unexpected. AKA: Go with the flow because we hardly know anything. We were treated to even more incredibly delicious Korean food, then dropped off at our hotel for the few days of touring. Unpacked, settled, and cleaned up, my exhaustion should not be allowing anything beyond slumber. I guess I'm just a little excited. So far, I've gotten to know a good amount of ASU's 33 member group. I LOVE IT. It's been all laughter and relaxation amongst them, and I am without a doubt that we are going to have an absolute blast together. Beginning bright and early tomorrow morning!! We actually received a somewhat detailed itinerary of our touring days. It seems like we'll even have a "free day" to explore wherever we want. Between the daily tours and nightly outings, there is going to be more adventure than I may know how to handle. So. Excited.
I am thankful for all the positive thoughts and prayers for my safety, and I promise to write more the minute I can. HERE WE GO.
I am writing this from a hotel desk in Seoul, South Korea. It is close to midnight, and I am definitely already adjusted to the time change. Not sleeping this past week really has paid off. But before I enter a coma that is sure to overtake me as soon as my head hits the pillow, I (of course) must write. Hardly anything (relative to the whole excursion) has happened yet, but I am already gushing with stories. Starting from the beginning, here's a simplified play-by-play of my adventure so far:
The night before departure, I finally gave into sleep at 3:30 AM. The plan: wake up at 4:30 to get all ready, packed, and fully prepared without rushing and stressing. The reality: wake up almost an hour later, run around in full blown panic mode, stuff whatever is within reach into my backpack, forget some essentials, and haul it to the airport. Thank you, family, for patiently dealing with my unreasonably distressed manner. Since I stressed so much, life yet again put me in check when I arrived at the airport...second out of ten people total. Maybe next time I'm late I'll remember that it does always work out okay. Maybe.
My adrenaline-infusing shakes were still ripe when I tried to check in. Tried, because after several attempts the screen still confidently announced the nonexistence of any flight itinerary under any of my names. Yet again, stress takes over and my reaction is "I'm not going to Korea today. Well, at least I'll have time to figure out the move, hang out with people, I can still return my backpack..." Hey, at least I was mostly positive! After a very tired and short-fused check in attendant (I apologize for not knowing their real title) finally figured out how to check me in--only after expressing annoyance for my large amount of name variations, like it's never been an annoyance to ME--I'm all set for the flight.
Now to skip ahead. The first flight to LAX was short and uneventful. I sat next to Linda, our group leader. She is the epitome of a sweetheart, with sarcasm and teasing that matches my own. Seeing as we wanted to get to know each other, sleep was still not a part of our agendas. A few girls ended up joining this program late, so their flights were different and we all met up before our Asiana Airlines departure. By the way, that airline is one of the top three best in the world. It's whatever. So anyway, one girl just cannot be reached or found. Having to board, and all praying she's somehow already on the plane, a girl quickly points at me and says "You're in the group!!!" Thank you, facebook for easing all of our identification processes. Alright. Everyone's accounted for, let's get this 12 hour party started. Seeing as most of us hadn't slept and were at the point of delirium, we all got comfortable with each other quickly. Linda and I attempted to watch a movie that we thought was moreso a documentary about cave explorations, but instead centered around lots of flooding, dying, and yelling. I opted for sleep instead of finishing the depressing film, and Linda tried to switch gears by putting on the Smurfs. Within the first 30 seconds of what should be a light and elementary show, their town is flooded when a dam breaks. What an upsetting commonality.
I am so thankful I'm able to sleep relatively easily on planes. I was in the middle, but still managed to pass out for a few hours. Just enough to reboot and regain excitement. Now this airline...talk about service. Warm hand towel? Slippers? Huge, soft blanket? FREE, BOTTLED wine? Authentic and delicious Korean cuisine? Yeah, okay! All served by beautiful, sweet, perfectly bunned up young Korean ladies. My group and I could not get enough. And we weren't even in Korea yet.
Skipping ahead again, all groups connected outside customs in the Incheon airport (voted world's best airport since 2005), we were swiftly herded to a couple buses to go to....nobody knew. Perfectly tying in with this trip's theme: Expect the Unexpected. AKA: Go with the flow because we hardly know anything. We were treated to even more incredibly delicious Korean food, then dropped off at our hotel for the few days of touring. Unpacked, settled, and cleaned up, my exhaustion should not be allowing anything beyond slumber. I guess I'm just a little excited. So far, I've gotten to know a good amount of ASU's 33 member group. I LOVE IT. It's been all laughter and relaxation amongst them, and I am without a doubt that we are going to have an absolute blast together. Beginning bright and early tomorrow morning!! We actually received a somewhat detailed itinerary of our touring days. It seems like we'll even have a "free day" to explore wherever we want. Between the daily tours and nightly outings, there is going to be more adventure than I may know how to handle. So. Excited.
I am thankful for all the positive thoughts and prayers for my safety, and I promise to write more the minute I can. HERE WE GO.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Weekend of Royalty
I am taking a break from my relatively bipolar, intensely introspective posts to document something a little more shallow and way more exciting: VEGAS, BABY!! What a weekend. I will always be able to look back on those three days of my life and enjoy a laugh that brings butterflies. From the moment I woke up Friday morning to this very moment, it was an absolute rollercoaster. Note that rollercoasters have highs AND lows, but I am able to consider this weekend's lows comical.
I'll start with the morning of departure. After a mere couple hours of restless sleep, I awoke to a heartwrenching email. Since the subject had been ongoing for quite some time, it was to the point of envoking feelings of drain and surrender rather than anger. Luckily again, my friend Kate was there to instantly lift me up. I am as close to a zombie as is humanly possible for about the first hour of every day, so I was able to get myself all ready and packed up without issue. Surprisingly even to myself, an old friend was joining Kate and my adventure. I was nervous about how this reunion would unravel, especially in such a high energy setting, but it could not have worked out any better, and I am so thrilled to have invited her. So, after the obvious stop for Starbucks and fbook status announcements, the three of us young and excited ladies were on the road.
None of us had been to Vegas before, so it was up to Mapquest to guide our completely clueless group. Stoked to be out on the open road with the carefully selected and coined "VEGA$$$$" playlist blasting, the highway of never ending stoplights was more than a little disappointing. But only after a couple hours of nonstop girl chat, the open road presented itself. We were off!!!! That is, until a wreckless driver (who definitely never took a drivers ed course and probably shouldn't even be allowed a license) decided it would be amusing to cut me off. Not only that, but then realize it was even more of a mistake to do so since there was a tire in the middle of the lane. Lucky for them, they swerved right back over to their side. Unlucky for me, I didn't have the time or available room to dodge this death trap. The only thing to do: align my car so it goes underneath the middle as opposed to hitting my own tires, and pray FAST. After the screams and booms subsided and we realized we were still alive and traveling in the same direction, I pulled over to assess the damage. None of us said it, but we were all thinking "Vegas is canceled".
Thankfully, Kate had AAA and cell service. After being instructed to leave the car off just in case, we stood around for an hour. In the 100+ heat. In the middle of nowhere. Without A/C. Being honked at several times, but not receiving any good samaritan pull-overs. Finally our hero arrived!! Describing the only visible damage (a wire hanging underneath and a back corner panel dangling) to our knight in shining overalls, our spirits were beginning to lift. That is until we learned that mechanics don't actually have to know anything about cars to be a mechanic. Not even willing to call up a fellow coworker who might know what to do, he finally agreed to rummage through his truck for something to tie up the wire. After he zip-tied (what mechanic doesn't carry duct tape??) the wires up and I kicked back in the panel, we were assured we'd at least make it to Vegas. We all wanted to get there so badly, that was all we needed to hear. Music once again at full blast, we were cruising. Then, another loud pop. The panel was back to dangling/scraping along the cursed Highway 93. This is where I derived my self-acclaimed nickname, "MacGyvette". Cheesy, of course. My car's name is Cindy the Civic and I still think knee slapping over a bad joke is appropriate. I'm a cheesemeister. Anyway, we pulled out the big guns after this second highway pull-over. Rounding up whatever we could find, we secured that panel with skills that couldn't be taught. ....we tied about ten hair ties together, looped it through whatever loop we could find, and secured it with a twig. Shear genius. After another stop due to the hair ties (remaining intact!) being too loose and stretchy, I cut up an old iPod radio transmitter to finish the job. Thing of beauty. This is when a cop finally decides to enter the scene. Only to catch us littering the scrap iPod cord pieces and ask why a phone charger was looped around my car. I am very proud to declare that I finally was able to talk to a cop without shaking AND not receive a ticket. After all, I was headed to VEGAS. Nothing would get me down.
My passengers were in need of some hype boostage, so they set to work cracking open a warm Dos with scissors, keys, minimal blood, and finally, success via an eyelash curler. Females are always much, much more prepared than we realize. Playing every song related to Las Vegas or "The Hangover", we rolled onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Here. We. Go.
Quickly changing into sundresses and wedges (we all had an intense urge to feel pretty after a hot and dusty ride in), we hit the town. First things first: FOOD! This is when we first discovered how incredible Vegas was about to be. As we hastily attacked our Baja Fresh burritos, a young man fresh from the pool approached us. My first thoughts: Why is this dude disrupting our heavenly meal, and WHY did he approach three chicks gorging down messy food like starving lions? Without too much of an introduction, he got down to business (I appreciated his style). If we wanted, he would put us on a VIP list for an exclusive club, where we would skip the lines, enter for free, and hang out in expensive cabanas with richie riches, all FOR FREE. All he needed-an okay and a number. Vegas, I love you.
Only able to explore a few hotels before dark, we headed back to our room to begin the extensive yet necessary process of getting ourselves beautiful. It was clearly our first time, since we weren't ready until about two hours after we were supposed to be at the first club. Running out the door, it was a unanimous vote to ditch the heels within minutes. We had places to be. We'll look good later. While Mikkel and Kate ran to keep up with my praying mantis legs, I guided us with solid efficiency down to the complete opposite end of the strip. Over an hour later, we finally made it. Quickly strapping back on the painful yet gorgeous heels to cover our jet black feet, we strut our stuff right into that club. No lines, no fees, only smiles and butterflies. We ended up spending our first night at Surrender with some guys, mostly from Canada, who were in town for an entire month for a poker tournament. These boys...around my ripe age...were winning millions of dollars. Lucky for them, I was there to educate them on the humanitarian way to spend their winnings. We'll just pretend that's what they wanted to hear. One of them was even insisting I let him take me skydiving the next morning! I almost consented, too. A girl who can't even climb a step ladder without fluttered breath almost jumped out of a plane because...When in Vegas! After yelling at the cab driver for trying to take advantage of us and our money, we made it back to our hotel. And it was only 6:00 AM. Night One: Success.
Saturday started a couple hours later than planned, but deep down we all knew that was going to happen. Throwing on swim suits and mixing up mimosas for the walk, we began the semi painful journey to find food and then a pool. After locating the food court that we unsuccessfully saught after the night before, we gulfed down some beloved Panda bowls. Thennn wanted to throw them up. The evening before, a man in a pimp suit sold us tons of free admission passes to pool parties and night clubs in some back alley, so us lucky girls had options. Trying to mix it up, we scratched going to the pool close to last night's club, and headed to Liquid at Hotel Aria. Being escorted through a huge resort with several pools, we were confused when told we weren't at Liquid yet. Then we heard the bass and shouts. Walking into Liquid, we were all immediately energized. What a party. The ladies were all trying to look sexy while they sunbathed and danced, while the boys attacked each other with squirt guns like they were all ten years old again. What a setup for a psychoanalyzer like myself! Smiles on and moods lifted by the cool water, it was time to sit and wait for our drinks. Our friend Kate is a master at getting us drinks without even doing anything. Everyone just knows she's a sweetheart. And apparently I look unapproachable so good thing I had her! Some guy offered to buy us pina coladas and daiquiris within minutes. Once again, so thankful for that double X chromosome. Getting annihilated by those damn squirt guns immediately, I was wondering how high maintenance chicks handled this place. We stayed there until it closed at 6:00, having met several new highly entertaining friends. From Nicholas Cage's ginormous and filthy rich body guard, to young lawyers and goofy big dudes, the spectrum was covered. The one coincidence among all Vegas men: Money. I don't know how common that actually is, of course, but we went from hanging with successful gamblers to inheritance lawyers like it was totally normal. Again, girls get taken care of in this city.
Back to the hotel for a quick power nap, it was onto round two. Improving a little from last night, we were out the door while the night was still young. Hitting club Haze in hotel Aria first, I couldn't have felt more like a princess. Cutting all the lines and meeting men in tuxes with their bent arms awaiting mine, we again were escorted to VIP tables. One security guard even told us we had to move literally one foot toward another table since the girls at that specific table did not want us there. Then their men bought us drinks. Good thing my ego had plenty of room to rise coming into this place! The crowds, the lights, the music, the go-go dancers with the most amazing costumes I've ever seen...I almost made a career change right then and there. I was determined to hit more than one club this night, so I pulled on my mama pants and got us going on to the next club: The Bank at the luxurious Bellagio. Here, we met up with some guys from the pool earlier, and again received free drinks everywhere we turned. Unfortunately, Kate wasn't feeling too good (she was in no way used to this desert heat) and needed to go back to the hotel room before I could tear up the dance floor. We soon learned that we were at least 15 parties behind in a line for a cab, which is when another Vegas bucket list item got checked off. One guy that was with us saw a vacant limo and made the executive decision (like anyone would argue) that it would be our taxi. Hello, limo down Las Vegas Boulevard at 4:30 AM!!! After getting Kate all tucked away, it was back out to the strip. Wanting just a quick snack, we ended up wandering hotels unsuccessfully for far too long. Finally settling on good ol' Denny's, we watched the sun rise and yet again, Mikkel and I did not have to pay a dime. I was still hungry for adventure, so while Mikkel went to bed, my new friend and I set off to see the rest of the sun rise by a pool. Although everything else is 24 hours, apparently pool attendants want to rebel. Unable to carry out that master plan, I still enjoyed a fun conversation that made me feel priceless. Ending the night at a mere 7:00 AM, I curled into bed one happy camper.
The drive home began three hours later than planned, but again, we all knew that was inevitable. The five hour drive down the barren desert highway was in no way as exhilarating as the drive up, and it took everything in me to remain awake and sane. Delirium, I later realized, set in before the drive had even begun. But my guardian angels are hard workers, and we got Kate off to the airport on time and all made it home safely. I have had two days to recover, and I hardly even drank. I fully understand how others go through legitimate withdrawal after leaving that place. However, I am already too antsy to go back. There is still SO much left to explore, and who doesn't enjoy being called beautiful and doted on all day and night? Now that I know how inexpensive it really is for girls, guaranteed I'll be planning my next trip very soon. I feel rejuvenated, motivated, and so special and beautiful. This trip could not have happened at a better time.
Now it is back to reality. Time to figure out school, my Korea trip, moving out of my apartment, and all the other tasks on my never ending list of things to do in less than two weeks. That is all quite a story as well, but that'll be for another post. Ecstatic for all the adventures that await me, I have regained hope unknown to myself for a little too long. Just once more, for good measure....VEGAS, BABYY.
I'll start with the morning of departure. After a mere couple hours of restless sleep, I awoke to a heartwrenching email. Since the subject had been ongoing for quite some time, it was to the point of envoking feelings of drain and surrender rather than anger. Luckily again, my friend Kate was there to instantly lift me up. I am as close to a zombie as is humanly possible for about the first hour of every day, so I was able to get myself all ready and packed up without issue. Surprisingly even to myself, an old friend was joining Kate and my adventure. I was nervous about how this reunion would unravel, especially in such a high energy setting, but it could not have worked out any better, and I am so thrilled to have invited her. So, after the obvious stop for Starbucks and fbook status announcements, the three of us young and excited ladies were on the road.
None of us had been to Vegas before, so it was up to Mapquest to guide our completely clueless group. Stoked to be out on the open road with the carefully selected and coined "VEGA$$$$" playlist blasting, the highway of never ending stoplights was more than a little disappointing. But only after a couple hours of nonstop girl chat, the open road presented itself. We were off!!!! That is, until a wreckless driver (who definitely never took a drivers ed course and probably shouldn't even be allowed a license) decided it would be amusing to cut me off. Not only that, but then realize it was even more of a mistake to do so since there was a tire in the middle of the lane. Lucky for them, they swerved right back over to their side. Unlucky for me, I didn't have the time or available room to dodge this death trap. The only thing to do: align my car so it goes underneath the middle as opposed to hitting my own tires, and pray FAST. After the screams and booms subsided and we realized we were still alive and traveling in the same direction, I pulled over to assess the damage. None of us said it, but we were all thinking "Vegas is canceled".
Thankfully, Kate had AAA and cell service. After being instructed to leave the car off just in case, we stood around for an hour. In the 100+ heat. In the middle of nowhere. Without A/C. Being honked at several times, but not receiving any good samaritan pull-overs. Finally our hero arrived!! Describing the only visible damage (a wire hanging underneath and a back corner panel dangling) to our knight in shining overalls, our spirits were beginning to lift. That is until we learned that mechanics don't actually have to know anything about cars to be a mechanic. Not even willing to call up a fellow coworker who might know what to do, he finally agreed to rummage through his truck for something to tie up the wire. After he zip-tied (what mechanic doesn't carry duct tape??) the wires up and I kicked back in the panel, we were assured we'd at least make it to Vegas. We all wanted to get there so badly, that was all we needed to hear. Music once again at full blast, we were cruising. Then, another loud pop. The panel was back to dangling/scraping along the cursed Highway 93. This is where I derived my self-acclaimed nickname, "MacGyvette". Cheesy, of course. My car's name is Cindy the Civic and I still think knee slapping over a bad joke is appropriate. I'm a cheesemeister. Anyway, we pulled out the big guns after this second highway pull-over. Rounding up whatever we could find, we secured that panel with skills that couldn't be taught. ....we tied about ten hair ties together, looped it through whatever loop we could find, and secured it with a twig. Shear genius. After another stop due to the hair ties (remaining intact!) being too loose and stretchy, I cut up an old iPod radio transmitter to finish the job. Thing of beauty. This is when a cop finally decides to enter the scene. Only to catch us littering the scrap iPod cord pieces and ask why a phone charger was looped around my car. I am very proud to declare that I finally was able to talk to a cop without shaking AND not receive a ticket. After all, I was headed to VEGAS. Nothing would get me down.
My passengers were in need of some hype boostage, so they set to work cracking open a warm Dos with scissors, keys, minimal blood, and finally, success via an eyelash curler. Females are always much, much more prepared than we realize. Playing every song related to Las Vegas or "The Hangover", we rolled onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Here. We. Go.
Quickly changing into sundresses and wedges (we all had an intense urge to feel pretty after a hot and dusty ride in), we hit the town. First things first: FOOD! This is when we first discovered how incredible Vegas was about to be. As we hastily attacked our Baja Fresh burritos, a young man fresh from the pool approached us. My first thoughts: Why is this dude disrupting our heavenly meal, and WHY did he approach three chicks gorging down messy food like starving lions? Without too much of an introduction, he got down to business (I appreciated his style). If we wanted, he would put us on a VIP list for an exclusive club, where we would skip the lines, enter for free, and hang out in expensive cabanas with richie riches, all FOR FREE. All he needed-an okay and a number. Vegas, I love you.
Only able to explore a few hotels before dark, we headed back to our room to begin the extensive yet necessary process of getting ourselves beautiful. It was clearly our first time, since we weren't ready until about two hours after we were supposed to be at the first club. Running out the door, it was a unanimous vote to ditch the heels within minutes. We had places to be. We'll look good later. While Mikkel and Kate ran to keep up with my praying mantis legs, I guided us with solid efficiency down to the complete opposite end of the strip. Over an hour later, we finally made it. Quickly strapping back on the painful yet gorgeous heels to cover our jet black feet, we strut our stuff right into that club. No lines, no fees, only smiles and butterflies. We ended up spending our first night at Surrender with some guys, mostly from Canada, who were in town for an entire month for a poker tournament. These boys...around my ripe age...were winning millions of dollars. Lucky for them, I was there to educate them on the humanitarian way to spend their winnings. We'll just pretend that's what they wanted to hear. One of them was even insisting I let him take me skydiving the next morning! I almost consented, too. A girl who can't even climb a step ladder without fluttered breath almost jumped out of a plane because...When in Vegas! After yelling at the cab driver for trying to take advantage of us and our money, we made it back to our hotel. And it was only 6:00 AM. Night One: Success.
Saturday started a couple hours later than planned, but deep down we all knew that was going to happen. Throwing on swim suits and mixing up mimosas for the walk, we began the semi painful journey to find food and then a pool. After locating the food court that we unsuccessfully saught after the night before, we gulfed down some beloved Panda bowls. Thennn wanted to throw them up. The evening before, a man in a pimp suit sold us tons of free admission passes to pool parties and night clubs in some back alley, so us lucky girls had options. Trying to mix it up, we scratched going to the pool close to last night's club, and headed to Liquid at Hotel Aria. Being escorted through a huge resort with several pools, we were confused when told we weren't at Liquid yet. Then we heard the bass and shouts. Walking into Liquid, we were all immediately energized. What a party. The ladies were all trying to look sexy while they sunbathed and danced, while the boys attacked each other with squirt guns like they were all ten years old again. What a setup for a psychoanalyzer like myself! Smiles on and moods lifted by the cool water, it was time to sit and wait for our drinks. Our friend Kate is a master at getting us drinks without even doing anything. Everyone just knows she's a sweetheart. And apparently I look unapproachable so good thing I had her! Some guy offered to buy us pina coladas and daiquiris within minutes. Once again, so thankful for that double X chromosome. Getting annihilated by those damn squirt guns immediately, I was wondering how high maintenance chicks handled this place. We stayed there until it closed at 6:00, having met several new highly entertaining friends. From Nicholas Cage's ginormous and filthy rich body guard, to young lawyers and goofy big dudes, the spectrum was covered. The one coincidence among all Vegas men: Money. I don't know how common that actually is, of course, but we went from hanging with successful gamblers to inheritance lawyers like it was totally normal. Again, girls get taken care of in this city.
Back to the hotel for a quick power nap, it was onto round two. Improving a little from last night, we were out the door while the night was still young. Hitting club Haze in hotel Aria first, I couldn't have felt more like a princess. Cutting all the lines and meeting men in tuxes with their bent arms awaiting mine, we again were escorted to VIP tables. One security guard even told us we had to move literally one foot toward another table since the girls at that specific table did not want us there. Then their men bought us drinks. Good thing my ego had plenty of room to rise coming into this place! The crowds, the lights, the music, the go-go dancers with the most amazing costumes I've ever seen...I almost made a career change right then and there. I was determined to hit more than one club this night, so I pulled on my mama pants and got us going on to the next club: The Bank at the luxurious Bellagio. Here, we met up with some guys from the pool earlier, and again received free drinks everywhere we turned. Unfortunately, Kate wasn't feeling too good (she was in no way used to this desert heat) and needed to go back to the hotel room before I could tear up the dance floor. We soon learned that we were at least 15 parties behind in a line for a cab, which is when another Vegas bucket list item got checked off. One guy that was with us saw a vacant limo and made the executive decision (like anyone would argue) that it would be our taxi. Hello, limo down Las Vegas Boulevard at 4:30 AM!!! After getting Kate all tucked away, it was back out to the strip. Wanting just a quick snack, we ended up wandering hotels unsuccessfully for far too long. Finally settling on good ol' Denny's, we watched the sun rise and yet again, Mikkel and I did not have to pay a dime. I was still hungry for adventure, so while Mikkel went to bed, my new friend and I set off to see the rest of the sun rise by a pool. Although everything else is 24 hours, apparently pool attendants want to rebel. Unable to carry out that master plan, I still enjoyed a fun conversation that made me feel priceless. Ending the night at a mere 7:00 AM, I curled into bed one happy camper.
The drive home began three hours later than planned, but again, we all knew that was inevitable. The five hour drive down the barren desert highway was in no way as exhilarating as the drive up, and it took everything in me to remain awake and sane. Delirium, I later realized, set in before the drive had even begun. But my guardian angels are hard workers, and we got Kate off to the airport on time and all made it home safely. I have had two days to recover, and I hardly even drank. I fully understand how others go through legitimate withdrawal after leaving that place. However, I am already too antsy to go back. There is still SO much left to explore, and who doesn't enjoy being called beautiful and doted on all day and night? Now that I know how inexpensive it really is for girls, guaranteed I'll be planning my next trip very soon. I feel rejuvenated, motivated, and so special and beautiful. This trip could not have happened at a better time.
Now it is back to reality. Time to figure out school, my Korea trip, moving out of my apartment, and all the other tasks on my never ending list of things to do in less than two weeks. That is all quite a story as well, but that'll be for another post. Ecstatic for all the adventures that await me, I have regained hope unknown to myself for a little too long. Just once more, for good measure....VEGAS, BABYY.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Everything in Moderation--Including Feeling
I find myself amidst increased desperation for triumphant and satisfying feelings. By that, I mean the life incline is increasing and I'm even more motivated to make it to the top of this mountain that is my summer. I leave for a weekend in Sin City in less than eight hours, where sleep is a foreign concept, yet I have been bottled up long enough that if I didn't get this blog written, my conscious will be much too flooded with melancholy to enjoy the chaotic exhilaration that awaits.
All cryptic lingo aside, I was thrown another life test. My heart, which I can never seem to remember to tuck back into my sleeve, has once again received a beating. Let's tally some positives here, though: I have a loyal, understanding, and loving best friend by my side to provide that much-needed shoulder, the busy plans and distractions are abundant, and in the end, I know I am not at all to blame. Instead of feeling like I messed up, I actually have the confidence to maintain pride and self-appreciation. That all being said, my frustrations and sadness have reached their tipping point. This is definite, considering I did something that was polar opposite of my entire essence and being. And I don't regret it. THANKFULLY, I can come up with some means of getting out of this rut that threatens to strip me of my hope and drive. Nothing is definite yet, but I'm devising a plan as well as back up plans to not just endure, but greatly improve my well-being. Here's to faith reassuring me that I WILL be running down the best path. Yes, running. Walking is in no way sufficient, as far as I am concerned.
My greatest frustration has got to be the undeniable fact that I feel too much. A dad lightly spanks his temperamental child within my peripheral vision, and I feel nauseous. A stray animal wanders the hot and unfriendly roads, and my eyes begin to well up. Most directly, any action or word said to me by a friend or complete stranger, be it loving or hurtful, and boom--heavy impact. This enables me to be euphoric with gratitude and empowerment, but it also weighs me down like I really do have the cold world sitting on my shoulders. Thank goodness I got to take some acting classes back in the day so I can portray vast dispositions on the spot, but inside, my mind is a whirlwind of more feeling than should ever be felt within a lifetime. It's so hard to try and describe the goings-on in my mind; I have yet to find anyone else who can put it in the exact words that I desperately wish I knew. But for now, the best way I can figure out how to describe it all is simply to support the irrefutable statement: Everything in moderation. This time I am not backing it up with examples of chocolates or alcohol, but the amount one feels is definitely another key component to health. The pendulum is equal on both sides. If one experiences feeling happiness to such an extent, sadness must also reach that extent on the other side. Especially during this extremely difficult time of my life, I wish my pendulum was exceptionally smaller.
All cryptic lingo aside, I was thrown another life test. My heart, which I can never seem to remember to tuck back into my sleeve, has once again received a beating. Let's tally some positives here, though: I have a loyal, understanding, and loving best friend by my side to provide that much-needed shoulder, the busy plans and distractions are abundant, and in the end, I know I am not at all to blame. Instead of feeling like I messed up, I actually have the confidence to maintain pride and self-appreciation. That all being said, my frustrations and sadness have reached their tipping point. This is definite, considering I did something that was polar opposite of my entire essence and being. And I don't regret it. THANKFULLY, I can come up with some means of getting out of this rut that threatens to strip me of my hope and drive. Nothing is definite yet, but I'm devising a plan as well as back up plans to not just endure, but greatly improve my well-being. Here's to faith reassuring me that I WILL be running down the best path. Yes, running. Walking is in no way sufficient, as far as I am concerned.
My greatest frustration has got to be the undeniable fact that I feel too much. A dad lightly spanks his temperamental child within my peripheral vision, and I feel nauseous. A stray animal wanders the hot and unfriendly roads, and my eyes begin to well up. Most directly, any action or word said to me by a friend or complete stranger, be it loving or hurtful, and boom--heavy impact. This enables me to be euphoric with gratitude and empowerment, but it also weighs me down like I really do have the cold world sitting on my shoulders. Thank goodness I got to take some acting classes back in the day so I can portray vast dispositions on the spot, but inside, my mind is a whirlwind of more feeling than should ever be felt within a lifetime. It's so hard to try and describe the goings-on in my mind; I have yet to find anyone else who can put it in the exact words that I desperately wish I knew. But for now, the best way I can figure out how to describe it all is simply to support the irrefutable statement: Everything in moderation. This time I am not backing it up with examples of chocolates or alcohol, but the amount one feels is definitely another key component to health. The pendulum is equal on both sides. If one experiences feeling happiness to such an extent, sadness must also reach that extent on the other side. Especially during this extremely difficult time of my life, I wish my pendulum was exceptionally smaller.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Moving Forward
The amout of emotions that just one day can encompass is exhausting. Today, in a mere three hours, I have gone from excited, to confident, to thankful, to frustrated, and now to morose. Take it as a sign that I am very much alive? My bed beckons me to come escape this moment, but I know chances are slim that I'll wake up again and be cured of this unwelcome sadness. I feel like I don't necessarily have anything groundbreaking or important to write, but this is my attempt to overthrow this bad mood by means other than my usual prescription of sleep. Ohh how I wish my cells and neurons fired and worked as they are supposed to. This chemical imbalance bs is quite the burden. Maybe I should become a noetic scientist so I can think them into working properly! Or is that just one big paradox? (I had to look that word up. Been trying to remember it for over a week now. Thank you, google!! Lesson of the day: a paradox is like an oxymoron, except an oxymoron pairs two contradicting words side by side. I.E. sweet sorrow. You're welcome.)
I do have a great deal to be thankful for, solely based on today. I have healthy foods awaiting the slightest stomach growl, my parents paid for my car's oil chance and trunk repair as only a part of my birthday present, and I only have to work a relatively low stress shift at work tonight, where I will end up with more money than I had yesterday AND will put me just two more shifts away from retirement from serving burgers and infinite diet cokes. Yes, infinite. That's how many diet cokes Americans demand. But it's okay! Because it's diet. What shrewd marketing. I even heard from someone today that said things I've been yearning to hear, temporarily boosting my confidence and hope ten fold.
I suppose I could read a book to wait out this mood slump. Too bad the "comical" book I purchased has me more concerned for children with inadequate parents and fills my heart with grief, as opposed to the actual goal of laughter and eye rolls. I just might be a little too sensitive.
Despite this annoying mood, my light at the end of the tunnel that is the month of June is almost here! My friend is flying down to the desert (mid summer, too! Such heroic dedication) for an entire week of shenanigans. She gets in Saturday night, and from that minute on, my life will be nonstop adventure for two solid months. Hopefully more follows. This next declaration may seem a tad over the top, bold, or overly confident, but I promise it to be an understatement. My friends are the best people this world has ever produced. I'm not saying they're the only people to fit in that hefty category, but they are certainly included in it. Time and time again, they prove in small or large ways, how to love and care for others. They are role models everyone should follow. I could write a million blogs on examples, but I'll just go with the one most pertinent to this post. Kate, who I never knew as someone to want a job, then keep it, then work hard at it, is busting her butt in two jobs right now. When one of her places of work temporarily shut down, she made up for the hours by selling clothes, donating plasma, and pinching pennies like they've never been pinched. Why is she working SO hard? To afford a visit to hellishly hot Arizona for her friend's birthday. The minute I confided that I forsaw having to spend my 21 Run alone or with a couple family members only, she put the gears in motion to make sure I had the best birthday in 21 years. She hasn't even arrived yet, but I'm already having the time of my life just planning our week together. My friends are the BEST.
I will be spending the next two nights in my apartment, as opposed to my parent's condo, and I admit I'm nervous. Like I made known previously, I need to be around others. I've lined up projects and tasks to fill my time while I'm there, and now just to pray for the motivation and willpower to do them. If all else fails, So You Think You Can Dance is long, inspiring, and always a good time.
To whoever reads these entries, thank you for your greatly appreciated feedback. I hope they at least mildly entertain :)
I do have a great deal to be thankful for, solely based on today. I have healthy foods awaiting the slightest stomach growl, my parents paid for my car's oil chance and trunk repair as only a part of my birthday present, and I only have to work a relatively low stress shift at work tonight, where I will end up with more money than I had yesterday AND will put me just two more shifts away from retirement from serving burgers and infinite diet cokes. Yes, infinite. That's how many diet cokes Americans demand. But it's okay! Because it's diet. What shrewd marketing. I even heard from someone today that said things I've been yearning to hear, temporarily boosting my confidence and hope ten fold.
I suppose I could read a book to wait out this mood slump. Too bad the "comical" book I purchased has me more concerned for children with inadequate parents and fills my heart with grief, as opposed to the actual goal of laughter and eye rolls. I just might be a little too sensitive.
Despite this annoying mood, my light at the end of the tunnel that is the month of June is almost here! My friend is flying down to the desert (mid summer, too! Such heroic dedication) for an entire week of shenanigans. She gets in Saturday night, and from that minute on, my life will be nonstop adventure for two solid months. Hopefully more follows. This next declaration may seem a tad over the top, bold, or overly confident, but I promise it to be an understatement. My friends are the best people this world has ever produced. I'm not saying they're the only people to fit in that hefty category, but they are certainly included in it. Time and time again, they prove in small or large ways, how to love and care for others. They are role models everyone should follow. I could write a million blogs on examples, but I'll just go with the one most pertinent to this post. Kate, who I never knew as someone to want a job, then keep it, then work hard at it, is busting her butt in two jobs right now. When one of her places of work temporarily shut down, she made up for the hours by selling clothes, donating plasma, and pinching pennies like they've never been pinched. Why is she working SO hard? To afford a visit to hellishly hot Arizona for her friend's birthday. The minute I confided that I forsaw having to spend my 21 Run alone or with a couple family members only, she put the gears in motion to make sure I had the best birthday in 21 years. She hasn't even arrived yet, but I'm already having the time of my life just planning our week together. My friends are the BEST.
I will be spending the next two nights in my apartment, as opposed to my parent's condo, and I admit I'm nervous. Like I made known previously, I need to be around others. I've lined up projects and tasks to fill my time while I'm there, and now just to pray for the motivation and willpower to do them. If all else fails, So You Think You Can Dance is long, inspiring, and always a good time.
To whoever reads these entries, thank you for your greatly appreciated feedback. I hope they at least mildly entertain :)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Serenity
I have never been "good at" being alone. As valuable as "me time" is, being around people is much, much more valuable to me. I've been living alone for six months now, and I am more than ready to have roommates again-Even if those roommates are my family members. I was told everyone needs to live alone at some point in their life, and I do agree. I was challenged in new ways, and learned things about myself that would still be unknown otherwise. Lessons behind me, I cannot wait to come home to the opposite of a hot, empty apartment with scary neighbors. Amidst all the lonely and sad nights that have unwelcomely embraced me, alas a night of peace and calm. With my warm tea, soft music, and mellow ruminations, I am able to enjoy the winding down of a pleasant day. I was blessed with good company and tear-ignited laughter today. Who knew inflatable pool toys and young women unafraid of looking goofy and taking chances would produce so much joy?
As I take on the mountainous challenge of independence after a year and a half of relationship engulfment, I am proud-and quite frankly surprised-at my ability to actually be climbing up that mountain already. I have sought advice from those I look up to, let myself be sad, and above all mustered up resilience to rise to the top. I am even beginning to be thankful for this road bump. It comes in small waves, but it's a start.
I wrote a letter of which the subject may never even read, but oh the release from simply writing! It seems as if a fire has been lit...
With everything in me, I will make this week productive, positive, and it WILL fly by. Once Friday ends, it will be nothing but adventures, excitement, and learning. None of which I know how to prepare or what to expect. Just what I need. The ultimate challenge for a [self-diagnosed] OCD planner: line up months of grand adventures in unknown territories (physically and figuratively) with absolute minimal information given. I have complained and complained about it, but now I am ready to accept the challenge. Bring it.
I know falling asleep will still be a challenge, as will getting out of bed tomorrow and the next day. But God continues to provide comfort, encouragement, and courage that will always carry me through. Now to practice the daunting exercise of meditation to my rain sounds app.
There will always be better days. Today is the reminder I needed. Here's to tomorrow being even better (This self-motivating pep talk is just the first step).
As I take on the mountainous challenge of independence after a year and a half of relationship engulfment, I am proud-and quite frankly surprised-at my ability to actually be climbing up that mountain already. I have sought advice from those I look up to, let myself be sad, and above all mustered up resilience to rise to the top. I am even beginning to be thankful for this road bump. It comes in small waves, but it's a start.
I wrote a letter of which the subject may never even read, but oh the release from simply writing! It seems as if a fire has been lit...
With everything in me, I will make this week productive, positive, and it WILL fly by. Once Friday ends, it will be nothing but adventures, excitement, and learning. None of which I know how to prepare or what to expect. Just what I need. The ultimate challenge for a [self-diagnosed] OCD planner: line up months of grand adventures in unknown territories (physically and figuratively) with absolute minimal information given. I have complained and complained about it, but now I am ready to accept the challenge. Bring it.
I know falling asleep will still be a challenge, as will getting out of bed tomorrow and the next day. But God continues to provide comfort, encouragement, and courage that will always carry me through. Now to practice the daunting exercise of meditation to my rain sounds app.
There will always be better days. Today is the reminder I needed. Here's to tomorrow being even better (This self-motivating pep talk is just the first step).
Sunday, June 19, 2011
I'm back.
It has been about a year since writing on here. As someone who has always enjoyed leisurely writing, this is a big deal. Now that I have the time/made the time for such an activity, it's taken me far too long to know how to even begin. I'm not on an epic backpacking trip across multiple countries, so knowing where to begin is just a little more challenging. However, I have had way, WAY too much bottled up that even though i just got off an 8.5 hour grueling shift and have to wake up to begin my next day in just a few short hours, I. Must. Write. On the half hour drive on the empty freeway home, I finally knew how to begin writing again. Some people are able to just jump right in and "just start writing", but I am a planner to the full extent. So, here's to finally "getting back on that horse". I'm feeling uplifted already.
It is beautiful-the peace and clear minded thoughts that flood the mind and soul while driving long distances with soft music. I always anticipate the ride to be lonely and monotonous, but once I get out on the road and start up that thought-provoking and soothing playlist, I don't want it to end. I may not have a place to go sit and listen to the waves lap the shoreline with the consistency of which I deeply yearn, but long, late drives are a sensible second choice. While driving, I am still but not stagnant. I am alone, but surrounded and engulfed by the melodies and lyrics that make me miss contemporary dancing, and just move me unlike anything else can. I am on my way to a destination, but able to be nowhere. Just for a little while. I am thankful for these drives.
Now to finally get to my main point of this post. What I realized and snowballed ideas off of with more and more clarity--and uncertainty. I'm tearing at my nails just trying to organize and remember everything I just considered. The point is this-I really do not know nearly as much as I confidently believed I did. Not a groundbreaking and new thought in the slightest, but I'll explain. Like the story of any and every individual, I have grown and developed in character, personality, opinion, confidence, and intelligence. Due to my continuous moving around to over 20 homes in just my 20 years of life, my growing process was accelerated faster than "average". On top of that, I have always been an incredibly, admittedly overly deep thinker. Introspection is my specialty and psychoanalysis is my passtime. Always has been, My entire life has been a desperately driven race to understand more and more. The whys about nature, people, relationships, the world, the weather, academics, faiths, friends, issues and negatives, as well as the positives and good things. Over this past school year, I felt as if I had finally undergone an epiphany and had all the [possible] answers. Finally! I had the utmost confidence in who I was and every detail to explain why, the same for any and all types of people, and I even knew the answer to life itself. I finally reached the top of that mountain and was so very satisfied. I'm not saying I was totally off here-I do have a very, very deep understanding of myself and pretty deep of others too. And now that I have realized so much about the world and how to live in it, the same answer continues to pop up everywhere I turn. This being said, I decided now that I know who I am and am content about it, I have to practice dealing with myself. I'm past the seeking, molding, and uncertainties, and ready to apply what I know in order to embrace my full potential. It really sounds like I'm set, doesn't it? Life should be a breeze and my shoulders should be free from worry. But..if this is the case, then why am I still so unhappy? Once again, the introspective self-analyzing overtook my conscience as I clawed for answers. Now, tonight, through the realization that I know and understand far, far less than I confidently thought I knew, I actually understand just a little more. Clouds are slowly being lifted.
1. I am not a type of person who flourishes in a desert terrain. Arizona is not for me and never will be. But...where DO I belong? Where in this world is my comfort zone of peace and happiness? I actually do not know yet. (But I have a solid start in figuring that out)
2. I know my "calling" or "purpose" is to teach. I am a nurturer who has the heart and intelligence to raise young minds to flourish. But...how do I actually prepare? How do I actually accomplish the outlandish and inhuman goals/tasks that are ordered? What WILL I do when I fail (In my eyes)? How will I make sure not to lose myself entirely in my job? How...do I be a successful educator?
3. On a more basic level, I know what hobbies make me smile and what clothing styles make me feel priceless. But...who's to say these won't change in five years? It will all be totally unknown to anyone for five years.
4. I know the types of relationships I want, and I know the type of relational friend, etc. that I want to be to others. But...when will what I want/need/deserve actually happen? What chances do I take and which ones do I dismiss? (not EVERY single chance can be taken) How long until I can give as much as I naturally always do, without giving too much so it becomes detrimental and unhealthy to myself? Where, oh where can I find this happy medium?
5. I know everything happens for some reason. But...when do I take action and when do I let it be?
6. Finally, I know I am special and important to others. I know I am loved and I know I am prayed for. But....when will I actually BELIEVE this? When will i FEEL special?
These are just the start to my unsettling and melancholy subconscience. At least for now, I realize one thing. Life is not doing its job if it is not hurling unknowns at you without a hint of how to endure and conquer. As much as we study, interpret, research, declare, or understand, life is always going to one-up us and push us down on our asses. As a being of emotions, needs, and decisions, how do I rise above? Or do I just settle with knowing that I will never know enough and must always be prepared for unknowns?
I have lately been mulling over the thought of if it would be better to be naiive and content/happy, or be as insightful as I am and more distressed. Again, where is this happy medium??
As the clock ticks on, I can feel my thoughts becoming even more scattered than normal. I am hoping getting my thoughts out will be much easier now that I've started this patchwork of words and ideas. --That's funny, patchwork prints are my choice patterns right now. Reflection on my current state of mind carrying over to fashion??
Until my next late night drive......
It is beautiful-the peace and clear minded thoughts that flood the mind and soul while driving long distances with soft music. I always anticipate the ride to be lonely and monotonous, but once I get out on the road and start up that thought-provoking and soothing playlist, I don't want it to end. I may not have a place to go sit and listen to the waves lap the shoreline with the consistency of which I deeply yearn, but long, late drives are a sensible second choice. While driving, I am still but not stagnant. I am alone, but surrounded and engulfed by the melodies and lyrics that make me miss contemporary dancing, and just move me unlike anything else can. I am on my way to a destination, but able to be nowhere. Just for a little while. I am thankful for these drives.
Now to finally get to my main point of this post. What I realized and snowballed ideas off of with more and more clarity--and uncertainty. I'm tearing at my nails just trying to organize and remember everything I just considered. The point is this-I really do not know nearly as much as I confidently believed I did. Not a groundbreaking and new thought in the slightest, but I'll explain. Like the story of any and every individual, I have grown and developed in character, personality, opinion, confidence, and intelligence. Due to my continuous moving around to over 20 homes in just my 20 years of life, my growing process was accelerated faster than "average". On top of that, I have always been an incredibly, admittedly overly deep thinker. Introspection is my specialty and psychoanalysis is my passtime. Always has been, My entire life has been a desperately driven race to understand more and more. The whys about nature, people, relationships, the world, the weather, academics, faiths, friends, issues and negatives, as well as the positives and good things. Over this past school year, I felt as if I had finally undergone an epiphany and had all the [possible] answers. Finally! I had the utmost confidence in who I was and every detail to explain why, the same for any and all types of people, and I even knew the answer to life itself. I finally reached the top of that mountain and was so very satisfied. I'm not saying I was totally off here-I do have a very, very deep understanding of myself and pretty deep of others too. And now that I have realized so much about the world and how to live in it, the same answer continues to pop up everywhere I turn. This being said, I decided now that I know who I am and am content about it, I have to practice dealing with myself. I'm past the seeking, molding, and uncertainties, and ready to apply what I know in order to embrace my full potential. It really sounds like I'm set, doesn't it? Life should be a breeze and my shoulders should be free from worry. But..if this is the case, then why am I still so unhappy? Once again, the introspective self-analyzing overtook my conscience as I clawed for answers. Now, tonight, through the realization that I know and understand far, far less than I confidently thought I knew, I actually understand just a little more. Clouds are slowly being lifted.
1. I am not a type of person who flourishes in a desert terrain. Arizona is not for me and never will be. But...where DO I belong? Where in this world is my comfort zone of peace and happiness? I actually do not know yet. (But I have a solid start in figuring that out)
2. I know my "calling" or "purpose" is to teach. I am a nurturer who has the heart and intelligence to raise young minds to flourish. But...how do I actually prepare? How do I actually accomplish the outlandish and inhuman goals/tasks that are ordered? What WILL I do when I fail (In my eyes)? How will I make sure not to lose myself entirely in my job? How...do I be a successful educator?
3. On a more basic level, I know what hobbies make me smile and what clothing styles make me feel priceless. But...who's to say these won't change in five years? It will all be totally unknown to anyone for five years.
4. I know the types of relationships I want, and I know the type of relational friend, etc. that I want to be to others. But...when will what I want/need/deserve actually happen? What chances do I take and which ones do I dismiss? (not EVERY single chance can be taken) How long until I can give as much as I naturally always do, without giving too much so it becomes detrimental and unhealthy to myself? Where, oh where can I find this happy medium?
5. I know everything happens for some reason. But...when do I take action and when do I let it be?
6. Finally, I know I am special and important to others. I know I am loved and I know I am prayed for. But....when will I actually BELIEVE this? When will i FEEL special?
These are just the start to my unsettling and melancholy subconscience. At least for now, I realize one thing. Life is not doing its job if it is not hurling unknowns at you without a hint of how to endure and conquer. As much as we study, interpret, research, declare, or understand, life is always going to one-up us and push us down on our asses. As a being of emotions, needs, and decisions, how do I rise above? Or do I just settle with knowing that I will never know enough and must always be prepared for unknowns?
I have lately been mulling over the thought of if it would be better to be naiive and content/happy, or be as insightful as I am and more distressed. Again, where is this happy medium??
As the clock ticks on, I can feel my thoughts becoming even more scattered than normal. I am hoping getting my thoughts out will be much easier now that I've started this patchwork of words and ideas. --That's funny, patchwork prints are my choice patterns right now. Reflection on my current state of mind carrying over to fashion??
Until my next late night drive......
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