A 19 year-old reminded how old I am today. No, she didn't say it, but after my roommate reminded me of how young this mutual friend of ours is (and I realized that the difference between myself and her and the difference between her and a 14 year-old was the same), I freaked out a little. But really, age shouldn't bother me (or anyone). And it never has before, I think. No need. I intend to embrace life and its continual age-giving.
I mean, without the passage of time, where would we be? Sitting ducks. Except not the normal kind (vulnerable to hunters and alligators) - ducks in monotonous timelessness.
Think about it.
... I know, right?
Boring.
So, be happy with your wrinkles and frosty hair. They aren't going away. And luckily, you haven't either.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
A Small Noise from Poland
I think this is the second blog that I have created, entertained for a short while, and then left behind like one of those abandoned farmhouses by the side of the highway. Anyone could have stumbled upon it in my absence and wondered what has happened to me, who I was, where I have gone off to now, and, most importantly, why I left such a perfectly lovely little blog to crumble and fade as a result of disuse. Poor guy. I am here now. Though how long I will stay is a subject not worth conjecturing, primarily because the duration of my stay may be shorter than the conversation pertaining to it.
I am now in Poland for a brief visit and it has been almost a year since I last typed a tiny effusion into this space. I have completed one year of graduate school and have one year left. (Though sometimes I contemplate reneging on my thesis proposal and finishing at the end of this summer via an internship.) I have found a group of friends and moved to a new apartment. I have lost two grandparents to cancer. I have spent an inordinate amount of money on my car, which insists upon malfunctioning every few months. I am one year older, not much wiser, and perhaps a little more jaded.
My memory tells me how things used to be, though that, in itself, is a representation created by myself, for myself, and as a result of my past experiences and personal temperament. Therefore, it cannot be fully trusted - though it still has a semblance of truth and can serve to inspire me. This inspiration is needed to help me work backwards – to a time when I laughed more, worried less, and took more time to be of benefit to others.
God willing, I will achieve it. …Before I am 100.
Man this post sounds a little glum. But no fear! It is all in your brain. Or, I mean, you can banish the glum. Read it with a rosy tint to your prescription glasses, or put on your shades for those of you blessed with good eyesight (curse you!), and you may see a rather matter-o-fact, honest representation of my ever-changing and full-of-rich-opportunities-for-growth present. It’s good. And necessary. Etcetera.
Monday, February 23, 2009
A before bed write-up
I am giving myself two minutes to write this because I want to go to sleep. And I am not sure if it will post after I am done. Blogger is being cantankerous. Ah well.
School is going pretty well. I'm doing ok so far but it is hard to tell what that really means since we haven't had any huge assignments due yet. Every week I freak out a bit and then have a nice release feeling on Wednesday evening when I have finished most of my stuff for the week and can pretend that I shouldn't be starting on everything for the next week (or for the end-of-semester projects that loom over me like uncertain clouds.) There are a lot of those right now. Uncertain clouds that is. It works out.
And I keep on inflicting pain on myself. Not intentionally of course. But in odd ways. A wall punch here, a bra strap there, hair cutting scissors, salsa dancing.. it's good times. But it's also funny because having three older brothers I find myself taking a certain interesting sort of pride from these self-inflicted battle wounds. Like when I was little getting bruises was like getting a pat on the back from the cool girl you really want to be friends with: awesome. Bruises are still pretty cool, but scrapes and inexplicable oddnesses are the next step up - I have graduated.
That took me five.
School is going pretty well. I'm doing ok so far but it is hard to tell what that really means since we haven't had any huge assignments due yet. Every week I freak out a bit and then have a nice release feeling on Wednesday evening when I have finished most of my stuff for the week and can pretend that I shouldn't be starting on everything for the next week (or for the end-of-semester projects that loom over me like uncertain clouds.) There are a lot of those right now. Uncertain clouds that is. It works out.
And I keep on inflicting pain on myself. Not intentionally of course. But in odd ways. A wall punch here, a bra strap there, hair cutting scissors, salsa dancing.. it's good times. But it's also funny because having three older brothers I find myself taking a certain interesting sort of pride from these self-inflicted battle wounds. Like when I was little getting bruises was like getting a pat on the back from the cool girl you really want to be friends with: awesome. Bruises are still pretty cool, but scrapes and inexplicable oddnesses are the next step up - I have graduated.
That took me five.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I should be sleeping
It's been a while. My thoughts are now so scattered, crumbled, and tired of being expressed that they hardly know how to rest anymore, much less rest in a coherent set of ideas laid out nicely on this pretty blog. See, THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE. But I'm okay with it. And despite that odd beginning, I must assure this blog (for no one else may ever read this) that I am well. Quite well. Sure I freaked out a lot last week. Sure I have a ton to do. Sure I might not be as organized as I would like and I have started putting off doing the dishes (which I was so hoping not ever to do, but even now as I write I should be doing dishes before bed). Sure I may be getting a cold that I don't have time for. Sure I just got an extra 5 hours of work per week. Sure. But regardless of all this, I am content, chipper, cheerful even. And to convince you, I will make a list.
Thankfulnesses:
1) My homity homerson with it's lovely wood floors and all-my-own-ness.
2) Peanut butter.
3) The internet and all things technological.
4) Sunlight.
5) Plants. Well, plant. I only have one.
6) My extremely comfortable bed that makes it hard to move in the morning sometimes.
7) God. Which, yes, should have been first, but these are in no particular order and I can see and feel my home around me and I just ate peanut butter and I am using the internet, etc, you know.
8) People. I love them. And they are nice. And they laugh at my jokes sometimes. And on occasion they feed me.
9) Framily.
10) The ability to add extra r's to almost any word.
11) Shoes.
12) Green. (yes, the color)
13) Helen Keller.
14) Sweaters.
15) Brownies.
16) Babies.
17) Painting. Not paintingS, though I like them, too.
18) Salsa. The food, the dance, the lifestyle. (Ok, that last part isn't real.)
19) Moo. The noise.
20) All things nature.
21) Genetic modification. (Oranges without seeds, for example.)
22) Cameras. (How are they possible?!?)
23) Ha, that's how old I am.
The end.
Thankfulnesses:
1) My homity homerson with it's lovely wood floors and all-my-own-ness.
2) Peanut butter.
3) The internet and all things technological.
4) Sunlight.
5) Plants. Well, plant. I only have one.
6) My extremely comfortable bed that makes it hard to move in the morning sometimes.
7) God. Which, yes, should have been first, but these are in no particular order and I can see and feel my home around me and I just ate peanut butter and I am using the internet, etc, you know.
8) People. I love them. And they are nice. And they laugh at my jokes sometimes. And on occasion they feed me.
9) Framily.
10) The ability to add extra r's to almost any word.
11) Shoes.
12) Green. (yes, the color)
13) Helen Keller.
14) Sweaters.
15) Brownies.
16) Babies.
17) Painting. Not paintingS, though I like them, too.
18) Salsa. The food, the dance, the lifestyle. (Ok, that last part isn't real.)
19) Moo. The noise.
20) All things nature.
21) Genetic modification. (Oranges without seeds, for example.)
22) Cameras. (How are they possible?!?)
23) Ha, that's how old I am.
The end.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Words
This was probably the best time for me to move. Not necessarily in my interpersonal life, but in my intrapersonal self. I feel, for the most part, prepared and competent. I feel, for the most part, content and happy. I feel, for the most part, as though I can handle this.
I also know that these feelings of general contentment could give way in a matter of weeks or days to a sense of malaise or even freakoutdom. Now, "freakoutdom" is not a word, I admit, but "malaise" is. It is my word of the week in fact. I decided, as I was planning my new start here in Columbia, that it would be beneficial for me to incorporate certain things into my daily and weekly routine. These things include, but are not limited to, praying more, cooking healthy food once a week or so that will last me the rest of the week, making sure my apartment is tidy when I leave it and when I go to bed, reviewing a rotating set of Spanish language flash cards in the morning and the evening to increase my vocabulary, and a few more. Having covered a goal of daily improvement in my foreign language choice, it seemed only reasonable that I attempt to increase my English vocabulary as well in order to increase my ability to express myself intelligibly. I therefore decided to buy a small whiteboard to stick on my fridge on which I will write one word each week and it's definition. I am considering expanding it to include some synonyms and antonyms, but there isn't a lot of space on the tiny board, so we will see.
And so we have (not chosen for any particular reason pertaining to meaning): Malaise - a feeling of general discomfort - mental, moral, physical, etc.
I also know that these feelings of general contentment could give way in a matter of weeks or days to a sense of malaise or even freakoutdom. Now, "freakoutdom" is not a word, I admit, but "malaise" is. It is my word of the week in fact. I decided, as I was planning my new start here in Columbia, that it would be beneficial for me to incorporate certain things into my daily and weekly routine. These things include, but are not limited to, praying more, cooking healthy food once a week or so that will last me the rest of the week, making sure my apartment is tidy when I leave it and when I go to bed, reviewing a rotating set of Spanish language flash cards in the morning and the evening to increase my vocabulary, and a few more. Having covered a goal of daily improvement in my foreign language choice, it seemed only reasonable that I attempt to increase my English vocabulary as well in order to increase my ability to express myself intelligibly. I therefore decided to buy a small whiteboard to stick on my fridge on which I will write one word each week and it's definition. I am considering expanding it to include some synonyms and antonyms, but there isn't a lot of space on the tiny board, so we will see.
And so we have (not chosen for any particular reason pertaining to meaning): Malaise - a feeling of general discomfort - mental, moral, physical, etc.
Friday, January 16, 2009
A comment on the cold
I have more to say.
Yesterday was cold. I know that now that I live in Missouri I really have no right to complain since Iowa is a good 10 degrees colder on average, which in this frigid weather could be the difference between below zero temperatures and temperatures that can be considered slightly more reasonable. Anyway, now that I have appeased my sense of obligation to those who live further North (none of whom may read this anyway, so it is merely for my own contentment that I mention the above situation), I will now continue to my cold experience. It is not very exciting, but I do find it rather humorous and it is short enough that I can finish it before my fingers freeze in an uncomfortable bent position.
This is it, remember I already warned that it is uninteresting: Yesterday, after I got home from a noon devotional meeting, I couldn't get warm. I decided it was silly and so donned: flannel pajama pants, sweatpants, socks, hand knit slippers, other slippers, tank top, sweater, zipper hoodie, huge sweater, hat, and over everything, a shawl. This was all while I was in my apartment. I later covered myself with yet another blanket and was almost warm. The only thing that really worked was a hot shower. Eating food helped too. I swear my body is trying to add on extra layers just as much as my mind has been directing the external layering of large amounts of clothing. My body however has other methods: the building up of body fat. It's a really wonderful thing if you think of it. Our bodies are designed to help us survive and mine doesn't want me to die of hypothermia or any other cold-related terminal malady (which actually I'm not sure exist, it's just called freezing to death). Oh body, how I love you. You and your survival skill I-must-eat-everything mind tricks. I just wish you weren't too cold to realize that exercise would warm you up just as effectively, if not more effectively. But no, you are too cold to think straight.
Yesterday was cold. I know that now that I live in Missouri I really have no right to complain since Iowa is a good 10 degrees colder on average, which in this frigid weather could be the difference between below zero temperatures and temperatures that can be considered slightly more reasonable. Anyway, now that I have appeased my sense of obligation to those who live further North (none of whom may read this anyway, so it is merely for my own contentment that I mention the above situation), I will now continue to my cold experience. It is not very exciting, but I do find it rather humorous and it is short enough that I can finish it before my fingers freeze in an uncomfortable bent position.
This is it, remember I already warned that it is uninteresting: Yesterday, after I got home from a noon devotional meeting, I couldn't get warm. I decided it was silly and so donned: flannel pajama pants, sweatpants, socks, hand knit slippers, other slippers, tank top, sweater, zipper hoodie, huge sweater, hat, and over everything, a shawl. This was all while I was in my apartment. I later covered myself with yet another blanket and was almost warm. The only thing that really worked was a hot shower. Eating food helped too. I swear my body is trying to add on extra layers just as much as my mind has been directing the external layering of large amounts of clothing. My body however has other methods: the building up of body fat. It's a really wonderful thing if you think of it. Our bodies are designed to help us survive and mine doesn't want me to die of hypothermia or any other cold-related terminal malady (which actually I'm not sure exist, it's just called freezing to death). Oh body, how I love you. You and your survival skill I-must-eat-everything mind tricks. I just wish you weren't too cold to realize that exercise would warm you up just as effectively, if not more effectively. But no, you are too cold to think straight.
This is Kara's fault, but she doesn't know it
I used to have a blog when I was in Bermuda. It was a way for me to stay connected with family and friends back in the States and share my thoughts with whoever cared to read them. Now I will say that I do not really expect people to read this blog much this time around. I am not in some warm, new place that none of my relations or closest friends have ever been to. No, I am in the Midwest, where right now we are experiencing the coldest of coldnesses and where people rarely vacation.
I decided to do this quite spur of the moment because of Kara. She did it. She started her own blog. I cave to real and imagined peer pressure (absolutely imagined and actually completely non-existent in this instance). So this time it is actually much more for me than for anyone else, hence the name of this blog. You know how you have a coat rack to hang your coat and a foot rest to prop your feet on when they are tired? Well, I want someplace to rest my thoughts. Like a pillow cradles your head while you sleep. I was going to journal, but I find my fingers too cold and impatient for that at the moment.
And so I type...
I decided to do this quite spur of the moment because of Kara. She did it. She started her own blog. I cave to real and imagined peer pressure (absolutely imagined and actually completely non-existent in this instance). So this time it is actually much more for me than for anyone else, hence the name of this blog. You know how you have a coat rack to hang your coat and a foot rest to prop your feet on when they are tired? Well, I want someplace to rest my thoughts. Like a pillow cradles your head while you sleep. I was going to journal, but I find my fingers too cold and impatient for that at the moment.
And so I type...
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