The Venetian's Wife

New blog!

2011-06-24T23:13:00.002-04:00

Hello, everyone. I've been absent lately. That's because I've been busy over here. That's right, I've got a new blog. It's all about life, job hunting, building a "career" and what that means for Gen Y's like myself (i.e. those of who've grown up with the internet and are also trying to enter the workforce in a really terrible, awful recession).

Does this mean I'll retire this blog? I'm not sure. Probably not. It might have to go on hiatus, though, while I put time and energy elsewhere. So, dear readers (however few) be patient, and read my new blog in the meantime!

The smell of roast chicken

2011-05-27T19:36:00.003-04:00

Last week was difficult. Last week featured a fifteen minute crying jag, as I sat in the Food Lion parking lot. I was on the phone with my father wailing about how I would never, ever learn how to drive my car (a stick shift) and that my bank account was dwindling rapidly.

This week has been better. My mother was right when she told me things would get better. I've got a few job interviews lined up. The car, while still terrifying, is not as challenging as before. My living room is suffused with a lovely, golden glow because the sun is shining right through the rain. The air is cool and the house smells of roasting chicken and potatoes. My fiance just pulled in. I even discovered that I can temporarily remove the obnoxious, highly sensitive smoke alarm to my bedroom so that it doesn't go off every time I try to cook something.

Life is good.

Free time?

2011-05-17T15:45:00.002-04:00

And so, graduation came and went. I am now settled into a new apartment (only for the summer alas - I've got to find something quick as my sublease ends in August). Having free time feels wrong ... almost sinful, after a senior year full of intense coursework and being an editor for the newspaper. Hopefully I'll find a job soon, because I'm nearing broke. I also intend to start researching grad school options. I suppose I also need to start planning my wedding at some point (gosh, that sounds weird).

Although my sudden influx of free time feels disorienting, it also allows me to pursue things that I never had time for before. Right now, this means taking an online course through Writers.com called "Intro to New Media." It starts on the 19th, and I'm very excited (thanks Guilford for the grant money to pay for it). This blog is getting dated and inadequate for my (hopefully more professional) needs, so I'm looking forward to investing some time in learning more about writing for new media by building up an online portfolio/blog. I'm also thinking that getting published would be helpful, since I'll need new things to post in my portfolio. College did not teach me how to freelance, however. Any tips on getting started would be welcome.

Sometimes when I write down aspirations such as "get published" or "get proficient in new media and networking" or "get into an awesome grad program on writing for digital media" I wonder if I've got the right goals. On the one hand, I wonder if I'm aiming too high. On the other hand, I wonder if others would think I'm aiming too low and setting myself up for financial uncertainty and little success. But then I think to myself, well who cares? Things are changing pretty quickly and pretty radically these days: culturally, socially, and even personally (especially if you're in your 20's like I am). In the face of that, why not just pursue what you care about most? Adjustments can always be made, but compromising or giving up on something too early never got anyone anywhere.

And then, when I am very anxious, I read Sugar. She reminds me that "the future has an ancient heart."

Graduation

2011-05-06T22:25:00.003-04:00

Well. This is my last night in my college room. My little shoebox in the on-campus apartments at Guilford College. The walls are bare. Almost everything is boxed up. I feel like I'm trying to cut myself off from my emotions, lest the floodgates open. I feel a deep sense of happiness, accomplishment (I'm graduating with high academic honors) and a real sense of relief. I'm ready to move on. And yet, I'm dogged by a feeling of sadness and nostalgia. I remember moving into my dorm for the first time. I was so nervous and excited. I really had no idea what was coming. I didn't know who I would meet, what I would learn, or whether or not I'd still be with my boyfriend come graduation. I didn't know I'd go to England, Italy, France and Germany. I didn't know I'd become an editor for the newspaper.
I cannot even begin to describe all the lessons (both academic and otherwise) that will be represented by that little piece of paper I'll be handed tomorrow. Guilford has been home to me. Guilford has shaped me. I think it's made me ready to make a new home, find a new calling. I may feel very green and unprepared for the "real world" still. On the other hand, I followed my gut when I chose to come here and I haven't been disappointed. Guilford has allowed me to honor my sense of passion and commitment ... a commitment to writing, creativity, excellence, hard work and meaningful relationships with others. For all its flaws (and issues that plague all institutions), I think I can safely say that Guilford has lived up to all it promised and more.
As for everyone who has supported me, I just can't thank you enough. Mom and Dad: thanks for everything, but most of all thank you for always, always telling me that I could be a writer and an English major if I wanted to. My favorite faculty (you know who you are): thank you for everything you taught me. David: thanks for just being you. My dear, dear friends: college would not have been the same without you.
I can only hope that whatever it is that led me here will continue to lead me on to equally wonderful things.
And that is that, ladies and gentlemen. I'm done with college.

Engaged

2011-05-03T23:24:00.002-04:00

Well. It's been an eventful few weeks. Finals are nearly over, graduation is impending (four days, now?) and my boyfriend of three years proposed last weekend. I said yes, naturally. He went to elaborate lengths to in order to propose (a trip to a winery, a picnic lunch, and a wine bottle floating down the creek were all involved). In the end, he ended up wading out up to his thighs in said creek to fish out the wine bottle (I was perplexed and wondering how we would drive home with his blue jeans soaking wet) just to give me the note that was inside the bottle. I finally caught up with what was happening, started weeping, and he pulled out a ring.
And that was that. It feels remarkably normal ... like the day you turn 13 and realize that you don't feel any different than you did yesterday. I take this as a good sign, finding this transition not be a real transition at all (rather, that the transition came already, and the engagement has come in recognition of it). All the same, it was a magical day. I feel so grateful to have a partner who treats me so well.
In other news, I remain jobless, but hopeful. I have a place to live for the summer. I've got grant money to do fun/instructive things with new media. I'm graduating from college with honors. I am going to see my family and celebrate soon. Packing is the only bane of my existence.

This too shall pass

2011-04-16T22:20:00.005-04:00

A few weeks ago, one of my professors told me a story and I've been thinking about it ever since. He said there was an old fable in which a man was sentenced to die. The king set the condemned man what seemed to be an impossible task; the king said that if the condemned man could give him something that would make him happy when he was sad, and sad when he was happy, then he could go free. The man gave the king a ring engraved with the words "this too shall pass." The king realized that the man had met his challenge and set him free.

This too shall pass. Those words suddenly seem to be a full, meaningful description of the way things are, rather than something I tell myself to feel better when things are rough. It does make me happy and sad, sometimes at the same time.

Tonight was a lovely, shining moment that made me so happy and melancholy at the same time, only because I knew that nothing else would ever be quite like it. Those lovely, shining moments are rare, especially when most weeks feel like a long, emotional slog. Such has been my time with the student newspaper: long hours, blood, sweat and tears, mixed so much joy, and passion, and fulfillment. Tonight I had a chance to sit and reflect with my fellow graduating editors (along with our beloved advisor, of course) and it was priceless. We shared memories and the strengths we recognized in each other after so much time working together. One editor remarked that he had moments of panic when he thought that perhaps working The Guilfordian was as good as things are going to get, because how could we ever find another group of such talented, passionate and hardworking individuals? When would we ever find another group of people willing to sacrifice so much for no pay and little formal recognition?

I don't know the answer to that, but we did share a sense of excitement and faith for the future of the student newspaper in the hands of its new editors. And after leaving, I can't help but feel and sense of faith and excitement for myself and all my fellow editors who are graduating along with me. I have no doubt that the strength and passion we've brought to this newspaper will carry us forward to wonderful things, even if it's not what we imagine now. Looking back on it, my work for The Guilfordian (and by extension, my work at college) and the relationships I've built have been genuinely transformational and I am grateful. I am grateful to have known these people, grateful that I will go on knowing them. I am grateful for everything they have taught me, and everything we have shared.

It's appropriate that the same professor who told me that story is also the advisor for the newspaper.

This too shall pass. But something will always be waiting ahead as well.

Choice

2011-03-25T10:23:00.004-04:00

I am a terrible blogger lately. This is partly because I am starting to see a shift coming. I'm working on a project for a TA/independent study position that will hopefully become a professional showcase and website that will host a new blog, my twitter feed, and hopefully examples of my work. It's sucking up energy that I'd normally feed over here. As it is, this blog might be retired soon as I make my switch.

What a precious archive, though. So far, I've blogged partly for others, mostly for myself. I chose a blog so that I could share. Now, as my understanding of digital literacy and new media communications/rhetoric is expanding, I feel that I need to change the nature of my output to reflect my growing sense that I am (or can be) a part of professional and academic discourse "out there" in the world. I think this blog was a stepping stone, though, an place for learning and reflection and I hope to carry that over as well.

It's been interesting to note the cyclical nature of my worries, my joys. Is this what it means to be a student, or is this what it means to be a human? Or both? Even though, come May, I won't be a "student" for a while, I know that the line between "school" and "life" is false and that I'll never stop learning. Although, getting that grant money I applied for would help a lot too.

It's taken me until now to realize that, in the face of my anxiety and worry over where I'll be and what I'll be doing in the coming months, I'm the only one who can give myself permission not to be worried or anxious. I have six weeks of college left. Six weeks. I want to be present for those last weeks, not stuck in anxiety over a future that will probably work itself out anyway. I don't think it's wrong to count on having a little serendipity mixed in with all the hard work and preparation for the future.

Change

2011-03-02T00:07:00.003-05:00

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away.

What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.

Pour yourself like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.

Every happiness is the child of separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,
dares you to become the wind.

March 1 selection from "A Year with Rilke" (Sonnets to Orpheus II, 12)

I love Rilke. Reading a snippet or poem of his every day has been an interesting exercise. I had a period last week when I forgot to read almost five days in a row. I was sick and busy, but I felt upset and slightly ashamed when I realized it. I've made a renewed effort over the past few days to make sure I read them on time. It's sometimes dull, because I'll go days without anything really speaking to me. Then, all of a sudden, I will read a poem and think, "I really, really needed to read that today."

That's what happened today. That's why I push myself to keep reading, day after day when it seems easier not to commit to something extra. I love it when Rilke describes change as a flame, that there is something burning and effervescent about change, even when it seems to be mere drudgery or supreme discomfort. "Every happiness is the child of separation/it did not think it could survive."
How often I need to be reminded of that.

Words and more words

2011-02-24T23:53:00.003-05:00

A "word cloud" drawn from the four or so years of my blog (created via Wordle). Curious and revealing, isn't it?

The Useless Days

2011-02-15T11:25:00.003-05:00

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.

-Sugar

From "Dear Sugar, The Rumpus Advice Column #64: Tiny Beautiful Things."

Awareness

2011-02-10T23:25:00.009-05:00

Awareness. I always considered it to be a cognitive skill, a kind of mental discipline that was often beyond me. It some ways, it felt easier to be harried, stressed, and under pressure even though those feelings are so negative. This semester I've been feeling an intense amount of pressure in my academic and personal life ... as if this semester were some kind of medieval torture device, and someone was maliciously tightening the screws day by day. I feel worst when I feel out of control. This has been a pattern that's gone on long enough, though. Many conversations, readings and experience are beginning to shift my perception of my own stress. First of all, feeling "out of control" assumes that there actually exists some level of control that I could gain over my life and what happens next. Really, I'll never know or control that. Now, that's a tough one and I still don't quite believe it on a gut level but I hope to get there eventually.

Recently, I've begun to think that there are important decisions that can impact my day-to-day perceptions. What started me off was a comment from a respected professor, who pointed out that I will always be busy, and that there will always be multiple demands on my time. It made me think that I need to take make decisions right now that will make me feel more sane, rather than assuming my life will become less hectic at some point in the future ... since then, I've stumbled across this interview with Jon Kabat-Zinn. It's changed my ideas about awareness and mindfulness. Zinn, a scientist and zen student who has studied mediation and its clinical and practical applications, speaks to the essential difference between awareness and "thinking." Thinking, he says, is a source of great creativity but it can also be destructive. Awareness or mindfulness is entirely different. It is not a cognitive exercise so much as a willingness to let of thinking and to settle into your body and the present moment instead. The ability to truly focus our attention on the present is a skill humans are not taught to cultivate. Zinn argues that cultivating great awareness does not only reduce feelings of stress and illness, it allows us to live life as if every moment really does matter.

What a radical concept. I spend so much time, these past few weeks especially, worrying and yearning for the future. I'm starting to wonder if I have more control over my sense of dissatisfaction than I thought. This concept of awareness runs much deeper than that, though. I think there is more at stake. I wonder if a greater sense of awareness might also lead to a greater sense of compassion and flexibility. Awareness in communication seems crucial to me, that ability to be present with another person, acting as if each moment is worth paying attention to. What would happen if I tried to do that more?

Yoga gives me a greater sense of mindfulness, of simply being in my body. It's difficult to maintain in an academic environment where thinking is valued so highly. But it seems to me that a balance between the two would allow for greater creativity of thought and a deeper sense of engagement.

So, this is a really tall order. This is tough work. Just trying to be more mindful at least part of the time helps though, rather than thinking "if I could just graduate" or "if I could just go back to Europe." It's better than just giving up and letting myself slip back into that sense of pressure and self-preoccupation. That's no way to live.

Postscript: strangely enough (or not strangely at all) Zinn also has some potential Quaker influences. I love finding these connections.

The Solitude We Are

2011-01-28T10:26:00.003-05:00

"To speak again of solitude, it becomes ever clearer that in truth there is nothing we can choose or avoid. We are solitary. We can delude ourselves and act as if this were not so. That is all we can do. How much better to realize it from the start that is what we are, and to proceed from there. It can, of course, make us dizzy, for everything our eyes rest upon will be taken from us, no longer is anything near, and what is far is endlessly far."
- Rilke (Jan 27 selection from "A Year with Rilke")

I miss Italy. I was there for ten days last spring after deciding that I would fly from London to Pisa all by myself, so that I could get on a bus to Siena to visit a young woman who is probably my oldest friend. It was, at times, very unsettling and nerve wracking to travel to a country on your own without speaking a lick of Italian. But I miss the long hours when I would wander around the city alone, poking down side streets, stumbling upon gardens, wandering into churches ... my friend was preoccupied with classes most afternoons, so I would go for hours without speaking to anyone (aside from feeble attempts to buy gelato in Italian). I've never gone that long in silence. I would sit in the Piazza del Campo when I was tired and I would sketch and people watch. I don't think I've ever written so profusely in my life. When I was alone I turned to my journal. My solitude felt intense and overwhelming and deeply uncomfortable, but perhaps that was the value of it. I wrote pages upon pages every day, in the afternoon in the piazza and at night before I went to bed. The came Florence; I spent an entire afternoon alone in the Uffizi gallery and a full half hour in the Botticelli room. I climbed to the top of Brunelleschi's dome. I practically meditated over the glory of my meals. The funny thing is that I both hated and loved the days spent alone ... in some moments I wanted any way out, anyone to talk to, just so that I wouldn't have to feel so alone. Other moments, I savored the feeling.

I don't quite recall the point of all this, except to remind myself that it happened, to let out that longing for anywhere-but-here and a longing to be in a place where I was always present. Perhaps I feel this way because this week I've not had a minute to myself. I always wonder if, by searching for something beyond the daily grind, I am romanticizing silence, solitude, God, whatever. Maybe I'm inventing what I'm searching for.

On the other hand, does it matter? Is it okay to just buy into something if it makes you feel more sane, and more compassionate?

Impatience

2011-01-08T10:17:00.002-05:00

Ah. Once again, the first week of January is marked by impatience. Impatience to be away, to be back at school, to be done with the break. However, I've also enjoyed my time at home quite a bit during this break - much more so than last winter. I am learning to settle into what I'm doing a bit better. Of course, a year ago I was impatient to leave for England. Now, I think wistfully back to those magical months abroad. I think, though, that my deep impatience this year is for the rest of my life to start. That sounds dramatic ... more so than I intended. I merely mean that I am impatient for a change of pace. I'm researching grad schools still, but a year off to work is what I want right now. I want to give all these transitions the time they need. I am ready for new challenges, despite their sometimes harsh reality. I can't stay an undergrad forever and I don't want to. I also don't want to go right to grad school because it would feel as if I decided to go just because I was scared and wanted to prolong the structure that's defined my life for so many years. I want to go to grad school because I really, really want it. And after a year or so of work, I don't doubt that I'll be more than ready to dive back into school (I'll always love it, really). I guess what I'm looking for is a sense of balance and a sense that everything will happen on its own time. In which case, I suppose I should train myself for more patience ...
And so, I'm enjoying my last day at home. I get to be the overprotective older sister for the day, hopefully with some measure of coolness mixed in. Then, I'm off to start my last semester at Guilford! Whew.

I Begin

2011-01-01T19:42:00.006-05:00

Generally I write a post just before the new year. This year, I've chosen (well, waited) to post after the beginning of the new year. This is partially because I was busy tying up some loose ends, (although in reality nothing is ever that final) by having some tough but fruitful discussions that needed to take place. However, it all works out because this year I'd like to focus on beginnings, however arbitrary they may be, rather than endings. Honestly, there's not much that just ends with the turning of the year anyway. Yes, 2010 was a full year with many challenges and unexpected joys (five months abroad remains a highlight) but isn't every year full of both? Our cares and pleasures stay with us no matter what the date.

I have decided that I am very much opposed to making lists. At least for myself, anyway. I am an obsessive list maker when it comes to my daily tasks, it is true. New year's lists are seductive in their promise of a shiny new routine, a new improved you ... in my experience the over ambitious list always leads to failure because we aim to remake ourselves when we shouldn't feel the need to. At any rate, I've admitted to myself that I cannot follow through on ambitious lists of new year's resolutions and I've decided to save myself the disappointment. This is similar to my realization that I simply need to take a yoga class (one in which I am expected to show up in front of others) in order to set up a regular exercise regime. So, regular yoga is not on a list because I have already built it into my schedule for next semester.

In a similar vein, my approach to lists of books to be read also informs my feelings on new year's lists as well. I generally reject reading lists in favor of the spontaneous find, and whatever whim may take me when doing leisure reading. This winter break I had expected to read "T.S. Spivet." However, I've found myself engrossed in needlework and reading "How to Eat' by Nigella Lawson. It may seem odd to sit a read through a cookbook as if it were an engrossing novel, but Nigella is unique. Her cookbook is largely narrative based, the story of her cooking process and her intense, sensual love of eating and therefore cooking. It's inspirational because I can't stop thinking about how I will shop and cook differently this semester - for example, it's high time that I roasted a chicken on my own. I like to give myself the freedom to indulge in unexpected reading finds, and I feel the same way about the new year. I like to leave lots of room for the unexpected.

A little structure is always a good thing, though. A few simple things to keep you centered never hurts. This is why my one commitment of the new year is to read "A Year with Rilke" translated and edited by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows. I've given in wholeheartedly to Rilke and I hope that he will inspire more blogging this coming year. But mostly these daily readings will me for me and for me alone as I navigate 2011. What with graduation and the many decisions that come with that turning point, I'm sure I'll need it.

However, this is only one thing and therefore does not count as a list in my eyes. And thus, I welcome the new year. I'll let Rilke have the last (or first) word:

"I love all beginnings, despite their anxiousness and their uncertainty, which belong to every commencement. If I have earned a pleasure or a reward, or if I wish that something had not happened; if I doubt the worth of an experience and remain in my past – then I choose to begin at this very second. Begin what? I begin. I have already thus begun a thousand lives."

-- Rilke (early journals), entry one from "A Year with Rilke."

Christmas Cares

2010-12-24T12:23:00.004-05:00

I like the winter time. It is nice to see nature settling down into itself, to see the still crispness of it. It's a little calming during the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. I spent some time re-reading my posts from this time last year ... I was preparing for London, chafing at being home, worrying about making my relationship a long distance one. The cares and toils of this December are different, certainly, but they are there. I've stopped expecting Christmas to be carefree. We make what we can of it. I am grateful that my family makes the deliberate choice to stay home every year, to relax rather than building up pressures and expectations for how things should be. I am looking forward to some quiet time at home (so different from last year).

Some things are the same, although the stakes feel higher. Last year I wrote about the opportunity unfolding in front of me - how anxiety and excitement are so intertwined. I feel that ever the more this year, with graduation quickly approaching. I still worry about my relationship sometimes ... after almost three years things get increasingly complicated. Passing the holiday apart in separate states doesn't help and it's making my Christmas feel quite blue compared to last year.

I think, I hope, that this year I have more clarity at least. A vision of what I want out the next few years, out of my life, is beginning to form tentatively in my mind. I've just finished up the most intellectually and emotionally challenging semester yet and I made it. Not only am I still standing, I owned it. I am starting to feel a real sense of ownership over my abilities and my passions. I am more willing to stand up and defend my decisions, to defend my needs, to defend my views. That's got to count for something, right?

And so, the stakes do not feel so overwhelmingly high because I know that one way or another I will do all right. I have a lot of time ahead of me. At least this winter break is giving me time to settle and reflect, and I am grateful for that and for my family (and friends) near and far. I am also grateful for the time to do needlework and to finally read "The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet."

Merry Christmas.

2010-12-11T12:06:00.003-05:00

Some of the most overwhelming and astonishing experiences come after weeks of frustration and pain. At least, that's what happened during my English capstone presentation. The culminating presentation of my English major, of my undergrad degree, and it just took on a momentum of its own. I was so nervous before it started, but once we got underway I knew we were in the zone. It was big, it was important, and it was meaningful. I got chills during the conclusion.

Whew. Anyway, now that it's all over I feel that I should be done. But I have two final exams and a paper to write yet. Urg. So, I'm off to work on that.

Just wanted to give a last nod to my intellectual and emotional euphoria.

We move in infinite space*

2010-11-24T00:26:00.003-05:00

"It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our blood. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens."

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Why this man speaks to me I'll never know, but in every moment of deepest fatigue and despair he strikes right at the heart of the matter with a passage or a poem. I am thankful for this man who lived and died years before I was even born, even before my parents were born. Sometimes I felt that I quoted him too much, but this blog is a testament to his enduring influence, ever since I first received a copy of "Letters to a Young Poet" when I was 16.

Tonight he reminds me of the need for patience, even when patience is wearing thin. I feel so done in, so exhausted, so helpless to prevent conflict that I just want to check out sometimes. Rilke reminds me that you simply cannot snap your fingers and expect change. Change is difficult and painful, but we must, must hold to what is difficult. I am learning to be attentive, learning to sit with sadness, during those times in which we "stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing." Sometimes I wish that I could go back, revert to a time of not knowing what I know, not feeling what I've felt. I know that this is impossible because perhaps a new future is being transformed within me, waiting to move out of me someday.

*"The future stands still, dear Mr. Kappus, but we move in infinite space. How could it not be difficult for us?" RMR

Taken for Granted

2010-11-17T00:20:00.003-05:00

In my last post I wrote about anxiety coming in waves ... whoo boy, that hasn't changed. It feels even more extreme this week. I go from feeling calm and okay to completely freaked out. I have no time, or not enough time. This week has already been trying already. I still have an eight page paper, a presentation, and a photo shoot to complete over the weekend. Oh, and editing and the GRE on Saturday. It's also a significant weekend for a friend, and I can't just check out on that either. And then there is the significant other who needs time too.

I can't sleep at night. I want to be done with all this, done with the pain and anxiety. I want to feel reassured and confident. I also want to become a hermit, to ignore everything for just as long as it takes to get these assignments done. But the idea of isolating myself entirely is upsetting in its own way too. I told myself this semester would be different. One good thing I can say is that I've become much, much better at still functioning even when I'm freaked out and unsettled and anxious (about school, about relationships, or anything else).

I can't help but feel that every aspect of my life that I've taken for granted over the past few years is getting shaken up and moved around, and I keep banging my knees into the furniture because it's not where it was, and I still don't know where everything is going to land in the end. I mean, I think I know what I want. I think I can get there. But the in-between is so very difficult.

Perhaps this is just what happens during transition times like these. Things change. Things surface. Things become uncertain. There is at least a little grain of excitement there.

Letting Go

2010-11-10T23:03:00.001-05:00

I've been reading the poem by Rilke that I posted recently almost everyday. I need the reminder, because the anxiety comes in waves. Right now I'm most concerned about my project for my senior seminar. It's crazy and unorthodox and unsettling. There are no rules, and yet there are. I don't know. My prof keeps telling us to have fun, to play, take risks ... let go, she says. Yet there are standards, rules to play by. It's anxiety inducing because there is no way to hold both things in your head at once, yet we are being asked to do just that.
If you're confused, then so am I.
I'm so burned out. I've had a headache for the past three days and I keep feeling shooting pains in my chest whenever I think about that project or even just getting through the next five weeks. These are familiar sensations, but generally I don't feel quite this burned out until after Thanksgiving. It's concerning me because I also don't when I'll get the chance to recuperate.
On the upside, I just got a free ticket to see Bill Clinton speak. Yes, the ex-president himself is coming to my college. I also had an uplifting meeting with my adviser today - I have a very good feeling about spring classes. At the beginning of the year, I figured I'd be sad at the thought of my last undergrad registration process. Now, I'm just ready for what's next (whatever that may be). I'm getting tired of the undergrad lifestyle. Which is another upside. I'm realizing that I shouldn't let fear drive my decision making process about what to do or where to go next. That's automatically limiting yourself from the get-go, isn't it?

2010-10-25T15:13:00.002-04:00

Desire change. Be enthusiastic for that flame
in which a thing escapes your grasp
while it makes a glorious display of transformation.
That designing Spirit, the master mind of all things on earth
loves nothing so much in the sweeping movement of the dance
as the turning point.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Br. David Steindl-Rast

Out of the tide pool and into the ocean

2010-10-24T22:46:00.005-04:00

Well, now. I feel naive. I feel naive, but I also feel that I simply could not have anticipated the events of the past few weeks. I feel blindsided, but I also feel these things were inevitable (at least, in retrospect). I am at a loss to explain. My last post is still meaningful but it doesn't quite cover things ... I thought the storm was well over at that point and it sure as hell wasn't. The analogy doesn't fit anymore, because I'm still dealing with the issues that came up recently.

I'm being cryptic. I apologize, but it's the only was I can be appropriate while still trying to process. Some things are meant to stay between you and your therapist, let's face it. But I feel different and I want to note that. I feel different when I wake up in the morning and when I go to bed at night.

I've been able to move forward, to name problems, to see the positive and healthy way of dealing with everything that has happened. What surprises me the most is that I thought I was an adult before, but really I was just taking laps around the kiddy pool. Now, I've taken the first deep, icy plunge into the real adult world; a world of frightening ambiguity, of pain, of learning how to cope. You know what? It makes my concern over a B- on a paper seem childish and irrelevant. My anxiety over my GPA pales in comparison to all this. I still care about doing a good job for the sake of it; I'm still passionate about what I do (it keeps me centered, you see). But the intense anxiety and self-doubt that I suffered from worrying about grades and what my professors thought about me seems so unimportant and pointless. If I can get through this, through feeling like I've been turned upside down, then surely I can deal with a poor grade here or there. I have better things to cry about than that.

I'm only one person. I can only do so much. I've been pushed harder than ever before to evaluate what I want and what I value. I'm still working those things out, but it does give one perspective (no matter how painful).

p.s. I'm okay, folks. I promise. Just work'in through stuff ... guess that happens during senior year, eh?

Accordion Music

2010-10-21T01:40:00.003-04:00

I am sitting here and it is past my usual bedtime. I am up because it is fall break and I have nothing ahead of me tomorrow but what I choose to set in front of myself. I am on-campus for the week and almost everyone else is gone. Today I struggled with that — the solitude I've been craving, the solitude I normally accept with a quiet kind of relief. I had anticipated days of knitting and relaxing, with time to think about the future, time to stretch out away from my weekly obligations and spin up a few dreams and distractions. But over the past few days I've been mired in anxiety and fear; struggling with something that, after building for weeks, finally burst out ... It still takes me by surprise, the unintentional harm that we can pass onto each other with good intentions. Parents to children, friends to friends, siblings to siblings, lovers to each other. Sometimes it makes you feel like something you counted on is suddenly tipping over, the boat is capsizing. It's unsettling and it hurts, especially when someone else is hurting too and you don't know what to do about it.
Then, of course, the storm (whichever one it happened to be) passes. Maybe you got fooled by the eye of the storm, and so the next wave hit you by surprise and made you wonder if it'll ever go away. But it does go away, even if you're left looking at a little, tiny bit of wreckage; a wee bit of re-ordering and re-evaluating to do.
Tonight, I had to force myself to get ready for bed, even though I felt wide awake. I kept wondering, why? How? How could this happen? I took a hot shower to calm down, told myself that everything is going to be okay, that nothing really important was lost. Some things just got shaken up a bit. Then, as I was about to get in bed, I heard music drifting in through my open window. No stereo, no tinned-up, pre-recorded stuff. It wasn't the dull booming music of a house party. Someone in the house across the way was playing the accordion in the darkness of their side porch. I couldn't see them, but I could hear the song clear across the night air, and it was the most beautiful, wistful thing because they kept fumbling at a certain part, stopping, starting again. As I listened, I knew it was a tune I knew but couldn't remember. I was transfixed. Maybe I only feel this way because it's late and because I'm tired and still a little upset, but at that moment the beautiful, lilting, stumbling accordion felt like it was life. Life in its stumbling awkward, breathtaking, intimate, grand, confusing, upsetting, frustrating, ecstatic, ho-hum kind of beauty.
Maybe faith means knowing that messing up doesn't ruin the song.

Resistance

2010-10-12T13:59:00.003-04:00

As much as I love to learn, I also hate the process sometimes ... I like learning new things, but learning new processes, new ways to think about things, new approaches is tricky and we (I) don't always see that as learning.

Let me be specific. In my senior seminar, one of the most important "learning outcomes" is, according to the prof, to learn how to conduct independent study and research. That sounds straightforward, but it's very difficult because independent study means working without prompts, without rules, without an imposed structure. Structure becomes something you define for yourself, for the needs of the project. There are guiding principles, important ones; otherwise the paper would end up un-readable. I spent the whole afternoon yesterday spinning wheels, getting hung up on how to structure my mid-term paper, where to hang all the shiny baubles of thought that I haven't even articulated yet. I feel like I wasted all that time and have nothing to show for it, and now have even less time to get the paper done. I hate not having a prompt to follow, a way of knowing if I'm getting it right.

On the other hand, I'm trying to see yesterday as a part of my learning process, a process not of acquiring new information, but one of "well, that approach didn't work ... what do I do now?" I am trying very hard to cut myself some slack and realize that perhaps learning how to approach this kind of paper is important and valuable in of itself. That learning for myself which strategies are most effective when I'm working without an imposed structure is perhaps the most important lesson I could take away from this class, no matter how frustrating or scary that is. After all, how do you grade that kind of learning?

I've decided to start again using the concept of the one-inch picture frame. Mostly I wish I wasn't so burned out. Every time I try to work I end up with a headache and a stomach ache.
Urg.

Sifting

2010-10-07T13:25:00.003-04:00

Hm. This campus is full of wise women. I finally listened to my boyfriend's advice and had an honest talk with one of my professors about my anxieties and feeling behind every week. I'd worried a lot about having that conversation, probably because I feared (incorrectly) that I would be instantly judged. I was not. Instead, we had a chat in which she told me was doing really, really well - that the challenge for me in her class is not to step it up a notch but to learn how to reign myself in a little. She repeated, once again, that you need to pick your battles.

Pick your battles. It's a phrase I've heard often, but never really embraced. I generally want to tackle everything at once. It's tough for me to reign myself in, focus on just a few things and let the rest go.

I feel like I repeat myself a lot on this topic. Especially on this blog. Sometimes, I look at myself and think, "jeez, chill out ... why can't you just move on?" Then, I think that you readers (I'm assuming there's more of you there besides my mom and my aunties) must be yawning and thinking the same thing.

So, for my sake more than yours, I'm going to throw out a little more Natalie Goldberg because she helps me see my obsessions and preoccupations and steps backward in a more compassionate way.

"It takes a while for our experience to sift through our consciousness. For instance, it is hard to write about being in love in the midst of a mad love affair. We have no perspective. All we can say is, “I’m madly in love,” over and over again. It is also hard to write about a city we just moved to; it’s not yet in our body. We don’t know our new home, even if we can drive to the drugstore without getting lost. We have not lived through three winters there or seen the ducks leave in fall and return to the lakes in spring. Hemingway wrote about Michigan while sitting in a cafe in Paris. 'Maybe away from Paris I could write about Paris as in Paris I could write about Michigan. I did not know it was too early for that because I did not know Paris well enough.'"

-- Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones (The Hemingway quote is from A Moveable Feast.)

p.s. Thanks to the veggie co-op, I have okra! What does one do with okra?

Only you can put out the fire!

2010-10-01T16:08:00.003-04:00

Oh my. I feel burned out, entirely undone. I am still searching for a satisfying, hard-working, take-no-prisoners, have-fun, don't-fall-behind lifestyle that doesn't leave me completely spent at the end of every week.

It's still hitting me that I might be setting the bar too high, or perhaps aiming at the wrong bar all together.

I feel discouraged every week because I can't get everything done. Every week, it seems, something happens to set me off, make me cry, and make me feel that I'm not good enough. Why is it so difficult to find what it means to live a sustainable life?

I had an enlightening conversation with a very wise woman yesterday. She told me that part of school is learning how to choose. You must choose what is important to you, what you want to get out of a class, and probably someday a job or a grad school program. Trying to do everything only makes you sick.

I know this. I've gone over this already, written about it already, talked about already. How and when does learning take place? That's what I want to know. What does it mean, really, to be a compassionate person? I will not be a doormat; that is not compassion. Will I learn to let go of some things? Will I learn to stop eviscerating myself over every little slip, every item not finished or perhaps only half-assed? Will I learn to take a stand over what's really meaningful to me and what I can reasonably accomplish every week? Will I extend that understanding to other people?

I don't want to run around feeling like my head is on fire. But I was also told yesterday that I am really the only one who can put out that fire. Really. Seriously.

Okay. Good decisions made this past week. One, deciding to get farm fresh, local, organic veggies through the veggie co-op. I now possess many hard-to-identify root vegetables and some lovely field greens. Two, deciding to pitch and run that story on sexual health in The Guilfordian. I think it's a good piece of journalism, and (more importantly) it will probably get people talking. Three, deciding to finally take the time to update this blog.

Malaise

2010-09-15T11:11:00.002-04:00

I've been under attack for the past few days - apparently from my own body. I've been struggling with an intense malaise (that's what I've chosen to call it). It is, in all likelihood, only a mild cold. I'm lucky to get away with such mild congestion. Everyone else is sicker than I am. But my body has been aching for days; if I spend too much time out of bed I feel like I'm going to die. But I'm not quite sick enough to justify skipping classes or meetings or whathaveyou.

This malaise has been making me rethink my go-go-go attitude. I am starting to think that I should chill out even when I do feel better, take more time for baking cookies, seeing friends, laying in bed, knitting, perhaps even reading something that is NOT assigned! It's such a tough balance though. Some days the thought of time off seems reasonable. Others days, it seems impossible. Plus, I do enjoy being busy, for the most part. I guess I just want to be busy for the right reasons.

My capstone class continues to confound me. My first paper is due in a week and I don't even know how to format it. I had a chat with the professor yesterday about good and bad kinds of discomfort. That class has been shaking my new-found confidence and sense of self worth - to me, that seems like bad discomfort. I told her that everyone was incredibly anxious and uptight in that class because we all thing that we have to suddenly transform ourselves into "smart people" to get through a senior seminar alive, when really we all just wanted to loosen up but didn't know how. I wasn't the only one to raise this issue, it turns out. So, yesterday during class we all went out and sat on the grass. We talked and the prof said, "Really guys, don't worry about the grades, the institution, the way you are supposed to think, and definitely don't worry about getting the right answer. This book we are reading simply won't tolerate that."

I think we're getting somewhere. In the soft afternoon light of the quad, I seemed to see my classmates in a new way. Everyone looked more relaxed, more vulnerable, more like how I felt and I realized that we are NOT competing in this class, we are all in the big scary, messy boat together (even that guy who reads Derrida for kicks and giggles, and I'm liking that guy more and more). I realized that we are being called to be uncomfortable together, which I suppose makes me feel a little better about all this unsettling postmodern business.

Writing that damn paper is still nerve wracking, but oh well.

PoMo

2010-09-08T21:57:00.004-04:00

"And so, for me, the only fiction that still means something today is the kind of fiction that tries to explore the possibilities of fiction beyond its own limitations; the kind of fiction that challenges the tradition that governs it;the kind of fiction that constantly renews our faith in man's intelligence and imagination rather than man's distorted view of reality; the kind of fiction that reveals man's playful irrationality rather than his righteous rationality."
- Raymond Federman

A bit of reflective writing a did for my professor (I'm taking a senior seminar on "House of Leaves"):

I feel like my thinking quickly spirals out of control and loses focus when I grapple with postmodern ideas and texts. When reading House of Leaves, I still wanted meaning, strove to find meaning. I can’t get out of the goal-oriented philosophy of the classroom to accept that what I get out of House of Leaves may be something totally different than I expect or want. I feel like I’ll never “get” House of Leaves and I’m struggling with that fact. The fact that “getting it” may not be the point. Right now, one of my biggest struggles is understanding how to enact or apply (as a student/writer/artist/person) postmodern theory and the issues inherent in House of Leaves because they blow apart all my assumptions about meaning and communication.

I have this feeling that I’m right on the edge of comprehending something important, even if part of that means NOT comprehending. In my ENG 200 class (which seems a long time ago now), I hit a point on day in class when I realized, suddenly, that things were not as I’d always assumed and that the question of right/wrong was far more complex than I realized in high school. The memory of that moment is still very strong; it was a kind of intellectual vertigo that opened up a new way of thinking. I feel like I’m hovering near the edge of that again, only with a new and different realization.

... Postmodernism and I have a complicated relationship.

Dweeb

2010-08-28T12:00:00.003-04:00

Ahhh, weekend. The first Friday night of my senior year was quite a success, full of good company and good drinks. I can't help thinking, though, about how different my life will be a year from now. I'll miss some things about being an undergrad. Other things, not so much.

I have drafts. I am officially an editor. I feel a little overwhelmed, because there are infinite possibilities for giving feedback. But I don't want to overwhelm my writers when they see a draft covered in red. I am trying to focus on "higher order concerns" (as my professor recommended) and on being encouraging. Most of these writers do not really know what they are doing. On the other hand, I love editing. It feels so natural, so enjoyable... Perhaps I've had the personality for this job all along. I know I sound like a dweeb, but that's ok.

I've made it through the first week admirably. No meltdowns, no freakouts. And tonight is date night.

short skirt/long jacket

2010-08-24T12:13:00.004-04:00

This is my girl editor theme song. Partly. I'm trying to mix in some humor and compassion for all the scared newbie writers. But don't get me wrong. I mean business. The first round of Monday evening newspaper meetings (practicum, ed board meeting, general staff meeting) went very, very well. We shall see how things progress... I am excited and a little nervous about getting my first round of drafts.

I do not feel the same sense of overwhelming panic that I usually feel in the first week of classes. I keep waiting for it to set in, for something to go wrong, for me to freak out. I think I can safely say, though, that being a senior, knowing how this all works, knowing my capabilities and priorities is helping. I think that every semester has helped me become more confident, more disciplined... London taught me to go with the flow, that things will work out if you simply strike out and take a chance. Leap, and the net will appear. I still have trouble applying that to life post-graduation. May seems far away enough right now that I'm not freaking out... yet. I know I will, but I'm hoping I'll be able to understand that the anxiety is a surface thing, that deep down everything will be okay.

Life is good. I am in love. In love with this school, with the things I've chosen to pursue,with my many beautiful and wonderful friends, and with my man (even after two and a half years). Thunderstorm my lie in wait, but for now I am basking in the sun. I'll re-read this post later if I have trouble remembering how wonderful things are, really. I'm also going to re-read my last post... to remind myself to stay kind and compassionate (to myself and others).

Good Girl

2010-08-20T22:16:00.005-04:00

The stress has already begun, and I'm not even back at school yet. Heavens. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the kind of person I want to be, how I might handle certain situations differently. I want to be a calm person, an authentic person, a kind person who tries to be patient with people I like and people I don't. This is a high bar. I know I will not always be this person all the time. I will get sometimes get weepy, and anxious, and irritated. I will alternately be self righteous and self doubting.

I feel like this semester is an opportunity for a breakthrough (or rather, a messy one-step-forward-one-step-back kind of painful progress). I have realized this afternoon, with unprecedented clarity how wrong it is that I almost always equate my sense of self worth with my performance and what other people (might) think of me. I have for years assumed that if I do everything everyone else wants of me, if I always show up on time, turn things in on time, get good grades, go to every single meeting, then I am a good girl. I am worth something.

This is very, very bad. If I do everything, I end up feeling sick and crazy because it never ends and everyone always wants something. Someone else always appears to be doing more, doing better. When I realize I can't do everything, I feel an overwhelming sense of panic and guilt, but I am comparing myself to others and not being true to myself. But what if I do make everything happen? What if I somehow manage to "do it all'? I am passing some subtle and terrible reverse judgment on others: that I am somehow a better person because I show up on time, and do what other people want. That scares me.

This is not the way to become calmer, or more accepting, or more authentic. This is not the road to self respect. This is the road to taking on an unmanageable amount of stress, not being able to prioritize, and then unintentionally taking things out on friends and partners.

Why, then, do I have so much trouble controlling my knee-jerk reactions? Why can't I banish the voice that tells me to do every assignment perfectly, go to every meeting, stay up late and get up early, be on time, get an A every class. I wish I knew. I wish that I could pray or go to therapy (or both) and have this voice magically erased.

I don't think that's likely. Instead, I think I have to feel good that I can finally see this with a clarity I could never have reached a few years ago. Awareness is the first step, right? Today, I said "no" and I'm not going to feel guilty.

It's going to be a messy semester, but a good one I think.

Waiting

2010-08-18T22:07:00.002-04:00

Well, now. The summer slowly dwindles. I am both grateful for these last few days at home to rest and collect my thoughts, and quite restless and ready to get on with moving back in at school. House of Leaves is ... ridiculous. I think I like it, but I'm not sure. It's so dense, but it certainly draws you in. I jumped the other night when the phone rang while I was reading.

I miss my sweetheart. He is in Ohio for a funeral and I think about him off and on throughout the day, wishing I could be there too. I feel unusually tired, but I'm trying to stay up because he said he would call.

I've been distracting myself by sorting through all my clothes: washing, mending and packing for school. I finally found the clothes I had stashed in the very back corner of my closet before I left for England. What a long time ago that seems. I have enjoyed the pleasant surprise with which I greet items of clothing I forgot I owned. It's such a treat. On the other hand, some items are a bit shabbier than I realized. Some cuts had to be made.

So the days slip into one another, full of dishes and laundry and milking goats. It's peaceful in its own way and not a bad way to spend the last few days before my life suddenly becomes very, very busy.

Fret and Wonder

2010-08-12T14:42:00.003-04:00

Well, so far the whole "staying calm" when thinking about the future is tricky business. One step forward, one step back. I simply don't care for these in-between times when I think a lot about the future, but can't really take any meaningful steps forward yet. I know that things must happen in their own time, but I want to get down to it. Otherwise I fret and wonder. Deep down, I know that I am capable of managing life post-Guilford. But oh, these big transitions are dizzying and unsettling to think about. My worries cycle through a few different topics. Right now, money (or lack thereof) is on my mind.

Perhaps everything seems worse right now because I am tired, and because I am trying desperately to read "House of Leaves" but its making my eyes and my head hurt. Even doing laundry isn't making me feel more settled.

I have made a step forward on the exercise front. I have acquired some work out DVDs... this is positive because I can never get the gumption to actually go to the gym every day. If I don't have to leave my room, I think I'll do much better.

I've also acquired some lovely new recipes, thanks to my Ant Deeda. I will never make macaroni and cheese without a bread and molasses topping ever again. I'm glad to have some tasty dinners to share with my vegetarian friends as well.

I've started a new knitting project. I couldn't help myself. This one will definitely get finished, though.

Cutting Through

2010-08-04T23:36:00.003-04:00

This blog is starting to reach the dilemma of every journal I've ever attempted to keep. I wait so long to post that the intervening events and changes seem too overwhelming to tackle, and yet it seems terrible to just let them fall by the wayside undocumented. Often, I find that I don't write because it is too real and overwhelming to reflect closely on things. Often, I find myself feeling guilty for spending time here when I feel I ought to be spending my time on other things like little chores and errands, family time, researching grad schools, finally finishing up my summer reading assignments (some self imposed, others not). And yet, I always feel drawn back here. I need it in some strange way, and I have decided that I need to try and cut through the distractions pulling and diverting my urge to write. It's an unending battle, but I think maybe if I allow myself to write what I can when I can (without high-minded expectations) I might do a little better.

I'd like to do a little better at a lot of things. The list for now (besides more blogging):

Staying calm and trusting when thinking about life post-graduation

Starting to exercise at least a few times a week (regularly!) to manage stress levels etc.

Eating healthy and enjoying the process of shopping/cooking now that I will be totally off the meal plan

Resisting perfectionism hang-ups (particularly during my English capstone and being an editor for the newspaper this coming school year)

I think that's a long enough list for now. I could add more (like: actually finish one of those unfinished knitting projects languishing under your bed) but I don't want to bite off more than I can chew, or get distracted from the essential things to focus on.

Just Can't Get Ahead...

2010-07-08T22:52:00.004-04:00

Well.

What can I say? Life has been pulling me apart lately, bit by bit. There are not enough hours in the day to manage everything, to do everything I want and planned. I hate summer. Maybe hate is a strong word. Summers make me uncomfortable. They have become (as I've grown up) a strange liminal space, an awkward in-between time, a time loaded with certain expectations and difficulties. I should have known that the summer right after a semester in London (I want to go back!) and the beginning of senior year (ready or not) would be hard. My anxiety level has been rollercoastering from okay to crazy, and I can't stop thinking about the future, the past, everything but the right-now. I feel clueless about grad school, job searching, where to move to, what I want to do... Do I really have to take the GRE? I mean, after a bachelors degree, standardized tests shouldn't matter anymore. It's been harder than I thought to re-adjust to being back in Greensboro, to being back in the same city as my sweetheart. I still can't quite believe that we're back, and yet I'm starting to realize how many decisions we have in front of us. I feel off-kilter. I've woken up late for for work the past two mornings in a row. I've had the most awful tours. I have no food in the refrigerator. Someone left the milk out last night. I'm trying to schedule my vacation/family time and it's not working out exactly how I want, but I don't know what to do about it. I don't want summer school to end, and yet I'm so ready to be done. I really, really need a haircut. It's 100 degrees outside and humid. It's all very exhausting.

What's a girl to do?

Queer Theory?

2010-05-31T09:36:00.002-04:00

I've been remiss in my blogging. I do have a very good reason, though. I am taking two classes while working thirty hours a week at the admissions office. One of the classes is only five weeks long. It is about Queer Theory. I have class four days a week, and every night I come home, eat, make a massive mug of black tea so that I can spend the next two hours wading through Foucault, Judith Butler, and other deeply challenging theorists. Then, I get up the next morning and go to work.

Not today, though. Today I have one blissful day off. I'll spend most of the afternoon reading, but that's okay. I'm happy not to be reading Queer Theory late at night for a change. This class is like a bucket of ice water over the head after the almost non-existent academics in London. I like to think that it "hurts so good." It's fascinating and eye opening. It's also beating my brain to a pulp.

The campus is so quiet over the summer. It feels strange. Occasionally I get flashes of memory from my time abroad, and I think, "Did that really happen?" It feels like a dream now that I'm back to my life as it was. Only, my life isn't quite as it was because things have changed, I've changed... Some days I miss London so much. Other days I am beyond content right here.

I'm just holding out for the end of my five week class. Life will become easier then, as I'll be down to just my film class (which is the awesome... watching movies is the best kind of homework). By that time I will also finally have my sweetie back. He's still in Germany, toiling away to get ready for his big, scary finals. I'm so ready to have him back here with me instead.

So, that's that. I've decided to start doing yoga to keep myself calm in the midst of these classes. And, for all the hard work I'm putting in, at least I got lucky with my apartment mates this summer. I love them.

Transitions: Take Two

2010-05-16T22:41:00.003-04:00

Talk about transitions. I landed in the US about a week ago, barely escaping the second round of airport shutdowns in Europe thanks to the ash cloud. I spent 10 hours on a plane and then spent the night in Philadelphia before getting up to fly home, but I made it back. It was worth the extra week I spent there with my grandmother. I had a week at home to get over my jet lag, and now I am back at school for summer classes and job. It all starts tomorrow at 8am.

I don't know what to say. I've actually been avoiding my blog because I'm too overwhelmed to write, and there are some things I just can't write about here. I am trying to keep calm and carry on, to know that I can handle the next few weeks, that I can do anything. I can handle these classes, I've done it before. I can handle a new job, because this time I'm not even dealing with cultural differences. I can handle another four weeks of separation from my beloved, we've done that before too.

I will say this: as disoriented as I feel right now, it is good to be back at my familiar little college. I missed it.

Transitions

2010-04-30T17:31:00.002-04:00

There and back again. After a day of travel, I am back on British soil. Germany was blissful - everything was perfect. I realized all over again, with more force than ever, that I have a partner and a sweetheart who is also my best friend. I think that's what I miss the most when he's not around; I miss having my best friend with me. It was both harder and easier to say goodbye this time around. Now I am by myself again, and I have to settle back into this feeling.

It is good to be back in London, though. I feel an overwhelming sense of affection for England when I fly back from another European country. I just love it here, and (if I may hazard the opinion) I think I feel a kind of affinity for the British. I do appreciate them. I am here staying with family and my grandmother has flown out here to join me for the week. I am sure we are going to have a grand old time. We will spend time in London, and in Paris, and then it's back to the US for the first time in about four months. I'm not quite ready to process that yet. I am excited and apprehensive at the same time. The time has flown by, and yet I am starting to realize that this experience has changed me, probably in ways that I won't realize until I get home. I will say this: I can't wait to be reunited with my wardrobe. I am so tired of living out of a suitcase.

Well, I am off to bed. I am going to get cozy with a copy of Joyce's "Dubliners" and then hopefully fall asleep and not think about any of this for a few sweet hours.

Bliss

2010-04-28T05:17:00.002-04:00

Well, it turns out the volcano had mercy, and I am now in Germany. I am in heaven, not only because I am reunited with my boyfriend after almost three months of separation, but also because the Germans seem to be obsessed with chocolate. I could learn to love this country, I think.

In all seriousness now, I have to say that I am still in shock knowing my program is over. Over. On the other hand, I am so, so happy right now. This is a good way to transition, I think.

That is all for now. I am off to spend the day with my sweetheart.

Thanks a lot Eyjafjallajokull

2010-04-20T11:02:00.002-04:00

The British are really onto something with this whole tea and biscuits thing. I am having both right now, as I write this, and it is easing the tight, anxious pain in my chest. What do you do when you've just botched what is possibly the dumbest test you've ever taken? Drink tea. What do you do when you're suddenly not sure if you'll be able to visit your boyfriend (who you haven't seen in nearly three months, and might not see again until June if the flight gets canceled)? Have a biscuit.

I am trying to stay calm. I know that, one way or another, everything will be okay. I know that I have no control over any of this now, and that I just have to wait and see. It's like I'm on a roller-coaster: I get nervous and worried, and then I talk myself down. Then something comes up, and I get nervous again, and I have to talk myself down all over again. It's exhausting. Add in the sudden emotion that everyone is feeling about having to say goodbye, and things get even worse. It's funny, because in this little London flat packed with 21 students we've all been irritating each other quite a bit. On the other hand, now that it's time to leave soon all the good times are coming back to us. You just can't go through this together and not bond in some way. Now, it's going to be hard to say goodbye and go our separate ways.

If we get to go our separate ways as planned, that is. If things get any worse, I'm falling back on the other British way of coping: the pub.

Countdown

2010-04-17T08:29:00.003-04:00

The countdown continues. I've got about a week left until I fly for Germany. At least, if this volcanic ash doesn't interfere with my plans. We'll see. I am hopeful that by the time I need to fly, everything will have cleared up.

I shouldn't really be blogging. I should be writing my 3,000 word internship report, putting together a presentation to go with it, and finishing my short story. Then I have to study for a final exam.

Sigh.

Sadly, this internship report is dead boring. On the other hand, I'm having serious doubts about the quality of my fiction. Fortunately, I have stocks of tea and biscuits to help me through these troubling times. I have decided that I am going to eat as much as I want of the foods I'll miss when I go back home.

It's not really surprising, but it does seem that as soon as I have become comfortable in London and at my internship it is time to leave. I will miss this city. I will miss the people, miss the lifestyle and the energy. On the other hand, I won't miss living with 20 other people in one tiny flat. It's getting harder and harder to stay focused on the present with so much travel and transition in front of me. But. These papers won't right themselves. I'll try to write more later when I don't have them hanging over me.

Oh my

2010-04-09T19:50:00.003-04:00

My goodness... am I down to two weeks now?

My blogging has been non-existent because life has been so jam-packed full of work, and school, and play, and company, and living. I also have not wanted to examine my feelings all to closely. It's easier to keep moving.

The next few weeks are going to be hard. I have two papers to write this weekend, and so much more after that. Life is good though. I have my aunt here to visit me (the chicago ant) and it has been divine. We have dined well, been to the theater (Private Lives, with Kim Cattrall and Matthew Macfayden), and wandered endlessly through the streets of London. It is so nice to have the perspective of someone who has taken a very twisted, yet delightful path through life. It gives me a renewed sense of faith, the feeling that everything will fall into place, even if it doesn't fall in according to my plan. Proof: I now have a job lined up for summer that I didn't think I was going to get.

It is hard to envision leaving this city. I will miss it, and yet I can't wait to be done... I can't wait to go to Germany and see my beloved, can't wait to bomb around London and Paris with my grandma, can't wait for summer classes and work... it's all very mixing and difficult, but at this moment I feel calm and very happy. Perhaps partly because it's Friday as well, but there you go.

P.S. I went to Oxford last weekend... it was sublime, a true pilgrimage.

(The Inklings pub)

(Christ Church College)

(Christ Church Meadow)

Four Weeks

2010-03-28T12:38:00.007-04:00

Four weeks. I have four weeks, just about to the day, left in my program. I cannot quite believe it, and I can feel the pain and confusion of transitioning creeping back up on me. I am happy and grateful that I have five days in Germany with my boyfriend, and then another week in Paris and London with my grandma to help ease out of living in Europe for almost four months.

All the same I get anxious when I think about the end of my program, because it is the beginning of the end, and the beginning of something else all at the same time. I am going to miss London, and yet I am so excited to get back to all that is waiting for me at home. Transition times also make me think about graduation, and getting a job, and deciding where to go to grad school and that terrifies me a little bit still. Even though I am even more sure now that I will be ready for it when it comes.

I am still trying to make the most out of things. Yesterday I went to the Camden market, and it was overwhelming and wonderful.

I ate perogies. They were tasty.

Then last night I sat outside and smoked hookah and drank sangria and talked for hours about life, and relationships, and London with some of my girlfriends. It was an appropriate end to the day.

Now, I will have frozen pizza for dinner because the city has shut down all the water on our block.

Cheers.

Cooperation in Violence?

2010-03-21T12:03:00.004-04:00

"The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. More than that, it is cooperation in violence."
-Thomas Merton

I stumbled upon this quote at work the other day and I was quite struck when I read it. It's been resurfacing in my mind today. I haven't been sleeping well the past few nights, thanks to an unsettled mind. I keep going though, because I don't want to miss anything.

Today I just kept thinking about that quote, though. I realized this morning that if I was at home and in this state, I would give myself a quiet day. Lately I've fallen into the trap that if I don't take every single opportunity to go out, to see something, do something, meet someone, then I'll regret it. Maybe that's partially true. On the other hand, I'm burned out. I'm so tired from dealing with the newness and uncertainty of my internship, from another class that has been added to my schedule, from missing people... I think maybe I need to stop distracting myself and taking some more quiet time. It's a precious thing around here, in a city in a flat with twenty other people.

Anyway. Today I walked in the park and made cookies. Now, I am going to watch TV or read. I will do homework tomorrow.

In other news, my internship is going well. The culture shock is a bit more intense - the British approach their work very differently that Americans, from what I can tell. I'll write more about that later. Also, I am going to tour the Globe Theater on Tuesday. At long last, my dream comes true.

Acceptance

2010-03-15T06:36:00.005-04:00

Acceptance. It's a difficult word, difficult to comprehend, difficult to adopt. At least for me. My natural state seems to be resistance... I fret and complain and resist all the time. My classes aren't hard enough, my work is stressful, I don't like living with so many other people, the weather won't warm up; the list goes on, and it changes depending on the day. I don't know what to write for my next short story, waiting for inspiration doesn't work. I miss my boyfriend and I weep when we talk because I don't want to be this far apart anymore. I'm nervous about going home, and yet in some ways I can't wait.

Yet, every so often, I get flashes of insight where I think to myself that if I could simply accept where I am life would be easier. If I could accept the hard things that I can't stand, maybe I'd feel less exhausted. Maybe I would enjoy the things I love more... I don't know, this is a slippery thing, hard to get at, hard to do. I just keep thinking back to Italy and my first terrifying, lonely day while I waited for my friend to meet me. I was alone in Siena, in a sea of people who didn't speak the same language I did. I felt anxious just trying to find dinner. I didn't talk to anyone all day, but wandered through the sun-soaked cobblestoned streets by myself. It was awful and delicious all at the same time, but the important part is that after a few days I simply started to accept the language barrier for what it was. I can't even really describe it, excpet that once I realized there was nothing I could do about it, it just stopped bothering me. I floated through incomprehinsible conversations with smiles and lots of gestures. I also started to accept that, no matter what happend or where I went, things would be alright.

Being back in London has been more challenging that I thought though. I wonder if I can't get back to the way I felt in Italy - accpeting what I can't change, enjoying what I have, knowing everything will alright. My program is already more than half over, and I want to make it good.

Yesterday, it was sunny and I went for a walk in Hyde Park. There were bunches of crocuses, spread across the grass. It felt like each one was a tiny little promise that spring is on its way.

Weekend...

2010-03-13T18:48:00.003-05:00

Wow.

So, I am exhausted. I've been meaning to write for days, to try (however feebly) to capture my travels in Italy, what it's like to be back in London, the first few days of my internship.

However, actually participating in all those things means that I have not had time or energy to write about it all here. Something tells me it would be inappropriate to blog at work (at least here, part of my job is to blog, except for the company... so, that worked out well).

I am about ready to collapse right now. Let me just say that working from 9 to 5 makes Saturday seem utterly luxurious. Weekends are nice, especially when they are filled with mojitos, swing dancing at the blues club, and street markets. Tomorrow church, grocery shopping, and finishing up my application to be a section editor at the school newspaper next year (something tells me I don't really know what I'm getting myself into there).

Soon, I will write about Italy. In the meantime, I'll leave you with a photograph.

(Side street in Siena, Italy)

Oh, England

2010-02-25T15:06:00.003-05:00

My blogging has been woefully inadequate, and for that I must apologize. Life has been insane leading up to spring break, and I am getting on a plane to Italy tomorrow morning. I had a fantastic weekend in the countryside with my dear old dad last week... I want to blog about it more when I have more time. It was stunning, overwhelming, and somehow familiar all at once. The culture shock is also much more overwhelming in the countryside than in the city.

This is a photo I took from the top of Cadbury "castle" (old hill fortress that has been speculatively linked to Camelot). You are looking at Corton Ridge, and behind it is the village of Corton Denham... the village my family used to live in before they moved to Canada in the 1800s. The entire weekend was a trip back into family history, myth, and all the literature I loved growing up. I felt that I was taking a tromp through the Shire. Rolling fields, tiny villages, 19th century famrhouses, old gravestones with my family surname, a roaring fire in the pub... it is all a happy glow in my memory. I am blocking out the moments of terror I felt in the rental car my father was driving to get us there... barreling through the English countryside with no real idea of where you are going can be quite unnerving. After this past weekend, I also have to agree with Bill Bryson when he says that the British seem to take a quiet, intense, and ornery pride in doing everything differently than the whole rest of the world.

Now, my classes are to be set aside for a week as I spend my spring break in Tuscany. I am nervous and excited. I have traveled by myself before, but never to another country. On the other hand, I can't stop thinking about Italian food, Italian countryside, Italian architecture, and history... I've been waiting for this for a long time, and it's finally happening.

It will be grand. I'll update when I can, but I do not intend to take my laptop with me. I think it will be good for me to go without it for a week.

Spotted Dick Pudding

2010-02-14T18:21:00.003-05:00

Dun-Dun! Spotted Dick Pudding in a can! It's basically a cake/bread like substance, in a can, that you boil. You boil the can in water. Very strange. You're supposed to put custard on top, but I forgot that part. It has raisins, hence the "spotted." Still not sure why it's called "dick" pudding, except that maybe God wanted me to giggle a little while I was here.

Yum.
All in all, it wasn't bad. Not as bad as it looks. It was sweet and cinnamony, and I do like raisins. I don't know if anyone actually even eats the stuff over here, and I don't know if I'd buy it again. However, it was an entertaining thing to do on a chilly evening.

What's next? Bangers and mash? If I am feeling ambitious, it might happen. I've been very busy between writing an article for the student newspaper back home, and writing my first short story for my creative writing class. Things are not slowing down, either. This week I have a trip to Al Jazeera, and (gulp) my interview for my internship. Oh, and my 21st birthday. The my dad is coming to visit. Not long after, I will be in Italy. I booked a hotel room in Siena all by myself for a good price, and felt very grown up. I feel good, if overwhelmed.

P.S. Happy Valentines Day. I wasn't thrilled to have my sweetie in another country, but then I was reminded how lucky I am to have him at all... So, that's that.

Missing You

2010-02-10T18:19:00.004-05:00

He has come and he has gone again. The past few days have been overwhelming and wonderful; my boyfriend of nearly two years (our anniversary is this month, in fact) came to visit me here in London. He came from Germany, where he is studying abroad for the semester and stayed for four blissful days. It was magical visit, from stumbling into Sunday morning service at St Paul's Cathedral together, to eating lunch in China Town, to buying tea at Twinings (still in the original location from the 18th century). We said goodbye this morning at 4am on a cold street corner next to a bus stop.

Over his visit, we had many long conversations about topics that just can't be covered over the phone, and I realized that those conversations are perhaps what I miss the most. This trip has made me think a lot about what it means to share your life with someone. Back home, we share a city, we share friends, we share our days, our joys and our frustrations (even when we were deeply frustrated with each other, as we sometimes are). I didn't think much of it until we came to Europe, where we have such different and separate lives. I miss that kind of being together; at the same time I am savoring my independence and the experience of something so totally new. I am grateful and happy that we are where we are, grateful we can share even part of this experience with each other. I also cried bitterly off and on all day today because every time it gets harder to say goodbye.

It's all very mixed up... I am full of so many different emotions. I suppose this experience would not be what it is without that. I was quite touched when, in the middle of his visit, David told me that after seeing the city he can tell that London is where I need to be. I smiled when he said it because I know he is right, and I am grateful that he can see it. I have no doubts that he is in the right place too. I do not doubt that this is making us both stronger, wiser people (at least, I really, really hope it is).

In the end, I am always grateful just to have him in my life, because my life is just better with him in it. It's that simple, really.

Journey?

2010-02-04T12:58:00.006-05:00

Observation: many British boys are a lot like many American boys. They drink a lot, joke crudely with one another, and fail to understand the concept of subtle flirtation. I find it amusing until someone tries to feel me up, and then the once charming, hour long relationship ends. Then the boy in question moves on to some other girls with whom is more likely to "get lucky" with. I take satisfaction in the fact, as a writer, I can observe and record for my own amusement and everyone else never knows that they are fodder for my pen... (On a less lofty note, I took satisfaction in the fact that my boyfriend is much, much more attractive and charming than any of the silly boys I met last night.) I am also amused and bemused by the sudden heart-to-heart conversations that arise after a few drinks, and surprised at how the British girls I met got excited over Journey's "Don't Stop Believin" when we were dancing. So much American TV and music over here, but I finally got to dance like crazy with my girlfriends, and that was what I really wanted.

Anyway, no more drinking and dancing tonight. Just homework. Earlier this afternoon I spent about 10 minutes starting at the portrait of Jane Austen in the National Portrait Gallery. I was also very excited to see the portrait of Lord Byron in a turban, William Wordsworth looking pensive, and other Romantic types that I've spent semesters studying. Now I am staying in to relax and write, despite protest.

My boy is coming this weekend. Words cannot describe my excitement (well, they might but it would be unbearably sappy I am sure, so I'll spare you). S

So life continues in London, fun, confusing, occasionally awkward... at least I never get bored.

P.S. I have not forgotten about the Spotted Dick, by the way. Next post, I swear.

Feeling Blue

2010-01-30T15:37:00.003-05:00

So. I suppose that the happy glow wears off of everything after a while. I think my honeymoon phase is over - I'm not too worried, because I am sure that my initial infatuation with London will develop into a deeper and more committed relationship. The last week has been very rocky, though, and mostly thanks to my living situation. London as a whole, the people who live here, do not bother me. Living in a tiny flat with 20 other people, having no privacy, dirty dishes, and a water heater that breaks every two days bothers me. Add in some academic trials (teachers: don't be vague about the assignments and then slam me for something trivial), and the explosion of stress that occurred in my room the other night and you've got one rough week for all of us.

I am trying hard to stay positive - I am grateful for my sweet roomies, and grateful that I get to have brunch with some (kind of distant) family that I have here in London tomorrow morning.

But I am also still really grumpy and firmly in a funk. A big, dark, irritable, gloomy, depressed, weepy funk. I guess I just need to wait it out.

I want to go to the countryside where things are quiet and there are wide open spaces.

History

2010-01-26T12:02:00.002-05:00

History simply layers up in this country. People use and reuse the same places over the span of thousands of years. Case in point, Stonehenge. I was privileged enough to take a day trip out to the famous monument. Our lovely tour guide (who happened to look very much like Helen Mirren) gave us a lot of information about how little we actually know about Stonehenge because it really is terribly, terribly old. I wandered about in the chilly air of Salisbury plain looking at that pile stones and feeling the kind of awe one must feel around terribly old things. I realized that I just couldn't comprehend how old it was or the people who so mysteriously built it. I felt very touristy, but ultimately I think I would have regretted not seeing Stonehenge.

After the Henge, we sped over to the city of Bath. History really is literally in layers there - Roman baths underneath, Georgian city above built all in the same local stone, all transformed into a modern, working city. I of course was absolutly giddy to be in the city where Jane Austen set so many novels. I recognized street names from the books (doesn't get much nerdier than that, does it?). Anyway, it was quite remarkable, and quite magical. The city is beautiful and fascinating; I could wander around there all afternoon. I want to go back just to sit in the tearoom in the Jane Austen center one more time, under the slightly tacky portait of Mr. Darcy.

Now I am back in London. Things have been a little difficult at the flat lately, what with all the problems with the hot water. People are going out tonight and part of me wants to stay in and read and sip some tea (or wine)... I never know if I should indulge my reclusive tendencies or not. We shall see. I do plan on getting out and about this week. There is so much to do and see in London that I just get overwhelmed and forget what I even wanted to do in the first place.
Not that I am complaining.

Beans on Toast

2010-01-21T18:15:00.002-05:00

Today was a busy day. I was privileged enough to take a tour of Red Bee Media with my class. It was pretty fabulous seeing a working broadcast center. People always ask me what job I want when I graduate. I never know what to tell them because no one has ever given me any practical, hands-on information about any sort of career (college doesn't actually prepare you for "real life" it turns out). Today was a thrilling foray into the world of professional broadcasting.

After lunch, I headed out to the Victoria and Albert Musuem (pictured above). I spent two hours in only a few galleries. It was wonderful, but by the end my feet and my back were feeling very cranky. i retreated back to the flat and had a quiet dinner.

Now, on the subject of food. Today I finally fixed myself up a staple of the English breakfast: beans on toast.

The beans are like canned baked beans, only they are white beans in a tomato sauce. I made toast, added hot beans, and some salt and pepper. It was very tasty, like a ligher version of American baked beans. I wouldn't have thought to have beans for breakfast, so I might make it a regular afternoon lunch/snack. Beans are cheap, and the give some variety.

It was my second foray into uniquely English food after sticky toffee pudding. I have decided to try out as many "traditional" English foods that I can (at least, out of what can be found at Sainsburys since I am on a budget). This was mostly inspired by my spotting a can at the store labelled "Spotted Dick Pudding." I am intruiged. I want to try more foods with funny names. I will try and document my foodie adventures here for you all as they come.

Of Parks and Puppies

2010-01-17T14:27:00.002-05:00

Today the weather was quite fine, sunny and much warmer than it has been. I and a few of my flatmates jumped on the opportunity and wandered around Hyde Park/Kensington Gardens all afternoon. It was beautiful.

I am quite in love with the park, and I anticipate many happy hours there, especially once the weather gets warmer. In Hyde Park, all the dogs are allowed to run off their leashes. Londoners come to give their dogs a run, and the park was full of delirious dogs running around after tennis balls and sticks. The dogs will not come up to you though, which is very interesting to me. At home I always worry about being approached by strange dogs; here, they trot right by without even looking at you.

I am rather glad the snow is gone; I like to see everything green outside after I have been shut up with various ailments. Walking restored more of my good spirits, and I am looking forward to this week. I hope to get out and do some more exploring on my own (I find the only cure for missing certain people is to increase my solitude; funny, isn't it?), and I hope to join the knitting group that meets at a nearby college. I think think of no better way of crossing cultural boundaries than through needlework.

I have been scheming over my spring break as well. Here is the plan: Go to Tuscany. Rent a bike. Ride around, and eat Italian food. Good plan, no?

Disoriented

2010-01-14T14:23:00.005-05:00

Everything in London feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. In some ways, London is like any other city. It is not such an absolute change as it could be. Everyone speaks English, there are cars, and shops, and movie theaters. In some ways, I don't feel as if I've come very far at all.

Then there are all the little differences that crop up when I least expect it. Small acts, such as crossing the street, are different. I'm still anxious about getting run over because I looked the wrong way before crossing. Making change is a nightmare. Everywhere I go I am not quite sure how to act, what the etiquette is. I have to keep reminding myself that the pounds are not equivalent to dollars. Even watching the weather and seeing a map of the UK is strange. I look at it and think, "Oh my God, that where I am."

I had to go to the doctor today (long story involving a 24hr stomach bug that has now morphed into an infected tonsil), and it made me realize that I didn't know where to go or what to do like I do at home. Then I had to find a pharmacy to get my anti-biotics. Did my overseas insurance policy cover the medicine? How much would it be? Little things jump out at me all the time and I realize that I don't know automatically what to do. It's strange because I don't expect it, even though I should.

I have survived without too much trouble. I met with a very kind doctor who reminded me that the sudden change in environment could be quite hard on me, and that I should take care of myself and keep my spirits up.

So, that is what I intend to do. I may have missed out on the theater tonight, but I have much to look forward to when I get well. Mostly I am grateful to have the room (which I share with two others) to myself for a few hours.

There is only one thing I miss right now. I have noticed that any word or offer of kindness by my flatmates has made me want to hug them. I realized that I haven't had many hugs since I got here. I am hugged constantly at home by my friends and my boyfriend (we are an affectionate lot; Americans seem to hug more anyway), but here there is no one I know so well yet. Really, I'd just like to cuddle with one of them now.

I suppose I'll just have to be a big girl and give myself over to the healing powers of tea, biscuits, and Jane Austen.

The Adventure Begins

2010-01-09T07:39:00.003-05:00

I've been wanting to post, dear readers, for a long time. I've been in London for two days now, and it feels much, much longer. I am overwhelmed. My laptop is also stubbornly refusing to connect to the wireless (I am borrowing from my kind roommate Abbey). The clueless IT guy did nothing, and I don't know what's wrong. I hope that I will get it fixed soon, and then my fingers will be able to type until they wear out.

Anyway. Kensington is beautiful, the city is amazing. The living situation is basically like being in a hostel; 20 people and one kitchen. That will be a challenge. It is worth it though. I am living right down the street from the house where Virginia Woolf used to live. Today I took a bus tour and saw... so many places I want to go. I don't know where to start. I can't even comprehend the notion of taking classes yet. I want to go to Brighton, and Bath, and Oxford too. I keep thinking of all the British novel's I've read. I've fallen in love with pubs, they are the perfect place to relax.

I can't even compose anything about how I feel. I am excited, and nervous. I have yet to hear from my sweetheart who is getting settled in Germany. I am trying not to be shy about embarrass myself with the Brits (so many coins... I hate change!) I don't know, I just don't know how I feel or what to think. I am adjusting well so far, but we'll see how things go. So I think I could categorize this as the honeymoon phase. My strongest feeling is one of gratitude, really. I am so grateful and happy to be here. So few have this opportunity. I am convinced it is the perfect place for me right now.

I suppose that is all for now. I will write something a little more organized when I have my own computer working again. Cheers.

Leav'in on a jet plane...

2010-01-05T18:59:00.003-05:00

Tonight is my last night in the states for next four months or so.

I don't know what to say. I am excited, and very happy. Somewhat nervous, not happy about some of my goodbyes, but this is it. This is it, I have to go and just trust that everything will be okay. Better than okay.

I will blog as much as possible (don't know what that means yet, we'll see). I will do my very best to keep you posted, dear readers, on all my adventures in London and in Europe. Wish me luck.

So, that's that.

2010-01-01T17:30:00.002-05:00

That is that. 2009. Done. Caput. Over.

Usually I write a lengthy retrospective on the past year, a tally of all that has happened... I am having trouble thinking about the past this year, though. I have been so intensely focused on the future that it is difficult to think in detail about 2009. I suppose I will write down a few generalities and then keep focusing on the future.

2009 was difficult. Academically, certainly. Emotionally too. I consider that a good thing, though. I think I have been slowly learning to take things in stride more, to ride out difficulties, to be more patient. Maturity is a big word, but I think I managed to gain some this year, kicking and screaming all the way... I've seen it happen to some of my closest friends too. Maybe that is part of college; watching each other grow. 2009 was rewarding. My relationships have been rewarding, my classes have been rewarding. I am not the writer or the thinker I used to be. I think, if anything, I have gained more conviction and confidence that I had before.

Courage and conviction. This is what I wish for all of us heading into 2010. I know that my difficulties pale in comparison to some. I see that we are all struggling for something, for someone, for some reason. I hope we know when to lean on one another, when to be grateful, when to be patient.

I am trying to see past my anxiety to just be grateful for the grand adventure that is in front of me. It is not easy during the stage of packing and anticipation; of scared and excited imaginings. I am envisioning afternoons in museums, walks in Hyde Park, visits to The Globe. I am also envisioning more stressful things, but I'm trying not think about that, as it is a waste of energy. At any rate, I can't wait to document it here for you all. I am grateful, and ready (mostly) to set off on my own. I am grateful that my loved ones love me enough to let me go (although it does sound like I may have a number of visitors!).

Best wishes for the new year.

2009-12-28T16:32:00.012-05:00

It is so much easier to stand back and frame a photograph than to stand back and frame things in the bigger picture. I am not good at transitions, goodbye-for-nows, or letting go. I reach accpetance eventually (off and on) because I have to, because I know that we are both doing the right thing. But being home makes me feel cramped and trapped - like I'm in high school again. It hurts more than I thought it would, thinking about leaving the man in that photograph. It hurts even more not having the time or privacy to say the right goodbye before we both leave the country.

I am ready to leave right now, I want it for both of us. All this businness of shopping and packing makes me anxious and a little scared. The time between now and when I leave seems so long, and all too short at the same time. I am trying to find a balance between holding on to what I have here and letting go enough to be brave and just cut the ties. I want to let go, just let go and go away... but I won't believe that I'm actually going until my foot is inside that plane. Day-to-day tasks seem surreal knowing that I'm going to London so soon, and I bounce back and forth between being grateful, excited, ready... and not ready at all. Scared, frustrated, overwhelmed. And then I beat myself up for it, telling myself that I should just be grateful and excited for such an adventure. This is, after all, what I've dreamed of for years.

Dreams are complicated when they come true, though. Sometimes my relationship (going on two years soon now, oh my) feels like a dream come true. It is. But it hurts sometimes too. It's hurts to love that much. We hurt each other on accident sometimes, we can't have what we want sometimes. Part of me can see rationally and be patient; another part of me just wants to cry. I get angry when I come home because it feels like going backwards and I hate it.

And yet, things keep falling into place. I am lucky, so lucky. I have worked hard, but my open, desiring hands have not been left empty. I suppose it is better to have too much of life, rather than too little.

I Will Arise

2009-12-25T23:04:00.006-05:00

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

-- W.B. Yeats

I suppose we are always searching for peace. I have yet to find absolute peace and contentment this Christmas. Life continues to be uncomfortable, and irritating, and overwhelming. It is also exciting and wonderful and I feel deeply the the love and abounding opportunity that is in front of me. I am happy. I do wonder if I will always chase after peace, dropping slow from the veils of the morning, just like Yeats.

Happy Christmas.

2009-12-21T19:24:00.003-05:00

It is both very difficult, and very easy to live with people who have known you your entire life. I deal with this paradox every time I come home. It's wonderful in some ways. I slip back in with a beautiful ease, happy to be with people who have known me so intimately and so long. There's nothing like family, really. The hard part is trying to fit the parts of you that have changed and grown back into the comforting old role... It's painful and irritating because no matter what you do, things will never be like they were. You are different. They are different. My thirteen year old brother (who is now taller than I am) picked me right up off the floor when I hugged him hello.

I am looking forward to Christmas. A break is nice, although I feel like I've gone and left my brain at school.

Urg

2009-12-14T23:43:00.003-05:00

I hate packing up my room so much. Packing to go on a trip is nice. Packing up your stuff so that you can deposit it in a storage unit for four months... not so nice.

I do not feel as emotionally overwhelmed as I have in the past. I'm looking forward to a lot of things. But the logistical difficulties of having my room in a state of chaos is so hard: wondering what should go where, and if I've covered everything, and which dishes were mine exactly? ...Uh, well, it's not fun. I am contemplating sleep so that I can do well during my final tomorrow, but the idea of sleeping in the middle of this mess is distressing to me. I am tempted to call my boyfriend for the third time today, just to have someone talk me down from my crazy-ness.

I always start listening to really angsty rock music during this time of the semester. Only the past few days have been odd because I've been switching between Bing Crosby and Weezer.

Oh I don't know what the point of this post is. I hate pointless posts too, but I don't know what else to do with myself right now. Please tell me packing makes you crazy too. Packing and finals. Urg.

Sometimes I go about in pity for myself...

2009-12-12T14:24:00.002-05:00

And so things come to a close. The semester is winding down. The last issue of the school newspaper for this semester was published Friday, and so ends my first foray into the world of college journalism. I'd say it was successful. I am glad I have chosen to focus on writing, rather than literature. I love reading great literature, but lit theory does wear upon me after a while. Ceramics is also wrapping up. All that is left is to wait for the kilns to be fired, and unloaded. I am very excited and very sad at the same time about this. Alas, I have one more test in my history class, and there is a mountain of packing ahead of me. I will make it through these things, though.

In the meantime, other things are opening up. I have my visa (thank goodness) and my class schedule for London. I can start to see the multitude of opportunities that are unfolding in front of me, and it's very exciting. I am not afraid anymore. I was talking to a friend the other day who said to me, "I am starting to feel more and more grounded." I agree with her. I have been thinking about a quote I wrote out for myself at the beginning of the semester. For a time, I had a hard time appreciating it, but it's been true all along:

"Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while a great wind is bearing me across the sky." -Ojibwa proverb.

Difficulty and stress has made me see clearer, now that I am on the other side. I know this peace and clarity won't last, but I hold onto the startling moments of faith as long as I can.

Stand By Me

2009-12-03T00:55:00.003-05:00

It really is nice, amidst worries about final projects and academic performance, to be reminded that you are a person outside of all those things. Today was full of worry and stress about school and deadlines. But tonight I was reminded that I am not defined by those things.

Tonight I was forcefully reminded of what it means to stick by someone. To be there with a sympathetic ear and a level head (as much as you can, anyway) ... every so often you get to see the result; the beautiful culmination of overcoming struggle and making it beautiful. That is something. It feels good to be proud, to be there in the audience thinking, "they made it!" So many people in my life have done that for me. It feels good to turn around and pass it on.

So. I am surviving. And I am so, so excited for London. Really, I can't tell you.

Home is where the house is...

2009-11-28T22:02:00.004-05:00

I am home for Thanksgiving break. It's been nice: good food, Streetfighter 4, chill'in out time with the family. On the other hand, the whole homework thing is really hard to deal with on break.

Being home is unsettling. I keep thinking, "I want to go home," and I'm thinking of school. That's the first time that has happened. I miss my routine, my space, my friends, my professors. Even if school is stressful, it's stress that I've chosen for myself.

It just gets harder and harder to come back here... I feel a little guilty admitting that, but it's true. I'm just too attached to living on my own.

I want to go to London. Now.

Have I found you, flightless bird?

2009-11-18T15:20:00.003-05:00

It's funny how quickly determination and confidence can melt into anxiety and fear of failure. I can resolve to steel myself against the pressure cooker of tackling a story for the newspaper on adderall abuse, but being in the middle of it with a deadline approaching is another thing. An approaching history paper and a trip to immigration services on Friday morning also doesn't help.

It's all muddle. I am aware of my need to cope with stress because it won't resolve itself. Yet, I feel like I can't get a good night's sleep and my stomach hurts every time I eat. I fight with my boyfriend, and I wonder why my best friend is acting upset with me again, and I feel bad about not making time for everyone and everything. Yet... I don't feel quite as out of control as I have in the past. Maybe the lesson is that you should stop fooling yourself and understand that you'll just make it though ... because sometimes that's all there is TO do. I've stopped hoping for things to suddenly much easier, and I'm trying to settle in and focus on what's most important to me. Translated into today, that would mean playing some guitar to relax, making some tea and settling into my armchair to get down to business on this article.

It is a very gloomy day, cold, foggy, and wet. As my favorite professor once said, "I love this kind of weather because it give me an excuse to do the things I always want to do, like curl up with a blanket and read." I agree with that statement. What else is there to do but settle in and write on a day like this? Only one thing: listen to Iron and Wine while you do it.

Bliss

2009-11-10T23:43:00.004-05:00

“If you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you ... I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be.”

-Joseph Campbell

As much as my public speaking class annoys me, it has made me rediscover Joe Campbell at a very opportune moment. Amid confusion and doubt and stress it is good to be reminded of him.

I have accepted that from now until the end of the semester I will get no rest. I am deeply committed to what I am doing (most of it anyway, my history test not so much but that's ok). I am comforted by the fact that if you are committed and hard working and good at what you do, people notice. I didn't realize how much respect I've garnered until this week, and it makes me want to work even harder.

I am also starting to accept my call to adventure (aka London). I am ready to step on that plane and let the stream of life carry me wither it will. If only I could skip the paperwork...

Stress levels are being managed through my Bollywood dance workout dvd, and forcing myself to take the time to cook a good meal every day (even if that means making a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwhich; probably the most intense combination of comfort food ever).

It is both very difficult and very easy to stay in love with someone, lovers or friends. I find sticking around is worth it.

I am fighting with my need to study and siren song of my pillow. I think it is time the pillow won out.

Goodnight all, and pleasant dreams.

Possibilities

2009-11-04T23:08:00.005-05:00

Last night I saw Paul Krugman speak. Awesome dude, depressing topic. I don't want to hide from reality, but the assertion that the unemployment rate probably won't even start going back down until well after I graduate was a little frightening.

Such is life, I suppose. Catastrophe is always more possible than we like to think. The recent recession being an excellent example.

On the other hand, my adviser (and mentor) told me today that it was quite possible for me to go out and just invent field to work in, to make myself a job. She said she's seen it happen. I love her for her mix of pragmatism and optimism. It's a balance I'd like to strike myself.

One good thought about the future: today I earnestly started to consider pursuing editorship at the paper next year.

In the meantime, it's hard to keep thinking about things like that when I have SO much to do. I've hardly had time to breathe the past few days. I am working very, very hard to stay centered and calm. The thing that keeps me going is the fact that I really do love what I'm doing. I know it's right for me.

It's tough not to let people throw you off balance. Even the people who love you, (and the people you love) will do careless things now and then. I am trying to focus on things are a part of me. My writing, my pots, my books... I am starting to realize that I need to give some weight to lessons about relationships, just as I do my academics.

I think my biggest goal right now is to be the kind of person (someday) who knows, deep down, what is really important in life, and what is worth letting go of.

Choices

2009-11-01T23:15:00.004-05:00

Dear Lord, it is November already.

I have resigned myself to the fact that blogging is going to happen quickly and at odd times if it is to happen at all. This week has been trying: the highs were high, but the lows were terribly low. I hate crying my eyes out in the car, but I did that this week. I also hate having to get up the next morning and present myself with red and puffy eyes.

I love the opportunities I have been given, though. I saw Yo-Yo Ma speak and perform last Monday. I cannot even describe to you how inspiring that was. Maybe I will try in the next few days, but I don't have time now.

Getting to London will be the death of me, but I am sure I will be resurrected once I do get there.

In the meantime, I am learning to make choices. I am starting to think that maybe giving 100% to every single assignment is not wise, or even possible. I am starting to think that learning to let go of some things should be top priority for me. I am starting to realize that tying my sense of self worth to my GPA is inaccurate and (well) bad. I like the classes in which I am not concerned about getting a good grade, but doing my best simply for the sake of the work. Those classes are few, but I treasure them.

I realize that I may have already realized these things and then forgotten them. I think I'm realizing them even harder this time around, though.

I went to my first college house party last night and stayed for a total of 20 minutes.

I am not a sports writer.

I am dead tired. Part of me can't wait for the end of the semester, and part of me is terrified at how fast that will happen.

Goodnight. That is all.

A Cottage in the Woods

2009-10-17T20:21:00.003-04:00

I have a strange love for travel. I don’t just mean going to new and different places, I mean the very act of travel. I enjoy being in transit, the odd limbo of car rides, airport terminals, and trains. Right now I am flying over an arctic landscape of clouds, tinted pink by the morning sun. I feel as if I am flying over an ocean of cotton candy. Straight ahead is the horizon, a hazy band of gold stretching across the point where land and sky must meet, blending the pink and blue. All of this is neatly framed by the tiny airplane window. I am off to Philadelphia, then Manchester, then Holderness. Holderness. It sounds like wilderness; according to my friend, that is about right. If I am lucky, I will also visit Boston and Connecticut. My friend and her mother have also theorized that I am secretly a New Englander at heart. We shall test that.

I am so glad to be getting away, to leave. It feels good to be up here, despite my cramped economy seat, the exhaustion that comes from staying up late and getting up early, and the fact that the bagel I ate this morning is not doing much to satiate my hunger. It is all worth it, just to feel the moment when the plane leaves the ground. I know that part terrifies some people. Noe had to grab my hand when we took off. But I love it, the feeling of somehow magically defeating gravity. Now we ride, tiny people in a tiny plane across a vast and unending sky, buffeted here and there.

***

I wrote that yesterday morning, in transit (obviously). Travel is exhausting, but inspiring and exciting as well. Flying up to New Hampshire has made me more excited about going to London (I am going, it's inevitable now). My appetite has been whetted.

Now I am settled cozily in to my friend's home, a cottage in the foothills in NH. It is very cold here; the air snaps at you when you walk outside, and the leaves are magnificent. If feels so good to be here, I love it already. My new fantasy is to someday (when I am ready to settle down and write my magnum opus) buy a cottage in New England in the woods and write, while a lazy cat dozes in my lap.

In the meantime, homework calls (the life of student never ends, not even on fall break!).

2009-10-15T13:54:00.001-04:00

I am a bad, bad blogger. I realize this, and I will try and increase my output.

But not right now. Right now I have a midterm. Tomorrow, I fly to the frozen hinterlands of New Hampshire!

I'm too lazy for titles today...

2009-09-21T18:24:00.002-04:00

I am unsure what to say. I am writing out of a feeling of obligation. I am also writing because I feel a little overwhelmed. I feel scattered. Perhaps that is only because it is Monday, and I always feel scattered on Monday.

At any rate, I survived my (possible) bout of swine flu. I even turned the harrowing experience into a stunning op-ed piece for the student newspaper. (Stunning may be an exaggeration, but it was a pretty neat little piece of writing, if I may say so myself.)

A few days ago I was planning to write an inspiring blog entry about working with clay and how connected throwing made me feel; connected to the clay, connected to myself. Now I would like to write about how fickle clay is. It could easily be my own lack of skill, but some days are good and some days are bad. Some days, everything falls into place and I make something beautiful. Other days (like this morning) I can't even center the clay no matter how hard I try. This bouncing back and forth is very trying for me. Just when I think I'm starting to get it, I fall back to utter incompetence.

Such is ceramics, I suppose.

I do love writing for the paper, as stressful as it can be. I would do it again. I am even more convinced that I would enjoy writing columns for a living. If only such jobs were more plentiful.

Still no word on my London application. In an act of faith, I am going to apply for my passport as soon as possible anyway.

I think that I am very lucky to the people I have. I don't exactly know how it happened, but I have some really good friends. Also, I have an amazing boyfriend. Usually I don't wax on about him here (well, I try not to) but after sticking it out with me for a year and a half, I think he deserves it.

I can't stop rambling. My head hurts. My nap earlier was entirely ineffective. Tomorrow I have to give a speech for which I am unprepared. Eh.

The pace of things excites me and exhausts me. I don't know if I like it or hate it.

This post has devolved enough. I think I will cut things off now and write some more when I am feeling more lucid and less sleepy.

Oink, oink?

2009-09-02T14:22:00.004-04:00

So. Here I am. In bed. Again.

Remember my last post? Happy, positive, energetic? Well, just put that on hold and revive it next week.

I have swine flu. Maybe. I have the flu, that's for certain. I spent two hours at urgent care Monday night with a high fever. Only, for young, hale and healthy college students like me, they don't test for the H1N1 virus. They just give you TamiFlu and tell you to avoid contact with the outside world for a few days.

So, here I am. An invalid, lounging in my room waiting for my body to stop disagreeing with me.

Yesterday I spent the day in a stupor. Mostly I slept. Today I feel well enough to at least pick up a book (hello class readings!). I might even have the energy to work on my application essay for London. (For the benefit of my Chicago Ant: I am applying for a semester-long study abroad program in London next semester. If I get in, I will be living in Kensington, taking classes though FIE, and I'll have an internship the second half of the semester. I intend to take a course in Shakespeare, and I do hope that I'll be able to go see my ancestral lands. You and Grasshopper and who ever else wants to come should visit me there so we can all go together.)

I have plans for productivity. So far, though, I've been knitting and watching Anthony Bourdain.

I think getting sick was partially the universe telling me to lighten up a little. I know what I said in my last post. But my battle with perfectionism is a one step forward, two steps back kind of thing. I really managed to string myself out over the weekend. Getting sick always reminds me that everything will be okay, even if I'm forced to drop a ball here and there from the juggling act. I just wish I could hold onto that better (or maybe find an easier way to be reminded).

I'd just like to say that, even though I hate being sick, there are some perks. One is that lying in my room all day with the window open (bless you, mother nature, for cooling things off this week) has led to me to discover the joys of open-window eavesdropping. I may be on the top floor, but I can hear with perfect clarity all that is said below my window. It is very entertaining. Invisible boy below my window: I don't know who you are or what you look like. But I heard you bragging to your friend about how you had sex in the bathroom on the second floor of the telecommunications building at three in the morning. I'm not impressed.

That is all for now, faithful (or not-so-faithful) readers. More later.

Welcome back...

2009-08-28T21:03:00.005-04:00

So it ends: the first week of classes. It was a big "hello to Junior Year" this week.

I'm still not sure exactly what happened.

Moving in is a blur. At any rate, my stuff is here and put away. I love my apartment. I love having my own room. It feels like such a luxury after dorm life. I vividly remember getting up for the first day of classes - feeling excited and nervous... I remember walking across campus and looking at all the other wan souls who had a class at 8:30 Monday morning. They all looked a little shocked to be up that early and headed to class.

From that point on the week is a jumbled mix of syllabi, new professors, old faces, grocery shopping, filling out forms, assignments. I hate getting through my first flush of assignments. I just get so nervous and paranoid. I'm worried that over the summer I've somehow lost my ability to write well, to read fast, and to ask the right questions in class. Or, I worry that whatever I had last semester won't be enough this time around. Mostly I stay anxious until I know what the standards for evaluation are, and then I relax.

I feel different this semester, though. Even though my usual anxieties are poking their thorny claws into my thoughts, I feel more confident than I ever have before. More relaxed. Perhaps a little more open to mistakes and discomfort. I know I'll be fine. Better than fine, even.

I realize that now I've finally had time to relax and process things a little bit. Today I made myself eggs for breakfast, puttered around the ceramics studio, and had a wonderful chat with my my favorite professor. I turned in the first draft of my first story for the newspaper, which made me nervous. But I am working on letting that go. Now my biggest problem is resisting the urge to go buy a new dress for myself. Tonight, I think I will go dancing.

It just feels so good to be back here at school. I'm so excited for this semester, and excited for London in the Spring.

Life is good.

Sweet and Sour

2009-07-29T10:49:00.003-04:00

I don't even know where to start. I feel confused. I feel confused because I feel like I should be okay. I should be okay. But I feel horrible. Things have been so good, and yet so frustrating and complicated. I don't know how to handle it. I don't feel like a grown-up, and yet I have all these grown-up problems and complications. Relationships are hard. Have you noticed that? Even if you are madly in love, it doesn't mean that you don't accidentally stomp all over each other sometimes. It doesn't save you from having fights and getting upset. The better the good times are, the harder the tough times become... I suppose that's just life.

I want to go back to the mountains. The air was clear up there. Clear and perfect. I was happy and grateful. The mountains are magic; they knock sense and gratitude back into me. Now I am back in the muddle of daily life and it is so very hard to hold onto that blessed perspective. I had the perfect weekend with my sweetheart, and I had him all to myself. Now I am back to hardly seeing him and arguing over the phone. Now I am back to work that is frustrating, children who are pushing my last nerve. Now I am back to stress over how I'm going to get everything done before I leave for school. I wanted to enjoy that last few weeks of my summer. Was I expecting too much?

I am learning how to compromise, and I am learning how to deal with things day by day. Even when things are hard, I can't imagine giving up. I'll keep fighting for the things that are important to me because... I just don't know what else to do. But by golly is it hard. Sometimes I just want to climb back on top that that mountain and stay there.

What I really want is a fresh start. This summer has been so full of ups and downs I can't even handle it anymore. School is hard and full of ups and downs too. But at least I had free counseling!

The summer sun shone round me

2009-06-30T11:28:00.005-04:00

I am feeling lazy and oh so tired. I am waiting for the last vestiges of infection to leave my body. I'm getting impatient. I just want to feel like a normal person again.

Summer seems to play with my sense of time. Some days fly by and I can't even remember what I did. Some days drag by. Sometimes time seems to stand still. It stands still in those rare moments when I stop trying to fill up every minute. Once and a while I get to lie down and look at the sky, watching the sun fade away and the stars come out. Summer is so rich in the way that it sounds and smells... lying outside reminds me of last summer. How anxious I was!

I still feel anxious, yet for entirely different reasons. I am anxious about money and work. I am anxious about everything that I need to get done. I am so impatient to get back to school. At the same time, I think I have reached a level of contentment here. I am finally settled, I think. Home feels like home, and it feels good to be here. Work is hard, but I am becoming comfortable there too. Last night I spent an hour talking to one of the instructors, a man half my age and from a different country. Tae Kwon Do has the ability to bring a diverse group of people together, and I am grateful for that. I cannot help but feel that my life would be different without the people I have known in Tae Kwon Do; young and old, from America and India and Korea. I am astounded at the connections that can be made, even with language barriers and cultural differences. Even when they pass in and out of my life very quickly, the experience is somehow transformative.

And so the days pass, one after another. Another day another ten cents. I am so bad at being in the moment, but I am working on it.

THE summer sun shone round me,
The folded valley lay
In a stream of sun and odour,
That sultry summer day.

The tall trees stood in the sunlight
As still as still could be,
But the deep grass sighed and rustled
And bowed and beckoned me.

The deep grass moved and whispered
And bowed and brushed my face.
It whispered in the sunshine:
"The winter comes apace."

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Wallowing, The Sequel

2009-06-26T13:40:00.002-04:00

So, thanks to causes beyond my understanding I've managed to get an ear infection. A big, ugly ear infection. I haven't had one of those since I was nine! And they hurt, too. Naturally, I had to start taking the super anti-biotics that seem to be eating away at my stomach lining. And for all I complain about work, I would much rather be there and healthy.... I'm trying hard not to calculate how much money I would have made if I'd been able to go to work these past three days.

Ehhh.

I worry too much. Everyone tells me this. I have much to be grateful for, like the family that puts up with me wallowing on the couch and watching Gilmore Girls all day. Also, the boy who comes right down to see me when I tell him I'm too sick to meet as we'd planned. I'm also grateful for my doctor, who I do like. I'm grateful for TV and knitting. (I want to travel with Anthony Bourdain!) I finally have time to do laundry, so that's good too.

So.

I want to go back to school. And I hate money. Hate it!

Wallowing

2009-06-21T20:18:00.002-04:00

Oh. So, I haven't been over here in an unforgivably long time. I have committed the crime of not writing because I feel so overwhelmed - even though I know that is when I need to write most. Self-discipline has been beyond me, and when I do sit down to write nothing comes out right! Summer has been far from "a breeze." Work has been exhausting and all consuming, yet it still leaves me enough time to worry about the other things I should be doing. I have relatives I want to visit, places I'd like to go, and yet the thought of taking time off work makes my insides freeze up with anxiety. I really need the money. Something I have to keep reminding myself of when I am tired and irritated and desperate to spend more than three consecutive hours with my sweetheart. I am tired of snatching an hour here and an hour there with him after work in a coffee shop or in the middle of a party. I am tired of feeling like I'm hardly even seeing my family because we're all so busy. I am tired of feeling sick and put upon by my co-workers. I am already tired of dealing with large groups of children.

I just keep swimming around in my own negativity. I can't seem to snap out of it, so I am wallowing and waiting around for either
1) things to get better
or
2) for my own perspective to shift.

I am hoping both happen, and soon.

p.s. Homemade cherry pie = love. Happy Dad's day.

Transitioning....

2009-05-08T13:41:00.007-04:00

So, I am home. My world feels chaotic. I have no where to put my stuff, so it sits in piles waiting to be sorted and put away... somewhere. I don't know where anything is, it's all in boxes. The washing machine is broken (you don't even want to know how much dirty laundry I brought home, not realizing this fact). I also can't use my car at the moment because my dad's is broken. My boyfriend is still in Greensboro until next week. My friends have scattered all over the U.S. and I'm still waiting for the old ones to migrate back here. To top it all, I have a VERY long list of doctor's appointments to make (erg).

On the other hand, the family seems as happy to see me and I am to see them (and I am very happy to see them, it's true). I also had time to take a guilt-free nap and to finally re-paint my toenails yesterday. And, in about a week's time I will be headed to the beach. For that, I am grateful.

I managed to come out my sophomore year with all A's.

Things making me happy:

A.R. Rahman:

Making new playlists.
Planning my summer reading, which will include Jhumpa Lahiri, Carlos Ruiz Zafon, and hopefully some David Foster Wallace.

Green Again

2009-04-15T16:24:00.002-04:00

The world is green again. Green as if a balloon of green paint exploded across the city. All the trees have those tiny, bright, bright green baby leaves... They look so fragile, fuzzing up the once-bare branches. Yet those tiny things will be full and broad in a few months. They are not as fragile as they look.

It breaks my heart to see bad things happen to people that I love. It seems my heart has been breaking open all semester. I don't understand why some people have to struggle so much.

All the same, when I watch them come back up again after every hit, I start to understand that they are also not as fragile as they look. That gives me hope.

We are not as fragile as we may look or feel. I can already see in my mind the summer, next year, the year after. Things will be so different, and we will continue to pass in and out of each other's lives as our orbits cross. Part of me is excited and glad. The other part grieves for what has to be left behind.

Right now, though, I would very much like to fall asleep listening to Louis Armstrong.
Alas, papers do not write themselves.

P.S. Yo-Yo Ma is coming to Guilford next year! I am deeply excited.

New Blog! Please Read! (And Comment)

2009-04-07T15:49:00.002-04:00

I have no qualms in directing all of you, loyal readers (whoever you may be) to my latest blog. It's a bit of an experiment, based off of the stuff I'm learning in one of my classes, and I want to see how it goes and what kind of feedback I get. If you would take a gander, I would be most pleased.
So, without further ado: GO HERE NOW.

Thank you.

Romance and Goose Poop

2009-03-27T10:49:00.002-04:00

The rain has returned. March refuses to leave us without another good dousing... The gloom has been hovering for three days, a mix of fog, rain, and mud. Things started out very chilly; the rain came with a sudden drop in temperature that made things even gloomier.

But I like the gloom sometimes. And yesterday I felt the chill start to melt a little. The air is softening up, making the rain less wintry, and more like spring. I do think there is something very romantic about a gentle spring rain, I said to my friend yesterday as we walked across campus. She didn't reply because she was too busy warning me about the goose poop I was about to step in. We then spent the next few minutes discussing the sudden abundance of goose poop that appears when it rains.

Such is life I suppose.

Now I have a weekend in front of me that (for once) does not include a paralyzing amount of homework. I don't understand how or why, but I may have more than the usual amount of free time this weekend. I have no idea what to do with myself. It's very unnerving. All the time my worries about the future and how fast this semester is going by lingers somewhere on the edge of my thoughts. I can't ever seem to reconcile myself to those two things. Which, I now realize, explains why I insist on writing about it all the time. I think that I have a vague hope that by writing about my anxieties I will someday write myself into a kind of peaceful understanding or acceptance... We'll see if that turns out to be a pipe dream or not.

Stories

2009-03-08T22:19:00.003-04:00

It is strange how places can remind of the ways in which life shifts around you - almost without your notice. I am back in my old room, in the place where I used to write so much. I am sitting facing the same wall I used to stare at when starved for inspiration, looking out the windows that are so familiar, listening to the old silence broken by the low burbling song of crickets and frogs in the night. So many things are different and so many things are the same. Both seem to highlight the changes in my life, the changes in me. Some things about me have changed so much; some other things, hardly at all. Every time I come home I am conscious of how deeply familiar everything is, how comfortable and soothing. And yet uncomfortable... I still feel a little like a visitor here. I slide right in to my role at home, but I can't forget that I'll be leaving again.

Right now, though, I am content in the stillness and the solitude that is so abundant here compared to school. I like solitude, it comforts me. Solitude is exactly the thing that is nearly impossible to find living in a dorm, so I am trying to soak up as much as possible while I can.

North Carolina is such an odd place to live sometimes - snow on Monday, nearly eighty degrees and balmy by Friday. Now I can hear the chorus of frogs in the creekbed that tell me it is spring. There was never a sound so full of life as that one. It reminds of springs past. I am both eager for the future and desperate not to let the present moment get away from me. Spring is good for making me wake up a bit, but it also ruins all my focus for school. My academics have been uncommonly hard for me this semester. I can't wait for summer. Yet, I don't want summer to come, I just want this semester to keep going...

It's all very mixing. Like most things. I am realizing more and more how complicated it can be to get close to someone, how scary and new. But, oh, how wonderful and dizzyingly rewarding at the same time.

I am also realizing more and more how stories hold people together - common, everyday stories of The Things That Happened to Us, and Do You Remember the Time When? These kinds of stories hold my family together, they make up my friendships, and they grow with each day, creating layers of meaning and narrative. Slowly, these remembrances create the glue that holds people together... And perhaps it really is as Salman Rushdie said: that freedom means being able to tell your story without anyone telling you what to say or how to say it.

And maybe that is why I keep coming back here to write.

Spring Fever

2009-02-19T19:46:00.002-05:00

Oh, God. Spring fever is setting in already. The weather is still cold yet my fever sets in anyway. It feels too early for me to be unfocused, unsettled, and yearning for vacation.

Then again, perhaps it's not. The point remains: my focus and drive dwindles by the day. My brain is just giving out, giving up, rebelling, insisting on watching youtube and knitting all day.

Eh.

Instead I must summon what energy I have and push through. Quizzes, papers, art projects... I know that deep down somewhere I am passionate about these things. I also know that deadlines help a lot with the focus thing if passion won't suffice. My studies are also a distraction from my mixed feeling about summer at home. I have been so homesick this semester, and vacations sounds divine right now. But will I know how to function at home after living on my own?

I feel so scatterbrained. What point was I making again? Or am I just procrastinating?

I hate these posts. They feel so pointless.

Good news: I may very well be living in an apartment just off campus next semester. This makes me happy.
Bad news: I still haven't seen Coraline.
Good News: I have a significant anniversary tomorrow. Years do fly by, don't they?
Bad News: I keep freaking out about the future.

Lets end on good news: The sun rose this morning and will rise again tomorrow morning. And soon, the weather will be warm.

When Reality Hits

2009-02-11T19:22:00.004-05:00

I am sitting here singing as loud as I can along with my stereo when I should be doing research. There is always something to be doing, but singing really does provide such a good release of emotion... I have been trying to do little things to soothe my soul today. Like singing loudly, and doing laundry (clean laundry is so satisfying), knitting, and wearing sandals because the weather is inexplicably warm enough to do so today...

Foiled expectations can be very hard to deal with. Some aspects of this semester have that ring to them - things are not exactly what I thought or hoped they would be. I remind myself that getting hit in the face with reality is a very good learning experience. I mean, you have to be able to recognize when things are not going as planned and adjust accordingly, right?
It is still painful, though. Some things more so than others. Changing course early on in a research project - not that big of a deal. Realizing that the art class you were so excited about is actually kind of sucky? Slightly harder to adjust to. I can tell you that an Art minor is definitely out for me. Hello, European History. Rocky and changing relationships - even harder to deal with. With my 20th birthday only a few days away, I feel that I need to be mature. I cannot blame immature actions on being, let's say, 16 anymore. No. Problem is, I still don't know what the right to do is. I feel that I should maybe have a few more answers than I do, but I don't. I just want to do right by everybody, including myself. That is not always easy...

Fortunately, a few things are far, far better than I could have ever expected. Some relationships just keep getting stronger and some classes do not disappoint.

Also: I had the opportunity of lifetime last night. I sat about 10 feet away from a stage with Salman Rushdie on it, and listened to him wax philosophical for nearly an hour. It was amazing. He is really funny, did you know that? And he scratches his beard when thinking about what to say. I was enchanted.

Aftermath

2009-02-05T17:53:00.002-05:00

So. Things never run too smoothly for long, do they? Bumps always appear in the road, sometimes deeps cracks, and occasionally yawning chasms with dragons at the bottom...

Perhaps the last one is an exaggeration. I have fallen down no yawning chasms lately. I think I have a tendency to create unrealistic consequences for failing to live up to my unrealistic expectations. Sometimes it takes running into a brick wall to realize that you need a change in thinking. Sometimes it takes an epic crash and burn to see that your emotions are valid, and that, instead of fruitlessly trying to change yourself, something else needs to give.

What am I babbling about? Well, after own my epic crash and burn, after weeks of feeling depressed and overwhelmed and out-of-control, I dropped a class. I, the Dean's List, anal-about-homework-and-grades, devoted, over-achieving student, dropped a class. I still have enough credits to be considered a full-time student, so no worries there. I am still in shock, though. I've never had to drop a class before. Ever. I didn't want to do it. On the other hand, I wanted nothing more than to do it. I made the decision with the support of my adviser, and my parents, and everyone else who loves me. Now, I am exhausted, sick, and tired, left with the aftermath of the burn out.

Sometimes, though, we (certainly I) need a less-than-subtle sign that something has to change... Maybe the important part isn't dropping the class, but knowing when to bend... it's better than stubbornly and blindly digging oneself into a hole, isn't it? Sometimes the signs need to be big, and disruptive, and sucky. That is what I think. These past days have been difficult, but it's easier to deal with hardship when you know it's getting you back out of the hole, instead of taking you deeper in.

Plus, January and February and March generally suck anyway.

Please Insert Clever Title Here

2009-01-21T16:17:00.003-05:00

It's funny how the pace of life just sweeps me up, and I hardly notice the days pass. Occasionally, it does surprise me when I look at the clock and realize the day is near over. Depending on the day, that can cause a little panic because everything seems to take longer than anticipated, doesn't it? There is just no enough time to get it all done.

They (you know, them) always tell you to "get involved" at college. I've made a few stabs at serious extra-curriculars, but nothing seems to work out. I now wonder if it's such a problem that, after I've poured so much energy into my classwork, I just want to chill out.

I hate having to say hard things to people. Hard things to me count as things that I think might disappoint the other person. I just want everyone to be happy... even though honesty is ultimately a better policy. Honest to others, honest to myself. Honest about what makes me spark, what makes me happy, what makes me feel passionate and excited. It might be completely weird that I'm excited by learning rhetoric, or reading British Literature, or all those other things. But I am thinking that those things should come first. It's just difficult in practice to put what I want above what others might ask of me. And that is not even getting into how much I worry about what other people think of me. (Yikes.) What surprises me most, though, is when people see things in me that I don't always see. Like beauty, for instance. Or smarts. Or strength. That discrepancy is occasionally thrown in my face, and it still confuses me. (Note: I am not compliment fishing. I really think that everyone experiences some form of this feeling...)

So. Looking back on all that, I'm not sure that any of it made sense. My thoughts are more than a little scattered. However, there they are. I have nothing better at the moment. Except this: go read some Edmund Burke out loud to your friends. It will have everyone laughing out loud. Trust me.

Back In Black (sort of)

2009-01-11T15:59:00.003-05:00

So, I am back. It feels a little strange to settle back in... the campus feels so familiar and so new at the same time. I can hear people moving in the hallway, and there is a faint strain of piano coming from the lounge downstairs. I can name a few people who might be down there, striking away at the old thing. It is very interesting to come back and see all the familiar faces after a month home on the farm. I am oddly lonely, as my roommate is not back yet. End of last semester, all I could think about was being alone. Now this room feels too quiet. I am even considering turning on the TV for company. I am going to try and enjoy my homework-free evening for the next, oh, four months or so. Now that I am finally here, though, I am raring to go. I am so excited about my classes this semester. There is a kind of expectancy in the air, we are all waiting for things to get rolling. I, for one, have a very good feeling about the next few months. Very good.

A feeling I will try to hold onto when I get up for my early class tomorrow morning...

Shifting

2009-01-09T13:24:00.002-05:00

I should be packing. It is once again time to gather all my things and move... I am getting used to it, I think, this regular shifting of location and the stuff that shifts with me. Thanks to Christmas I will being going back to school with a few new books, clothes, and a new set of cookware. (I am VERY excited about not having to beg and borrow when I feel like doing a little cooking in the dorm kitchen, I must say.) My life seems to be contained in the amount of stuff that fills up my half of the room...

These transitions are always unsettling to me. Switching lives, switching roles. When I think about it, my life seems to be contained more in my relationships than my things... daughter, sister, friend, sweetheart, student, teacher. It can take a little time to shift between those, I find. I am both anxious and excited for this semester. I bought myself a new journal today, with a fine embossed leather cover. Quite unusual for me, because I have always felt intimidated by fine journals. This one feels right, though. I am anxious to start in on it. It is good to start a new year and a new semester with a new journal, don't you think?

Oh. I should be packing. It is hard, because it is reminding me of the friends I've just said goodbye to for another semester, and another friend who won't be coming back to Guilford... it is hard. However, I have much to look forward to as well.

At any rate, come Sunday I will be back at school no matter how I feel about it. So, that is that.

The Road Goes Ever On and On

2008-12-31T12:25:00.005-05:00

On the last day of the year, I am compelled to read through my blog posts from the year that is coming to a close. I can't help it. I guess I feel that this blog is, if nothing else, a record for myself... a mark left to remind me of what I thought and felt, of the slow rotation of the seasons, of the changes in my life. It is good, when I feel that the year has gone by too quickly to remind myself of how much I managed to fit into that year. If I can't make time slow down, then I may as well fill it up to the brim with living...
I think I did that this year. I worked hard, and I made some leaps. Last January I was overwhelmed and anxious. I seem to enter every new year with a certain amount of anxiety. At least I have since about fourteen or so. I always wonder if I will be enough, if I will be able to take the challenges in front of me. I wanted some things so badly and wasn't really sure they would happen. They did. They did in measures I did not expect. I found a lot of love in a lot of places this year. I found a sweetheart (or maybe he found me) who, for whatever reason, still hangs around me. I found a school, a school that I love dearly, a school that fits just right. I found out once again how much my family loves me, enough to let me go away. I found new friendships, friendships that helped me though a scary first semester. I found an increased sense of passion and love for what I am studying. I am hopelessly and irretrievably an English major at this point. It was a full year, a challenging year.
However, I am learning that to be challenged is the only way to live... I am entering this new year with less anxiety than usual. Partly because so much good has come to me, and I have so much to look forward to. With that I have grown a nagging fear of losing what I have gained. Are things too good? I don't know. What I do know, and what keeps me going, is that whatever comes, whatever happens, I will deal with it. I will learn, just as I have in the past. I think that is what I have learned this past year. I do not expect everything to be easy, but that is a good thing. I have decided that I am going to live what I have and love it while I have it. What else is there to do?

Life rolls on and I am just trying to keep up. It is my wish that each of you has had a full year, brimming up with all that living. It is also my wish that next year is full up too, good and bad, come what may. We will take it all as it comes.

Happy New Year.

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

- J.R.R. Tolkien

Christmas?

2008-12-18T22:42:00.005-05:00

So. Christmas is a mere week away. This sudden awareness shocked me, sent me into a veritable tizzy. Christmas, really? Usually I have so much time to prepare mentally, usually the expectation grows as the weeks draw towards the holiday. This year, however, I have been monumentally distracted. So much so that Christmas has sprung itself upon me without warning.

It is hard not to be unnerved.

You see, if Christmas is coming, then so is the New Year... that one, arbitrary day that sends me into weeks of retroflection. I will not go there quite yet, though. No, right now I am trying to hold onto my Christmas before it's over and done with.

I have always tried to make Christmas a time apart, ever since I started to get older and Christmas started to lose some of it's innocence (you know you're growing up when you suddenly realize that Santa doesn't exist and all along it's been your father leaving those presents under the tree). Still, I try. I try not to get distracted, I try to pay attention to those things I hold dear. I try to slow down just a little. I don't want Christmas to morph into that stressful thing that only needs to be dealt with so our lives can resume along normal patterns. I want it to stay at least a little bit magical.

That becomes more difficult this year, I think. It is good to be home. I needed to come home and see the little smile my mother gives me when I wander into the kitchen. I needed to sit and talk with the people I've missed. I needed to hear my father make yet another lame Christmas joke. I really needed to sleep in... However, this year has been one of such massive shifts that I still feel dizzy and discombobulated. Sometimes I don't know how to act, or what to think. The dust, it seems, is still settling on a lot of things. This is also my first Christmas after moving out (for the most part). I dream of the way to used to be, only when I come home it feel like trying to squeeze myself back into a life that doesn't fit anymore. I sleep in a room that isn't mine anymore, and I realize that my family has kept moving and will keep moving whether or not I am there. Just as I've kept moving. And I will spend the next couple of years bouncing back and forth between the two. School to home, home to school. I feel displaced, as if I'm in some kind of limbo. Most days, I don't think about it. Most days, my sense of identity and passion for what I'm doing is enough to make me feel stable. In some ways realizing this makes me incredibly sad, and in other ways, incredibly excited and hopeful...

However, I think Christmas might soothe rather than compound these feelings. That is what I am trying for, anyway. I am trying to relax, and enjoy what I have. Which is a lot, if I think about it. Really, I am a very lucky girl.

Looking Back

2008-11-16T16:35:00.003-05:00

My life is so very different from a year ago. Yet, I was thinking today that there are some things that do not seem to change very much. I was reading a post of mine from nearly a year ago and thinking about how much of what I wrote still applies to me... What started me off on that was the sky. Today, the sky had a very wintry quality, hard and clear with the sharp outlines of the trees against the pale blue. I wanted to write about how much I love the winter sky, and I little bell in the back of my mind told me that was something I had written about before. It turns out I had.

As I was reading that, however, I found myself recognizing much more than the bit about the sky. I found that the feelings of that post are feeling that come around every year at this time. Once again I find myself yearning for my old friends, only this year I am the migratory bird, going back home... Yet, I know when I fly back I am going to miss all the birds here. I am starting to yearn for the peace I try to continue to conjure during the holidays. And that quote from Mr. Rilke... oh my. It seems even more relevant now than it did before.

Such are my backward thoughts. And now, my dear readers, I must return to what I should I am supposed to be doing.

oh, NOVEMBER

2008-11-12T19:22:00.002-05:00

I feel raw and exposed, as if my skin has been peeled back to show every nerve. I cannot seem to get this ache in my back and shoulders to go away. I want to be done, to have these demands taken away. I want the members of my presentation group to stop standing me up every time we agree to meet. I have volleyed tonight between crying, and laughing, and sitting in a chair while I listen to people tell me about what they did with their lives, and how I should definitely be thinking about what I want to do with my life, and there are SO many OPTIONS for an English major like me.

I believe, like those people I listened to tonight, in the power of words, and the power of what happens in classroom. I understand that my path can, and probably will be, very twisted. However, I cannot help but feel overwhelmed thinking that far ahead. I just don't know what I want to do... And I don't want to think about it right now. I can barely handle thinking ahead to next week.

My friends give my great joy, however. It makes me feel good when Jenni comes in and asks about my day, and then kindly gets me tissues. I like dancing to Korean pop music in front of the library with Kacey. I smile every time Alice comes in and flops on my bed, and asks if I want to go out on a date tonight. Oh, I am getting by, Getting by, getting by. November is always a challenge anyway. It felt like November today. It was cold and sharp, and the sky couldn't quite decide what it wanted to do. Cloudy? Clear? Who knows.

And that is all I have to say about that.

***

Alice: Ivy, are you blogging?
Me: Yes.
Alice: Can you blog about my butt?

Yes We Can

2008-11-05T00:30:00.002-05:00

I am at a loss for words. My throat is hurts from screaming and chanting. I was just part of a giant mob of students, something that felt like the whole student body, as we marched across campus and into the street. We invaded the Harris Teeter parking lot. We stopped traffic. We made so much noise... screaming and chanting and drumming and hugging. I can tell you this: Guilford is VERY excited over our man Obama right now. There will be no sleep tonight.

I am just so grateful to have been a part of this. I didn't get pictures, but this moment is something I will always remember. I feel redeemed. Yes, times have been hard. But this gives me back just a little faith, I think... Cynicism seems completely out of place right now. Yes. I am very happy.

And I am so happy to have a president I actually enjoy listening to.

Onion Layers

2008-11-03T22:36:00.003-05:00

I suppose I am going down to one post a month. That is unfortunate. It's not intentional. It's only that, as a my studies pile up, I feel guilty writing anything that will not get turned in and graded.
I forget, you see, that I need to be able to write things, now and then at least, that will not be graded. Something for which there is no deadline, no pressure, and perhaps not even any logic.

I am so tired today. I am so afraid of going out of my depth, so afraid that I will fail, so afraid of making the wrong decision. I want to be left alone, for people to stop asking me to do things.
But I know that these pains are only growing pains. I am learning so much, about school and friends and writing and..... and, and, and. I don't feel like a grown up, but I am learning to act like one. I think. At any rate, I am becoming more and more familiar with the word "responsibility."

There anxiety is in the air... I feel a low, intense anxiety that has been mounting over the election. I couldn't breath for a minute today when I realized how soon judgment would finally be passed on who will be the next president. I never felt this emotionally or intellectually invested in an election before. Registration has also added another layer of stressful frenzy as we all try and decide what to take, and compete to get into classes of limited capacity. Not only that, this is crunch time. The tough last push of the semester for all of us, students and teachers I think.

Today I watched a group of children from my window (as some children do inexplicably show up on campus now and then). They were with a man who was helping then rake a fantastic leaf pile right in front of my dorm. Through the open window I could hear their shouts of delight and exuberance, and the rustle of leaves. One little boy was practically dancing around the leaf pile in his excitement. I was absolutely mesmerized by this scene, sitting at my desk where I had been trying to cram in last minute facts for my Biology test. More than anything I wanted to be down there too, laughing and demanding for my turn to jump. I was jealous of their abandon, and the intensity with which they loved that leaf pile. It was, for that moment, everything to them.

I do not have very many moments anymore that are simple and focused. I get them, little moments of pleasure when I am joking with a friend, or perhaps cooking a meal for myself here and there. But layers of complexity generally permeate my life these days. It feels like a gift and a curse, sometimes. There is such a burden, sometimes, in seeing so many different sides to things, and in feeling so many different emotions. However, I find there are some subliminal moments in realizing the complexity of something. The light bulb goes off, and I realize there is so much more to all this than I realize. Complexity keeps things interesting, keeps me on my toes. I think that is really what I am learning, and I think that is what is really so painful. When I peel back one layer to see what is underneath, another one awaits. Just like an onion. And yes, sometimes it makes me cry. At this point, though, I can't stop.

Eternal Afternoon

2008-10-14T22:36:00.004-04:00

There are afternoons when time seems to stand still. Perhaps, rather, there are afternoons where time does not seem to matter. Seeing the sun through dying leaves of gold and green, the branches perfectly outlined against the deep blue of an autumn sky... that is when the whole world seems to be moving past you. It has been more unsettling that I thought, coming home. However, the chance to sit quietly outside in good, sweet company for an afternoon was worth every other minute of the past few days.

It feels good to slow down now and then, just because time runs by so fast. I believe in hard work, I do. I have been working harder lately than I have in a long time. Space to breathe, though, is essential. Thank goodness for fall break. It has given me time to rest up, pull myself together, and get my dry cleaning done.

Funny thing is that home isn't quite what I thought. No; it isn't quite what I remember. It is still home for certain, and it feels good to see my family. Things have changed, though. Of course. I am realizing that I will never live here the way I did before. I'll always have one foot outside the door. That has been the trajectory of my life these past years, but it does feel a bit odd to experience it for the first time. I woke up in my childhood bedroom after the first night back and thought to myself, "This isn't really my room anymore. And this is how it's going to be from now on..."

So, time goes on, quite unaffected by my attempts to assimilate what's happening. I only know that I treasure those moments that seem to make time recede into the background. A warm fall afternoon will do that without fail.

So please, go sit out under a tree if you can.

Fall...

2008-10-02T19:18:00.003-04:00

I think I can safely declare that the autumnal chill in the air has truly set in. It feels good. I love fall, I really do. I takes me by surprise every year. Then again, so does spring. I suppose the changing of the season is something that wakes you up a bit, makes you pay attention.
Other things I love:

My professors. Today I got an assignment back with the comment, "You rock like a very rocking thing." That made me laugh.

My guitar. I'm really no good, but when I sit by myself and play, I start to breathe differently, deeper, more relaxed. I need that.

Capoeira. Probably one of the most pretty martial arts around. Hopefully I'll be able to learn enough so that I look nice doing it too.

Being an English major. Seriously. I love it. Even when it's really, really hard. I am realizing that in includes all the things I love: reading, writing, AND arguing.

I'm pushing myself further than I ever have before. Yet, somehow, every time I think I can't go on, I manage. Perhaps it turns out that I am more capable than I thought. Often, a reprieve is granted. So. Life goes on.

(I still can't wait for fall break!)

Fall?

2008-09-19T14:38:00.004-04:00

There is a wonderful sweetness about the first crisping days of fall. Waking up to feel that cool edge in the air feels like waking up for the first time in years, free from the sleepy, dragging haze of humidity that pervades the summer. Everything seems clearer, sharper. The sky seems bluer. I love fall with all my soul. It makes me feel peaceful even when I'm trudging across campus with my five pound Biology textbook stuffed into my backpack. I'm not sure yet that I trust this sudden change in the air - I feel certain that it is a teasing trick of mother nature, something she will take back soon. Return us to summer to wait a few more long, aching weeks. Oh, but what sheer pleasure it is to feel. I am already anticipating the leaves dressing themselves up in their fall best... such vibrant death. Perhaps that is another thing I like about fall; the beauty is wistful and slightly mournful, yet it is such a rich season. I like living in that paradox.

I realized today that I know I am headlong back into school when the essentials of my life seem to be contained within my backpack and it starts to feel like another limb. My friend down the hall commented the other night that whenever she comes into my room I have a Word document open. "That is because Word documents are my life right now," I said to her.

It's okay. If I really hated it, I wouldn't be here.

Word documents are not truly the end all be all of my existence. There is much more to be said. I will say that I love professors. I love being around them, they're all so smart and interesting, and (here at this little school of mine,) they are always around. I will also say that there are moments, here and there, when I get to catch a breath. Mostly it feels like I don't have a moment to spare, but then there will be a small, blessed space of free time. They seem even sweeter because they are so rare, and because I work so hard for them.

Now, back to my Word document.

I Saw God On A Mountain

2008-09-15T23:53:00.003-04:00

I think I left a little bit of my heart there, up in those mountains. This past Saturday, on the whim of a new friend, we took off for the Blue Ridge mountains. I love North Carolina so much; I love that at almost any time you can pick up and head over to the mountains or the ocean. At any rate, she and I got delightfully lost along the way, and ended up winding our way through the mountains. We ended up at last on the top of Grandfather Mountain, sweaty and tired but triumphant.
As I stood on that peak I was exhausted and much more afraid of heights than I formerly realized. Yet, through the fear pounding in my chest there was a sense of absolute awe. Funny, isn't it, how often those two go together? It makes me think of God; fear and awe has been mankind's reaction to God for time immemorial. It made my heart hurt to look at those views, they were just that beautiful. It is good to have something like that strike you to the soul once and a while, and I was struck. It was so high, so beyond all that I had been struggling with, and the air was so clean. And what better a place to find God than on a mountain?

Now I am back down on the Piedmont, back on the flat land, back among the muddle and the mundane. I feel as if I am trying much harder to balance down here than I was up on that mountain peak. I am learning, bit by bit. Some hard choices were made, and clouds blew over. However, there still never seems to be enough hours in the day. I miss that mountain more that I thought I could, yet I know I cannot stay there. There is so much down here: good, bad, and in between. But this is where things happen, down here things move and breathe. This is where life happens. As painful as it can be to be in the middle of so much living and breathing and laughing and crying and learning... Well, I know God is down here too, somewhere.

I saw God on a mountain
Tearing at the sky,
I saw God on a mountain
With tears in his eyes.
He said Son, I used to know
Where I put things,
I used to know.
I could have shown all the beauty in the world,
But I need you to show me.
-Ben Sollee

Rainstorms Revisited

2008-09-11T17:09:00.002-04:00

I thought that I was finished with that last topic: rainstorms. I had covered it, learned from it, moved on. Now I find myself revisiting those storms, perhaps even more painfully this time.

The view from my window is clouded. The winding brick walkways are dark, shiny and wet. The trees hover mournfully under the damp sky. I want to go to bed, I want to go home, I want to feel back in control. The past few days I have been careening this way and that, making mistakes, falling behind, breaking down. The downpour has seeped its way into my life, the floodgates crashing open leaving me floundering under the pressure. There is so much to do, so many things to remember. And that's just classes. The there are the people; people everywhere, always doing something, wanting something, telling you something. It is hard to separate yourself from all those people. It's even harder to let go of the "shoulds." My mother, my reliable source of practical wisdom, pointed out that I have too many "shoulds." I know she is right. Yet, being me, I turn that into another should.

I have the vague idea that I am in the middle of one giant, painful learning curve. I also have the vague idea that this is good for me. I just want to feel less crazy. That's all.

I have no neat conclusions today. No good note to wrap up with. Today, however, I received a long hug from a complete stranger. It actually made me feel a little better. I think we should have more hugs.

Thoughts On Rainstorms

2008-08-28T19:00:00.005-04:00

I do know where rain comes from. I understand the the two-day downpour we were subjected to started perhaps with mere changes of temperatures out on the ocean, a clash of winds that end up spinning themselves together and moving across the water and towards land according to the sheer whim of mother nature. There was no intent behind the rain, it was totally indifferent to where it was dumped. All the same, it is hard sometimes not to feel that God must be trying to wipe us all out again, no matter what promises were made. it rained and it rained so much I could hardly believe it. It felt endless and damp, very damp, no matter where you went.
And yet, rain always clears eventually. Storm clouds cannot linger indefinitely. We were graced once again by the return of the sun this afternoon, and the blanket of humidity has rolled back over us. I like rain, but the most reassuring part of a rainstorm is when it finally clears.

I believe that this applies to both physical and metaphorical storms. I strikes me how sometimes both of them intersect, for today I feel as if more than one kind of cloud has been blown away. It is so very reassuring, particularly because the good weather never lasts. So, it is good to know that the bad weather never lasts either. It is very easy to get overwhelmed, and the words "responsibility," and "time management," and "homework" keep swimming 'round my head. There are plenty of things to pull you in so many different directions here, which is perhaps the difficulty of this much freedom and opportunity. One has to keep in mind that sleeping and eating are necessary to keep functioning. Balance is a very precious thing that I am chasing down, trying to stay sane... I want to make the most of this, not to let time slip away between the lists, and the meetings, and assignments. I want to know people, to sit around on the grass, learn how to play guitar, and write, write, write, not for any assignment but because I want to. It is a delicate balancing act, but I have always been afraid of falling off the tightrope wire. Sometimes I wonder if it would be as bad as I fear...

I am listening to the Shins for the first time in months and it is bringing up such visceral memories of last year. The memories, (vivid snippets of the places I used to go, the people I used to see, the way I used to feel) are so strong it makes me regard with wonder how I got from there to here. The past still seems so present and near, how can I have moved along so quickly? How can things be so different than they were? I think that I am also realizing in what ways I am different, and the same, and how much growing up I still have left to do.

However philosophical and reminiscent I get, though, things still happen one day at a time. One day at a time.