*An albino cockroach!! Now, I have a SERIOUS aversion to cockroaches, and I even get a little faint when I have to sweep up the dead ones in my condo. The fact that they are the size of a newborn kitten and have eyes that totally track your every move does not seem to help matters much. However....an albino cockroach!! What if it has some sort of sacred powers? I thought about picking it up from the sidewalk and getting a little gilded cage for it and giving it offerings each day (I even had a little name picked out for it and everything). But then it stared at me with its pink eyes and I realized that albino creatures do not belong in cages.
*It is raining on exactly half of the property right now. It's like something out of a cartoon. I just went outside and walked in and out of the rain. The grass is sopping wet while the pavement is bone dry. Weird.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Poetry by Rumi
Rumi has played a very significant role in my life for quite some time now. I just wanted to share a couple of his poems, as they most definitely speak to this moment in my life.
These poems were found at this website, but you can also find them in Rumi's books.
******************************
THE GUEST HOUSE
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(What Rumi DOESN'T mention here is that if you don't let these things in, they decide to bang and bang and bang on your door and just wreak total havoc. Also, well, sometimes they can become freeloaders and ask for more and more tea. That's when you gotta kick 'em out)
*******************************************************
NOT HERE
There's courage involved if you want
to become truth. There is a broken-
open place in a lover. Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp
compassion in this group? What's the
use of old and frozen thought? I want
a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.
We alchemists look for talent that
can heat up and change. Lukewarm
won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough getting by? Not here.
*****************************************************
(...and for all you sweethearts out there, this beautiful gem):
When I am with you, we stay up all night,
When you're not here, I can't get to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.
These poems were found at this website, but you can also find them in Rumi's books.
******************************
THE GUEST HOUSE
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(What Rumi DOESN'T mention here is that if you don't let these things in, they decide to bang and bang and bang on your door and just wreak total havoc. Also, well, sometimes they can become freeloaders and ask for more and more tea. That's when you gotta kick 'em out)
*******************************************************
NOT HERE
There's courage involved if you want
to become truth. There is a broken-
open place in a lover. Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp
compassion in this group? What's the
use of old and frozen thought? I want
a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.
We alchemists look for talent that
can heat up and change. Lukewarm
won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough getting by? Not here.
*****************************************************
(...and for all you sweethearts out there, this beautiful gem):
When I am with you, we stay up all night,
When you're not here, I can't get to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
On Solitude
It's certainly been no secret on this blog that I've had my share of ups and downs here. Bangkok, in spite of its enormity and energy and chaos and large amounts of expats living here, can be a surprisingly lonely place. I think the life of an expat can be surprisingly lonely: friendships shift, people come and go, everything feels like it is in a constant state of flux. I spend a lot of time alone. The fact that I don't really have coworkers makes this even worse; on days like today, when my employers are not here, I can go the entire day without having a conversation with anyone. And while I am a girl who DEFINITELY needs her alone time, too much of it drives me a little bit batty. I think, though, that there is a lot to learn from solitude.
On Monday, my day off, I slept late, bought some new bags (omg...they are soooo cute), ate some warm cherry crumble with vanilla sauce, spent two hours in a used bookstore/cafe, visited an art gallery, read, and saw the new Indiana Jones movie (and, um, welcome back, Indy!!!!!!). And while this most definitely has the makings of the Most Dorktastic Day known to man, it was like some sort of lightening rod. Things became much more clear.
I bought books* that serve the purpose of being catalysts for expansion. I want to learn Buddhist meditation, so I bought a book on that. I want to learn more about the exploitation of developing nations and the dilution of cultural identities as the world becomes increasingly more branded, thereby transforming the idea of the "global village" into a sort of homogenized consumerism that is powered by increasingly manipulative marketing tactics. Y'know....The Global Village! Brought to you by McDonald's! Because we all have heart attacks in the same language....So, um, I bought a book on that. I also picked up this little gem, and a whole bunch of other good stuff. So, there I was with my mammoth pile of books and I started diving into each of them right there in the store, perched on my little padded stool and sneezing from the dust and mildew. And, yes, I was alone. And, yes, I was doing things that I would normally prefer to do with friends or Peter. But it was so nice just sitting there, reading, with nothing else to worry about.
In Asia there is a much greater appreciation for the impermanence of things than we have in the West. The West is the land of reinforced steel. We want plaques and stars in sidewalks and monuments to our glory and billion dollar houses and faces that never wrinkle. We want to prove to the world that WE WERE HERE and we want parts of ourselves to last forever. WE want to last forever. And, hey, I'm not saying that they DON'T build monuments or buy anti-wrinkle cream or are anti-immortality in Asia. I'm just saying that, whether it's due to the Buddhist beliefs, or due to the fact that age is revered and respected (thereby lessening the fear of it), there is a greater acceptance of the impermanent here. Things change, things decay, people age, living things die. Even death is impermanent.
And so I'm learning to let the loneliness fall through my fingers. To let the joy fall through my fingers. To let the frustration and the mosquito bites and the happiness and the quiet fall through my fingers. It's taken me a year to get to this place, but I finally realize that it's time to focus inward, to be contemplative, and to be HERE. It's time to look at the red flowers that are blooming in the treetops as the Skytrain whizzes by. It's time to stop looking at friends' Facebook pictures and wishing I were back in the States partying along with them (as my friend R. said to me at dinner the other night, "Facebook is the devil when you're overseas and feeling lonely." Hell yes.). There have been plenty of amazing times with friends, plenty of party pictures (some more flattering than others....), and there will be many more. I feel the love of many friends and family so strongly right now, which gives me tremendous strength. It won't be much longer until I'm raising a family and changing diapers and cleaning up projectile baby vomit and surviving on four hours of sleep a night and trying to somehow find time to have a career in there and I will long for the days when I could sleep in, spend hours in a bookstore, or linger over a photograph in an art gallery, listening to nothing but the sound of my own silence.
So....Solitude, Silence, pull up a chair and I'll buy you each a shot of whiskey. You have a lot to tell me**.
*I realize that talking about the books I bought was a tad bit off topic, but I wanted to squeeze that in there because I *highly* recommend these books and thought that other people might find them interesting!
**Hmmm...it appears that I've written about this stuff before. I guess the difference is that now I'm ACTUALLY learning what I'm supposed to learn, and I ACTUALLY see the larger picture in all of this, instead of just SAYING that there are things I'm supposed to learn. Sweet!!
On Monday, my day off, I slept late, bought some new bags (omg...they are soooo cute), ate some warm cherry crumble with vanilla sauce, spent two hours in a used bookstore/cafe, visited an art gallery, read, and saw the new Indiana Jones movie (and, um, welcome back, Indy!!!!!!). And while this most definitely has the makings of the Most Dorktastic Day known to man, it was like some sort of lightening rod. Things became much more clear.
I bought books* that serve the purpose of being catalysts for expansion. I want to learn Buddhist meditation, so I bought a book on that. I want to learn more about the exploitation of developing nations and the dilution of cultural identities as the world becomes increasingly more branded, thereby transforming the idea of the "global village" into a sort of homogenized consumerism that is powered by increasingly manipulative marketing tactics. Y'know....The Global Village! Brought to you by McDonald's! Because we all have heart attacks in the same language....So, um, I bought a book on that. I also picked up this little gem, and a whole bunch of other good stuff. So, there I was with my mammoth pile of books and I started diving into each of them right there in the store, perched on my little padded stool and sneezing from the dust and mildew. And, yes, I was alone. And, yes, I was doing things that I would normally prefer to do with friends or Peter. But it was so nice just sitting there, reading, with nothing else to worry about.
In Asia there is a much greater appreciation for the impermanence of things than we have in the West. The West is the land of reinforced steel. We want plaques and stars in sidewalks and monuments to our glory and billion dollar houses and faces that never wrinkle. We want to prove to the world that WE WERE HERE and we want parts of ourselves to last forever. WE want to last forever. And, hey, I'm not saying that they DON'T build monuments or buy anti-wrinkle cream or are anti-immortality in Asia. I'm just saying that, whether it's due to the Buddhist beliefs, or due to the fact that age is revered and respected (thereby lessening the fear of it), there is a greater acceptance of the impermanent here. Things change, things decay, people age, living things die. Even death is impermanent.
And so I'm learning to let the loneliness fall through my fingers. To let the joy fall through my fingers. To let the frustration and the mosquito bites and the happiness and the quiet fall through my fingers. It's taken me a year to get to this place, but I finally realize that it's time to focus inward, to be contemplative, and to be HERE. It's time to look at the red flowers that are blooming in the treetops as the Skytrain whizzes by. It's time to stop looking at friends' Facebook pictures and wishing I were back in the States partying along with them (as my friend R. said to me at dinner the other night, "Facebook is the devil when you're overseas and feeling lonely." Hell yes.). There have been plenty of amazing times with friends, plenty of party pictures (some more flattering than others....), and there will be many more. I feel the love of many friends and family so strongly right now, which gives me tremendous strength. It won't be much longer until I'm raising a family and changing diapers and cleaning up projectile baby vomit and surviving on four hours of sleep a night and trying to somehow find time to have a career in there and I will long for the days when I could sleep in, spend hours in a bookstore, or linger over a photograph in an art gallery, listening to nothing but the sound of my own silence.
So....Solitude, Silence, pull up a chair and I'll buy you each a shot of whiskey. You have a lot to tell me**.
*I realize that talking about the books I bought was a tad bit off topic, but I wanted to squeeze that in there because I *highly* recommend these books and thought that other people might find them interesting!
**Hmmm...it appears that I've written about this stuff before. I guess the difference is that now I'm ACTUALLY learning what I'm supposed to learn, and I ACTUALLY see the larger picture in all of this, instead of just SAYING that there are things I'm supposed to learn. Sweet!!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Creepy Bear
So my employers bought this bear to put in the entryway of our school. Now, is it just me, or is there something not quite right about this guy? He's got the crazy eyes and his head is all wonky. Although I usually try to run right past him, the other day I decided to take a look at what the ribbon around his neck says:
My love is different from other
Mine is real one!
Hold me now! Touch me now!
Yeesh. Not only is his English not that good, but homebear is a little zealous about being touched.
So I think the children will just need to stay at least three feet away. At all times. I'd put him in the basement, but I'm afraid he might find a way to hunt me down and kill me in my sleep.
And, um, this is what life is like when you live it with an overactive imagination.
Friday, May 23, 2008
500 gold stars and maybe a new puppy......
.....if you can spot where I added a comma that was desperately needed. Yes, we've been over this: I make stupid mistakes with commas and semicolons. I also, as a rule, tend to not proofread very much on this here blog. However, this lack of comma was driving me nuts.
Uff da......I took some NyQuil last night so that I could sleep through whatever cold I've developed, and I'm kinda drugged today as a result. I cannot muster up the energy to be reflective (or to string two thoughts together), so I'll just leave you with this:
It's a beautiful day in Thailand, and the grass around my school is sooooo green. The sun is so strong that it bleaches the grass in the areas where the shadows of the trees leave gaps, making the color of the grass uneven, which is only noticeable after the sun has gone down. There are butterflies flit-flitting all over the small bursts of blossoms. There is a lovely breeze. The flowers on the other side of the pond are now twice as tall as me, and their blossoms are a deep, strong pink. Their leaves are the size of my torso. Like something a dinosaur might have snacked on. It might be the kind of day where I walk barefoot in the grass and feel happy to be alive. I wish you could be here to see this.
Uff da......I took some NyQuil last night so that I could sleep through whatever cold I've developed, and I'm kinda drugged today as a result. I cannot muster up the energy to be reflective (or to string two thoughts together), so I'll just leave you with this:
It's a beautiful day in Thailand, and the grass around my school is sooooo green. The sun is so strong that it bleaches the grass in the areas where the shadows of the trees leave gaps, making the color of the grass uneven, which is only noticeable after the sun has gone down. There are butterflies flit-flitting all over the small bursts of blossoms. There is a lovely breeze. The flowers on the other side of the pond are now twice as tall as me, and their blossoms are a deep, strong pink. Their leaves are the size of my torso. Like something a dinosaur might have snacked on. It might be the kind of day where I walk barefoot in the grass and feel happy to be alive. I wish you could be here to see this.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Traffic Taxi
I'm sitting in a taxi that is stuck in traffic, and the lights around me look greasy and ethereal in the rain. The rain has been constant--heavy, oppressive, blinding, pouring until you are gasping for air. Gulping oxygen. Feeling the slight grip of panic around your lungs. But it's a warm rain, and it smells a little like sweet smoke. Like an offering. And rain always means that the traffic is bad. And the stillness of the traffic is making things start to bubble up inside of me and so I exhale them out. The driver smiles at me in the rearview mirror. His English is quite good, as he worked as a mechanic on an Air Force base near Pattaya during the Vietnam War. "Thai people, we are very patient," he says as he gestures to the metallic blockage that is spread out before us like a string of thick beads. "We just smile because traffic is so bad. But you can't get angry."
I smile. I'm intrigued. "How do you avoid getting angry?"
"Well, you can't get angry at traffic because you ARE traffic."
I look around me. I see taxis, and open air buses, and motorized fruit stalls with the skins of fruits catching the light and blinking, breathing, eerily full of motion. I see motorcycles with riders whose helmets are like the tips of soaked matchsticks in the rain, balancing on top of thin bodies. They are all traffic. I see chauffeur-driven vans whose dark windows swirl like liquid onyx in the rain, barely masking the flicker of a TV screen inside. I see a girl in a car next to me talking on her mobile. She lets out an enormous laugh--mouth fully open, teeth bared in joy--before remembering herself and putting her hand in front of her mouth. Her fingernails are long and painted, her wrist bends like an orchid. The rain comes harder now, and I can't make her out for much longer.
In the rain, in the traffic, we are radiating light, exhaling smog, and blurring blurring blurring.
The rain inhales for a moment, slowing to a trickle, adjusting itself for its next torrent. There is a brief moment before the light turns green. Everyone pauses, leaning, waiting, anticipating without the fever of hurry. And then, one by one, heads that have been sitting still, heads that have cupped calm like bony goblets, heads that have been watching without seeing, turn. Our heads turn to see an elephant lumbering along the side of the street, the skin on its trunk pink and speckled with age, white ink spelling sacred words on each of its legs, a mahout on its neck steering with his toes, a CD dangling from its tail. Swaying in its awkwardness, its sacredness, its cruel urban status. Its head is lowered against the rain and its trunk finds a railing, finds a sign, finds a car's mirror, finds a fire hydrant. The taxi driver and I find each other's eyes for a sympathetic blink before looking once again at the elephant.
It is traffic.
I smile. I'm intrigued. "How do you avoid getting angry?"
"Well, you can't get angry at traffic because you ARE traffic."
I look around me. I see taxis, and open air buses, and motorized fruit stalls with the skins of fruits catching the light and blinking, breathing, eerily full of motion. I see motorcycles with riders whose helmets are like the tips of soaked matchsticks in the rain, balancing on top of thin bodies. They are all traffic. I see chauffeur-driven vans whose dark windows swirl like liquid onyx in the rain, barely masking the flicker of a TV screen inside. I see a girl in a car next to me talking on her mobile. She lets out an enormous laugh--mouth fully open, teeth bared in joy--before remembering herself and putting her hand in front of her mouth. Her fingernails are long and painted, her wrist bends like an orchid. The rain comes harder now, and I can't make her out for much longer.
In the rain, in the traffic, we are radiating light, exhaling smog, and blurring blurring blurring.
The rain inhales for a moment, slowing to a trickle, adjusting itself for its next torrent. There is a brief moment before the light turns green. Everyone pauses, leaning, waiting, anticipating without the fever of hurry. And then, one by one, heads that have been sitting still, heads that have cupped calm like bony goblets, heads that have been watching without seeing, turn. Our heads turn to see an elephant lumbering along the side of the street, the skin on its trunk pink and speckled with age, white ink spelling sacred words on each of its legs, a mahout on its neck steering with his toes, a CD dangling from its tail. Swaying in its awkwardness, its sacredness, its cruel urban status. Its head is lowered against the rain and its trunk finds a railing, finds a sign, finds a car's mirror, finds a fire hydrant. The taxi driver and I find each other's eyes for a sympathetic blink before looking once again at the elephant.
It is traffic.
Oh yes.....another one of these!!
I'm working on a very intense project right now at work, which kinda makes me want to claw my face off. It's all very good and interesting, but the fact that I am a Psychotic Perfectionist means that the going is slow.
So.......it's time for a meme!!! I am strangely addicted to reading the ones that my friends post. And, hey, writing about myself is a hobby of mine (see: blog).
Thanks to Bangin' for the meme!!
60 Things You Can't Possibly Know About Me
what is in the back seat of your car right now?
Sadly, I sold my car when I moved overseas. She was a lime green Beetle and her name was Petunia. I love love loved her. I even put pink daisies in the little flower holder thingy.
when was the last time you threw up?
Uff da. That would be New Year's Day, 2008. And not for the reasons that people typically vomit on that day.
what’s your favorite word or phrase?
It's a tie between uff da and good grief.
Name 3 people who made you smile today?
Peter (via phone), Juice (via Facebook), and Jasmine.
What were you doing at 8 am this morning?
Riding in a taxi.
What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Typing feverishly and developing a headache.
Favorite board game?
Clue. It was TOTALLY Col. Mustard in the conservatory with the lead pipe.
Have you ever been to a strip club?
Yes. Unfortunately.
What is the last thing you said aloud?
"What are the culturally appropriate contexts for eye contact aversion in Thailand?" Followed by, "Oh, really??"
What is the best ice cream flavor?
Black Forest....the kind with real cherry chunks and brownie bits. Droooool.....
What was the last thing you had to drink?
I'm currently nursing some honey lemon drinking yogurt. It doesn't sound terribly appealing, but it tastes like liquid HEAVEN.
What are you wearing right now?
Capris, collared shirt, pearls, and a smile.
What was the last thing you ate?
Stone pot rice with assorted vegetables and kimchi soup. Jasmine and I went out for Korean.
Have you bought any new clothing items this week?
Nope. I've been on a very tight budget recently.
When was the last time you ran?
This weekend. I've been a little addicted recently.
What's the last sporting event you watched?
Good grief....um, quite possibly the Packers game in Aspen--which was a lot of fun-- with a bunch of manly men who made loud, manly sounds while I cooked up sandwiches. It would have made for a great anthropological study.
If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Honestly? At this exact moment in time? Milwaukee.
Ever go camping?
Yes! I love it.
Do you have a tan?
Absolutely not. I never leave the house without SPF 5,000. I have a mental allergy to the sun. And yet, I've still developed more freckles since I've been out here. Sheesh.
Have you ever lost anything down a toilet?
Nope. What a weird question.....
Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot?
SURE DO!!!!
Do you drink your soda from a straw?
I don't drink soda (I'm going to second Bangin's response to that....I do drink my drinking yogurt from a straw, however....)
What did the last text message say in your inbox?
I love you!
Are you someone's best friend?
Yes!
What are you doing tomorrow?
Working my ass off.
Where is your mom right now?
Sleeping on the other side of the world.
Look to your left, what do you see?
Books galore.
What color is your watch?
A student gave me the watch that I currently have. It's made out of coconut shell. It is a very treasured possession.
Ever ridden on a roller coaster?
Of course!!
Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru?
With the exception of some Subway that I ate on the way to the cabin in Eagle River for New Year's (where, yes, I vomited....and there was no running water....), I can't really remember the last time I ate fast food.
Do you have a dog?
No, but I plan on getting one as soon as I get settled in the U.S. I want a Maltese. Peter does not share my affinity for animals, but I'm hoping to change his mind. I can't WAIT to have a dog.
Last person you talked to on the phone?
Peter
Have you met anyone famous?
Oprah Winfrey, Jay and Silent Bob (a.k.a. Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes...there's a great story there that I'll have to write about someday....).
Any plans today?
Finish draft one of this Clear Expectations document.
Are you happy?
I would say I am at peace right now. I'm generally a happy person (with or without the "go-lucky"), but the last year-and-a-half has been filled with A LOT of changes, a lot of difficulties, and it's all been a gigantic roller coaster. I've just done the best that I can do with all of it, and I'm glad that things are starting to stabilize. So...yes, I'm happy. However, being at peace is a much harder thing to achieve, and I'm getting there in the way that is best for me.
Where are you right now?
At my desk.
Last song listened to?
Us by Regina Spektor.
What was the last movie you saw?
A pirated version of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I love love love that movie :)
in the theater...
I Could Never Be Your Woman. It sucked.
Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?
I have four pairs of ballet flats and I rotate them. I loves me some ballet flats.
Are you jealous of anyone?
Brad Pitt.
Is anyone jealous of you?
Ha ha! I highly doubt it.
Do any of your friends have children?
Yes! One of my best friends has the most ADORABLE little boy. She just sent me some new pictures of him and I almost DIED with the cuteness. Another friend of mine is expecting (yay!!), and one of my best friends from high school has two amazing, beautiful children.
Do you hate anyone right now?
Absolutely not! Well, except for President Bush.....
Do you use the word 'hello' daily?
I use the word "sawadeeka" every day.
How many kids do you want when you're older?
2 or 3.
How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
29. Yikes.
Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Nope. We had Valleyfair where I come from.
How did you get one of your scars?
I have some scars from getting moles removed. I also have some scars from when I was a premature baby and they had to put IVs in my head. As a result I've got two crazy little bald spots right along my part. I also have a scar from when I passed out while volunteering in a soup kitchen and bashed my chin on the way down. The most recent scar I got was when I burned my hand with scalding hot soup. Good grief. I really should be more careful.
So.......it's time for a meme!!! I am strangely addicted to reading the ones that my friends post. And, hey, writing about myself is a hobby of mine (see: blog).
Thanks to Bangin' for the meme!!
60 Things You Can't Possibly Know About Me
what is in the back seat of your car right now?
Sadly, I sold my car when I moved overseas. She was a lime green Beetle and her name was Petunia. I love love loved her. I even put pink daisies in the little flower holder thingy.
when was the last time you threw up?
Uff da. That would be New Year's Day, 2008. And not for the reasons that people typically vomit on that day.
what’s your favorite word or phrase?
It's a tie between uff da and good grief.
Name 3 people who made you smile today?
Peter (via phone), Juice (via Facebook), and Jasmine.
What were you doing at 8 am this morning?
Riding in a taxi.
What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Typing feverishly and developing a headache.
Favorite board game?
Clue. It was TOTALLY Col. Mustard in the conservatory with the lead pipe.
Have you ever been to a strip club?
Yes. Unfortunately.
What is the last thing you said aloud?
"What are the culturally appropriate contexts for eye contact aversion in Thailand?" Followed by, "Oh, really??"
What is the best ice cream flavor?
Black Forest....the kind with real cherry chunks and brownie bits. Droooool.....
What was the last thing you had to drink?
I'm currently nursing some honey lemon drinking yogurt. It doesn't sound terribly appealing, but it tastes like liquid HEAVEN.
What are you wearing right now?
Capris, collared shirt, pearls, and a smile.
What was the last thing you ate?
Stone pot rice with assorted vegetables and kimchi soup. Jasmine and I went out for Korean.
Have you bought any new clothing items this week?
Nope. I've been on a very tight budget recently.
When was the last time you ran?
This weekend. I've been a little addicted recently.
What's the last sporting event you watched?
Good grief....um, quite possibly the Packers game in Aspen--which was a lot of fun-- with a bunch of manly men who made loud, manly sounds while I cooked up sandwiches. It would have made for a great anthropological study.
If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Honestly? At this exact moment in time? Milwaukee.
Ever go camping?
Yes! I love it.
Do you have a tan?
Absolutely not. I never leave the house without SPF 5,000. I have a mental allergy to the sun. And yet, I've still developed more freckles since I've been out here. Sheesh.
Have you ever lost anything down a toilet?
Nope. What a weird question.....
Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot?
SURE DO!!!!
Do you drink your soda from a straw?
I don't drink soda (I'm going to second Bangin's response to that....I do drink my drinking yogurt from a straw, however....)
What did the last text message say in your inbox?
I love you!
Are you someone's best friend?
Yes!
What are you doing tomorrow?
Working my ass off.
Where is your mom right now?
Sleeping on the other side of the world.
Look to your left, what do you see?
Books galore.
What color is your watch?
A student gave me the watch that I currently have. It's made out of coconut shell. It is a very treasured possession.
Ever ridden on a roller coaster?
Of course!!
Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru?
With the exception of some Subway that I ate on the way to the cabin in Eagle River for New Year's (where, yes, I vomited....and there was no running water....), I can't really remember the last time I ate fast food.
Do you have a dog?
No, but I plan on getting one as soon as I get settled in the U.S. I want a Maltese. Peter does not share my affinity for animals, but I'm hoping to change his mind. I can't WAIT to have a dog.
Last person you talked to on the phone?
Peter
Have you met anyone famous?
Oprah Winfrey, Jay and Silent Bob (a.k.a. Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes...there's a great story there that I'll have to write about someday....).
Any plans today?
Finish draft one of this Clear Expectations document.
Are you happy?
I would say I am at peace right now. I'm generally a happy person (with or without the "go-lucky"), but the last year-and-a-half has been filled with A LOT of changes, a lot of difficulties, and it's all been a gigantic roller coaster. I've just done the best that I can do with all of it, and I'm glad that things are starting to stabilize. So...yes, I'm happy. However, being at peace is a much harder thing to achieve, and I'm getting there in the way that is best for me.
Where are you right now?
At my desk.
Last song listened to?
Us by Regina Spektor.
What was the last movie you saw?
A pirated version of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I love love love that movie :)
in the theater...
I Could Never Be Your Woman. It sucked.
Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?
I have four pairs of ballet flats and I rotate them. I loves me some ballet flats.
Are you jealous of anyone?
Brad Pitt.
Is anyone jealous of you?
Ha ha! I highly doubt it.
Do any of your friends have children?
Yes! One of my best friends has the most ADORABLE little boy. She just sent me some new pictures of him and I almost DIED with the cuteness. Another friend of mine is expecting (yay!!), and one of my best friends from high school has two amazing, beautiful children.
Do you hate anyone right now?
Absolutely not! Well, except for President Bush.....
Do you use the word 'hello' daily?
I use the word "sawadeeka" every day.
How many kids do you want when you're older?
2 or 3.
How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
29. Yikes.
Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Nope. We had Valleyfair where I come from.
How did you get one of your scars?
I have some scars from getting moles removed. I also have some scars from when I was a premature baby and they had to put IVs in my head. As a result I've got two crazy little bald spots right along my part. I also have a scar from when I passed out while volunteering in a soup kitchen and bashed my chin on the way down. The most recent scar I got was when I burned my hand with scalding hot soup. Good grief. I really should be more careful.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Bangkok
Sometimes it is gnarled and absent and full of holes
Other times it gleams like teeth, like
new parts.
Sometimes the veins of its momentum burst open,
spilling salty bits of plans and need
Other times it stands still
simmering in its denied frustration, in its
impossible peace
chunky, clotted, whole.
Sometimes it is a hollow chasm
speckled with nodules and bony parts
shivering in the artificial air
freezing lungs, forgetting breath
Other times it holds you in a grip without fingers
as it exhales rank, wet heat into the
exclamation points of your nostrils.
Sometimes it is abundant and glittery and
pregnant with paper and want
and everything, everything is just RIGHT THERE
and yes, I'll take it--ow,ow,ow*
and a constant burp boils in its belly
Other times starvation's possessed suitors
pull blankets of tin and pavement and memory
over themselves
shuddering in their lust
collecting liquid pools as altars.
Sometimes it is children and knees running
and shrieking and hands folded please
and b...b...b...ball
Other times it is high heels and pearls
and tiny skirts, hips
walking without tripping
giggling without sincerity
silk that billows like filthy light
a face like an angel's wing
This place, this place, this
Mecca for the Homeless
drifting, neon, liquid grasp
Searching, searching, searching
LOST.
And then, one breath, one blink, one
pulsating snap in time later,
HOME.
Sometimes plastic
Sometimes caked in a thick reality
A heavily lined palm
Holding, releasing, slapping, caressing.
Relentless.
*This is the Thai word for WANT.
Other times it gleams like teeth, like
new parts.
Sometimes the veins of its momentum burst open,
spilling salty bits of plans and need
Other times it stands still
simmering in its denied frustration, in its
impossible peace
chunky, clotted, whole.
Sometimes it is a hollow chasm
speckled with nodules and bony parts
shivering in the artificial air
freezing lungs, forgetting breath
Other times it holds you in a grip without fingers
as it exhales rank, wet heat into the
exclamation points of your nostrils.
Sometimes it is abundant and glittery and
pregnant with paper and want
and everything, everything is just RIGHT THERE
and yes, I'll take it--ow,ow,ow*
and a constant burp boils in its belly
Other times starvation's possessed suitors
pull blankets of tin and pavement and memory
over themselves
shuddering in their lust
collecting liquid pools as altars.
Sometimes it is children and knees running
and shrieking and hands folded please
and b...b...b...ball
Other times it is high heels and pearls
and tiny skirts, hips
walking without tripping
giggling without sincerity
silk that billows like filthy light
a face like an angel's wing
This place, this place, this
Mecca for the Homeless
drifting, neon, liquid grasp
Searching, searching, searching
LOST.
And then, one breath, one blink, one
pulsating snap in time later,
HOME.
Sometimes plastic
Sometimes caked in a thick reality
A heavily lined palm
Holding, releasing, slapping, caressing.
Relentless.
*This is the Thai word for WANT.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Happy Day!
So here's what happened this morning:
My employers sat me down and told me that they will now be taking 3,000 baht LESS per month out of my paycheck for taxes. They also said that they will be paying the RIDICULOUSLY HIGH fees that the condo charges per month, thereby reducing my monthly utility bill by 5,000 baht per month. They also gave me a bunch of snacks because they don't think I eat enough.
So let's recap:
*I get to keep 8,000 more baht per month (or about $260)
*They gave me snacks
I was waiting for them to trot out a brand new pony for me, because that's the only way that the morning would have gotten more awesome, but alas, that may have to wait until Christmas.
All I had for them was a Power Point presentation, but they practically wept with joy when it was over.
I'm not even all that good at Power Point.
I can definitely say that things have turned a (very large, very scary) corner with my employers, and we are living in our own happy little world. There are animated bluebirds that sit on my shoulder all day long, and the flowers in the (rather ample) garden actually sing to me. This has been a loooooooong time coming, and a lot of sweat and tears had to pour forth from my overachieving little body before we could get to this point. I wish I had one baht for every time I thought about running away. I'd probably have 8,000 baht by now.
Oh, wait!! I do!!!!!!!
Honestly, though, it's not about the money or the snacks. It's about a rather solid level of mutual respect and understanding that will give us the footing to move forward and create something wonderful for the kids. And I never thought we'd get here.
Let this be a lesson to you, kids: patience, persistence, the ability to suspend all common sense and dive into the shallow end (spinal cord injuries, be damned!!!!), and a touch of workaholism actually DO pay off.
In all seriousness, though, I'm really excited. I know the next year is going to fly by all too quickly.
My employers sat me down and told me that they will now be taking 3,000 baht LESS per month out of my paycheck for taxes. They also said that they will be paying the RIDICULOUSLY HIGH fees that the condo charges per month, thereby reducing my monthly utility bill by 5,000 baht per month. They also gave me a bunch of snacks because they don't think I eat enough.
So let's recap:
*I get to keep 8,000 more baht per month (or about $260)
*They gave me snacks
I was waiting for them to trot out a brand new pony for me, because that's the only way that the morning would have gotten more awesome, but alas, that may have to wait until Christmas.
All I had for them was a Power Point presentation, but they practically wept with joy when it was over.
I'm not even all that good at Power Point.
I can definitely say that things have turned a (very large, very scary) corner with my employers, and we are living in our own happy little world. There are animated bluebirds that sit on my shoulder all day long, and the flowers in the (rather ample) garden actually sing to me. This has been a loooooooong time coming, and a lot of sweat and tears had to pour forth from my overachieving little body before we could get to this point. I wish I had one baht for every time I thought about running away. I'd probably have 8,000 baht by now.
Oh, wait!! I do!!!!!!!
Honestly, though, it's not about the money or the snacks. It's about a rather solid level of mutual respect and understanding that will give us the footing to move forward and create something wonderful for the kids. And I never thought we'd get here.
Let this be a lesson to you, kids: patience, persistence, the ability to suspend all common sense and dive into the shallow end (spinal cord injuries, be damned!!!!), and a touch of workaholism actually DO pay off.
In all seriousness, though, I'm really excited. I know the next year is going to fly by all too quickly.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Growth and decay
I've gotten some concerned e-mails from some readers (um, hi Mom!!) who have noticed the slightly morose tone that I've taken in some recent posts, and they were wondering if I am, y'know, alright. Worry not, loyal readers (hi again, Mom)! As I mentioned in my last post, there have been some difficult things that have been weighing heavily on my mind. BUT, I have dusted myself off and continued on. This last year has been full of many ups and downs. Things are starting to finally stabilize, and for that I am most definitely grateful. And I've still taken plenty of time through all of the difficult moments to STOP and LOOK and appreciate the various amazing places that I've gone. To savor the beautiful encounters and adventures that I've had. Sometimes real growth can only occur if you really push yourself. If you dare yourself to feel lonely and sad and scared, and if you take a huge leap out of your comfort zone. Then you realize that, no, it's actually NOT going to kill you. In fact, it feels pretty good. And I'm realizing also that happiness isn't just about one extreme vs. another (in other words, happiness does not mean that EVERYTHING IS PERFECT AND SUNSHINY AND SPARKLY or else it SUCKS). Things can be sucky and you can still find a way to be happy. Conversely, for a lot of people, things can be perfect and they can still find a way to be unhappy. Right now I'm learning things that I wouldn't have learned if I hadn't taken a gigantic risk in coming to Thailand (armed only with two suitcases and the part of my brain that allows me to take complete and utter leave of my senses from time to time) and starting a school from scratch. And it has been both difficult and exhilarating. And, well, sometimes growth and learning can be downright painful, and sometimes things in your life have to decay in order to make room for this new growth. And that's just how it is. So often we get so fearful of letting things decay, and letting people go who don't want to be in our lives anymore, and evicting the people who shouldn't be in our lives anymore, and letting go of grudges and negative feelings that brought us some sort of fucked up comfort, and letting go of bad habits, and letting go of the people we used to be, that we make the choice to stay still in a personal space where it's nice and cozy and warm, but there's no room for growth.
So yes. I am alright. I am starting to Get It. And I'm riding the waves of my ups and downs without swallowing them.
Thailand is starting to sink into my veins and clean out a lot of things. Anger, intensity, self-righteousness, extreme stress, crabbiness, slavish devotion to a deadline, unrealistic perfectionism....they don't translate here. And most people don't believe me, but NO ONE uses horns here (unless it's for a legitimate warning in order to avoid a collision...and even then, only at the very last second), and you NEVER hear people yelling in an argument. There is a surface of calm here, even on these chaotic city streets and sidewalks, that can be disturbed even by a sour facial expression. And once that ripple of unpleasantness, no matter how small, has started, then everyone feels it. Everyone's day is ruined. So it just doesn't happen. And I'm just trying to drink it all in. To make this energy a part of me. To somehow store all of the smiles that I receive every day in some sort of pocket, because I know that soon enough I will not be greeted by beaming strangers every time I walk down the street, and I will not be able to rely on the scent of jasmine from the garland vendors to give my nose and lungs a break from the urban air. I will have to start veering off of the sidewalk again (what IS that?? There are two kinds of people in the U.S.: people who veer, and people who just keep plowing along and expecting everyone else to move out of the way. I mean, can you give me an INCH at least so that I don't have to walk right into the fender of this oncoming car???? I digress....) and expecting anything with wheels to yield to my pedestrian self.
Goodness. I'm realizing that I miss Bangkok already, and I'm still here.....
So yes. I am alright. I am starting to Get It. And I'm riding the waves of my ups and downs without swallowing them.
Thailand is starting to sink into my veins and clean out a lot of things. Anger, intensity, self-righteousness, extreme stress, crabbiness, slavish devotion to a deadline, unrealistic perfectionism....they don't translate here. And most people don't believe me, but NO ONE uses horns here (unless it's for a legitimate warning in order to avoid a collision...and even then, only at the very last second), and you NEVER hear people yelling in an argument. There is a surface of calm here, even on these chaotic city streets and sidewalks, that can be disturbed even by a sour facial expression. And once that ripple of unpleasantness, no matter how small, has started, then everyone feels it. Everyone's day is ruined. So it just doesn't happen. And I'm just trying to drink it all in. To make this energy a part of me. To somehow store all of the smiles that I receive every day in some sort of pocket, because I know that soon enough I will not be greeted by beaming strangers every time I walk down the street, and I will not be able to rely on the scent of jasmine from the garland vendors to give my nose and lungs a break from the urban air. I will have to start veering off of the sidewalk again (what IS that?? There are two kinds of people in the U.S.: people who veer, and people who just keep plowing along and expecting everyone else to move out of the way. I mean, can you give me an INCH at least so that I don't have to walk right into the fender of this oncoming car???? I digress....) and expecting anything with wheels to yield to my pedestrian self.
Goodness. I'm realizing that I miss Bangkok already, and I'm still here.....
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Chon*
I have definitely grown quite a bit since I've been in Thailand. I mean, not physically, because nearly 20 pounds of me have melted off in the humidity/spice sweat/parasite diet, but definitely emotionally. Case in point: as I mentioned on my friend Andrew's blog, I have been missing the Urban Family of Phoenix, and feeling just a tad on the lonely side. This is due to some recent developments, which include miscommunication with various loved ones in my life (which were largely my fault); some rather intense personal circumstances that have been severely difficult for me to wrap my little brain around (Life and Death stuff), thereby causing me to withdraw a bit; and the realization that, no, I won't see my family for an entire calendar year, and being apart from them for that long is much harder than I would have thought. However, here's the happy part: Whereas one year ago I would have just curled up and cried (and, um, don't get me wrong, there has been plenty of that), this time I decided to dust myself off, say "fuck it," and throw a dinner party for the wonderful people here in Bangkok that I am lucky to call my friends.
The thing about dinner parties is that I LOVE LOVE LOVE throwing them. I love to entertain. I love having people in my home, I love getting them drunk, I love scrubbing floors in preparation for their precious feet. However, they can be insanely stressful, especially if said dinner party is the grand finale in the exceptionally chaotic performance known as Your Day. Having people in your home helps you to appreciate it more (oh gosh, that Buddha really DOES look pretty there!), but each guest seems to hand you a crazed magnifying glass as they walk through the door (**completely of your own invention, mind you, not as a result of what anyone else has said or thought**), designed to bring certain psychotic flaws to life (OMG....these light fixtures SUCK! Why are my walls such an eye-frying white? I just dusted! Why the hell are the floors ALREADY DUSTY AGAIN????). Add all of these neurotic thoughts to the fact that the air con in the dining room wasn't working, and it didn't look like there would be enough food at first, and you've got a recipe for Melted Down Brooke. Just bake at 90 degrees (not hard, considering the, um, lack of air con....)
BUT, the good news is that the wonderful people who are my friends have earned that title for a reason. They were sweet and wonderful and repeatedly ordered me to RELAX and SIT DOWN and DRINK THIS WINE. And the conversation got on a roll, and I started running around taking pictures, and I ordered some more food, and before I knew it I was enjoying the incredible company in my midst (wine buzz notwithstanding) and feeling the kind of familiar comfort that one can only feel when friends are in one's home.
It occurred to me that, save for buying several rounds of pitchers at the Redline, I hadn't entertained friends since leaving Phoenix. Sure, I may have been a little out of practice, and I definitely wished that my friend N. had been there, but it made me miss the past a whole lot less. And it was probably the most at home I've felt in Bangkok in the ten months (!!!) that I've been here. And it felt much better than indulging my self-pitying sadness and penning homages to my angst.
So here's to growth and to friends. And here's to a party at my place at least once a month.
P.S.: Does anyone know where you can find a pinata in Bangkok?? 'Cause you can take the girl out of Phoenix, but you can't take the crazy pinatas that we used to break in Phoenix outta the girl......
*In Thai, this literally means "crash" or "collide." It is also, however, what you say before clinking glasses. It is the Thai version of "cheers!"
The thing about dinner parties is that I LOVE LOVE LOVE throwing them. I love to entertain. I love having people in my home, I love getting them drunk, I love scrubbing floors in preparation for their precious feet. However, they can be insanely stressful, especially if said dinner party is the grand finale in the exceptionally chaotic performance known as Your Day. Having people in your home helps you to appreciate it more (oh gosh, that Buddha really DOES look pretty there!), but each guest seems to hand you a crazed magnifying glass as they walk through the door (**completely of your own invention, mind you, not as a result of what anyone else has said or thought**), designed to bring certain psychotic flaws to life (OMG....these light fixtures SUCK! Why are my walls such an eye-frying white? I just dusted! Why the hell are the floors ALREADY DUSTY AGAIN????). Add all of these neurotic thoughts to the fact that the air con in the dining room wasn't working, and it didn't look like there would be enough food at first, and you've got a recipe for Melted Down Brooke. Just bake at 90 degrees (not hard, considering the, um, lack of air con....)
BUT, the good news is that the wonderful people who are my friends have earned that title for a reason. They were sweet and wonderful and repeatedly ordered me to RELAX and SIT DOWN and DRINK THIS WINE. And the conversation got on a roll, and I started running around taking pictures, and I ordered some more food, and before I knew it I was enjoying the incredible company in my midst (wine buzz notwithstanding) and feeling the kind of familiar comfort that one can only feel when friends are in one's home.
It occurred to me that, save for buying several rounds of pitchers at the Redline, I hadn't entertained friends since leaving Phoenix. Sure, I may have been a little out of practice, and I definitely wished that my friend N. had been there, but it made me miss the past a whole lot less. And it was probably the most at home I've felt in Bangkok in the ten months (!!!) that I've been here. And it felt much better than indulging my self-pitying sadness and penning homages to my angst.
So here's to growth and to friends. And here's to a party at my place at least once a month.
P.S.: Does anyone know where you can find a pinata in Bangkok?? 'Cause you can take the girl out of Phoenix, but you can't take the crazy pinatas that we used to break in Phoenix outta the girl......
*In Thai, this literally means "crash" or "collide." It is also, however, what you say before clinking glasses. It is the Thai version of "cheers!"
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Myanmar
I can't believe the death toll in Myanmar will most likely surpass 100,000. I certainly CAN believe that the military junta would have the audacity to refuse aid, as that government is comprised not of men but of monsters. I feel sick to my stomach.
When I was visiting Shwedagon Pagoda--one of the world's most famous temples--a group of young girls approached me, accompanied by an older gentleman who served as a translator. The man told me that the girls were from the countryside, it was their first trip to Yangon, and they wanted to have their pictures taken with me. My guess is that they hadn't seen too many white people with blonde hair and blue eyes before, especially given the fact that so few tourists travel to Myanmar. I glanced over at them and they were giggling shyly and trying not to make eye contact. I took a picture with each of the girls individually, and then with the entire group. We hugged, they thanked me, and they giggled some more.
I was looking at these pictures last night. These girls were so beautiful and beaming and sweet. I hope that they are okay. PLEASE let them be okay.
I was so deeply touched by my interactions with the beautiful people there. So much so that, as I have mentioned before, I've had trouble putting it into words. The words aren't coming any more easily now. But the conversations that I did have were filled with a combination of love, hope, fear, and an absolute hunger for knowledge.
There were two students and a young monk who gave me their e-mail addresses. I wrote them once when I first returned, but didn't hear back (e-mail access is extremely limited there, so I wasn't exactly surprised). I think it's time to write to them again.
I've been doing more research on ways to help. The aid situation is very tricky at the moment, but I found a great list of resources on CNN.com. I hope you find the list helpful as well.
When I was visiting Shwedagon Pagoda--one of the world's most famous temples--a group of young girls approached me, accompanied by an older gentleman who served as a translator. The man told me that the girls were from the countryside, it was their first trip to Yangon, and they wanted to have their pictures taken with me. My guess is that they hadn't seen too many white people with blonde hair and blue eyes before, especially given the fact that so few tourists travel to Myanmar. I glanced over at them and they were giggling shyly and trying not to make eye contact. I took a picture with each of the girls individually, and then with the entire group. We hugged, they thanked me, and they giggled some more.
I was looking at these pictures last night. These girls were so beautiful and beaming and sweet. I hope that they are okay. PLEASE let them be okay.
I was so deeply touched by my interactions with the beautiful people there. So much so that, as I have mentioned before, I've had trouble putting it into words. The words aren't coming any more easily now. But the conversations that I did have were filled with a combination of love, hope, fear, and an absolute hunger for knowledge.
There were two students and a young monk who gave me their e-mail addresses. I wrote them once when I first returned, but didn't hear back (e-mail access is extremely limited there, so I wasn't exactly surprised). I think it's time to write to them again.
I've been doing more research on ways to help. The aid situation is very tricky at the moment, but I found a great list of resources on CNN.com. I hope you find the list helpful as well.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
For Andrew
This started out as a comment that I wrote on my gay husband's blog. I think we've both been missing each other quite a bit, and as we struggle to find communities of friends who understand us (and, in my case, stay put for more than six months at a time) in the new places where we live, we have both been longing for the "urban family" that we left behind in Phoenix.
Here's my comment:
Yeah, Drinko de Mayo just isn't the same after you've lived in Phoenix. I've been taking many a stroll down memory lane recently. We had some good times there. I'm looking forward to living in the same place as you again and eating brunch and talking about Nietzsche and taking Susie for power walks. It's been pretty lonely here lately and I'm rather homesick. I miss road trips to Springerville and apologizing profusely for my drunken ridiculousness (looking back on it, I don't know why I got so worked up about all of that). I miss Campari and my green Volkswagen Beetle and Monroe's (which totally reminds me of The Roadhouse from Twin Peaks). This comment is getting long and ridiculous. I'm going to finish the rest of it on my blog....
I miss getting pedicures and the garden in the house where you and Max lived. I miss getting wasted and staring at your fish tanks. I miss going for long runs at night when the weather finally cooled down and I miss eating Taco Bell (well, ok, not really all that much) and speaking Spanish. I miss your encouragement and how you were always on my side about EVERYTHING. I miss the Sisyphusian rock of your Airstream and getting Baskin Robbins before going to the dog park.
Phoenix is a different place now. The light rail is installed, the apartment where I lived is now a condo, and most of the urban family has moved away. It's hard to plant strong roots in the desert. But still, it's nice to be able to miss a place and people and know that feelings of loneliness are only temporary. I'm just glad that Cambridge will be our united stomping ground in the not too distant future. And then I can miss Bangkok and write posts like this about it.
Here's my comment:
Yeah, Drinko de Mayo just isn't the same after you've lived in Phoenix. I've been taking many a stroll down memory lane recently. We had some good times there. I'm looking forward to living in the same place as you again and eating brunch and talking about Nietzsche and taking Susie for power walks. It's been pretty lonely here lately and I'm rather homesick. I miss road trips to Springerville and apologizing profusely for my drunken ridiculousness (looking back on it, I don't know why I got so worked up about all of that). I miss Campari and my green Volkswagen Beetle and Monroe's (which totally reminds me of The Roadhouse from Twin Peaks). This comment is getting long and ridiculous. I'm going to finish the rest of it on my blog....
I miss getting pedicures and the garden in the house where you and Max lived. I miss getting wasted and staring at your fish tanks. I miss going for long runs at night when the weather finally cooled down and I miss eating Taco Bell (well, ok, not really all that much) and speaking Spanish. I miss your encouragement and how you were always on my side about EVERYTHING. I miss the Sisyphusian rock of your Airstream and getting Baskin Robbins before going to the dog park.
Phoenix is a different place now. The light rail is installed, the apartment where I lived is now a condo, and most of the urban family has moved away. It's hard to plant strong roots in the desert. But still, it's nice to be able to miss a place and people and know that feelings of loneliness are only temporary. I'm just glad that Cambridge will be our united stomping ground in the not too distant future. And then I can miss Bangkok and write posts like this about it.
Tragedy
This absolutely breaks my heart. My thoughts and prayers are with the beautiful people of Myanmar. I can't believe that something like this can happen in a place that is already riddled with so much pain and oppression. The people there were so warm and kind to me. Monks blessed me, students told me about their love of books, little girls had their pictures taken with me. This is just beyond tragic.
If you would like to help, you can make a donation here.
If you would like to help, you can make a donation here.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Halcyon Days
I like to stay focused on the positive things as much as possible while writing this blog. There are many extraordinary things about living my life overseas, and I want THOSE things to shine through. There are, however, more than a few really difficult things about living my life overseas. Occupying the first spot on the Things That Are Difficult totem pole would be the fact that I am far away from Peter. It is insanely, crushingly difficult. SO, in an effort to paint an honest picture I thought I would share this little piece of stream-of-consciousness writing from my paper journal.
Enjoy.
In Aspen it snowed these big, huge flakes that were so light they never seemed to really land until suddenly the pathway to the house was snowed in and then you had to shovel until the handle snapped. And then at night the mist rose and we walked without mittens so I could feel your hand and my scarf got drenched in breath and I had to claw it away from my face so that you could hear my thoughts on our surroundings, on our future plans, and my voice sounded like a secret shriek because the air was thin and still like burst corneas and blisters and you challenged me to an icicle fight and a snow bank made the letter “P” where a car had been. We saw geodes like the points of pupils—alert, waiting, watching, dripping light like the puddle of my drool that was on your shoulder every morning, though I tried to wipe it off before you noticed. We looked at antiques for our future home and stepped over sleeping cats and the doilies in the window made me sneeze, and neither of us had time to write about any of this because we were too busy jumpstarting our lungs and rearranging pictures and sharing closets and making side-by-side footprints and wishing we could just skip over the year ahead of us with its grief and its want and its confusion. But there was no room for any of that in Aspen—just sleepy car rides and scalding hot springs and the kind of exercise that makes your lungs burn with health and your cheeks explode with superhuman capillaries and your eyes three shades lighter and I didn’t mind getting stuck on that mountain with the snow covering my skis and boots and my thighs trembling in exhaustion because I knew we’d make it down together once I found my way back to you and we’d plant another memory at the base of those mountains. Those mountains hold memories the same way that they hold the echo of gunfire where it fades at first but not completely and then you don’t know where it came from originally because its hum is suddenly all around you and it just sits on top of the world like oil without seeping in and it’s not just here it’s everywhere. And right now I’m sweating behind my knees in a place where the heat and the spice make the dogs howl at night and those mountains seem more than a little smug to me right now because they are still holding the sharpened points of my memories like bits of quartz and all I can see is a lovesick blur. And those mountains may be great at keeping memories but they are SHITTY at predicting the future because if I had known I wouldn’t see you for another six months and that you would have to go through your own personal hell alone I wouldn’t have smiled and kissed you and kinda shrugged. I would have screamed into your chest and refused to get on that plane and tried to attach myself to you as some sort of filter—simultaneously absorbing and dissolving all of the bad stuff so that all you would have to do is think, think, think. Pure unadulterated function. But instead I sleep with antacids and a bottle opener next to my bed and I cry snowflakes that evaporate into humidity and dream of mountains and air so thin that it snaps and I’m frozen in this hot, hot place and “I miss you” and “I love you” feel as inadequate as drool.
Enjoy.
In Aspen it snowed these big, huge flakes that were so light they never seemed to really land until suddenly the pathway to the house was snowed in and then you had to shovel until the handle snapped. And then at night the mist rose and we walked without mittens so I could feel your hand and my scarf got drenched in breath and I had to claw it away from my face so that you could hear my thoughts on our surroundings, on our future plans, and my voice sounded like a secret shriek because the air was thin and still like burst corneas and blisters and you challenged me to an icicle fight and a snow bank made the letter “P” where a car had been. We saw geodes like the points of pupils—alert, waiting, watching, dripping light like the puddle of my drool that was on your shoulder every morning, though I tried to wipe it off before you noticed. We looked at antiques for our future home and stepped over sleeping cats and the doilies in the window made me sneeze, and neither of us had time to write about any of this because we were too busy jumpstarting our lungs and rearranging pictures and sharing closets and making side-by-side footprints and wishing we could just skip over the year ahead of us with its grief and its want and its confusion. But there was no room for any of that in Aspen—just sleepy car rides and scalding hot springs and the kind of exercise that makes your lungs burn with health and your cheeks explode with superhuman capillaries and your eyes three shades lighter and I didn’t mind getting stuck on that mountain with the snow covering my skis and boots and my thighs trembling in exhaustion because I knew we’d make it down together once I found my way back to you and we’d plant another memory at the base of those mountains. Those mountains hold memories the same way that they hold the echo of gunfire where it fades at first but not completely and then you don’t know where it came from originally because its hum is suddenly all around you and it just sits on top of the world like oil without seeping in and it’s not just here it’s everywhere. And right now I’m sweating behind my knees in a place where the heat and the spice make the dogs howl at night and those mountains seem more than a little smug to me right now because they are still holding the sharpened points of my memories like bits of quartz and all I can see is a lovesick blur. And those mountains may be great at keeping memories but they are SHITTY at predicting the future because if I had known I wouldn’t see you for another six months and that you would have to go through your own personal hell alone I wouldn’t have smiled and kissed you and kinda shrugged. I would have screamed into your chest and refused to get on that plane and tried to attach myself to you as some sort of filter—simultaneously absorbing and dissolving all of the bad stuff so that all you would have to do is think, think, think. Pure unadulterated function. But instead I sleep with antacids and a bottle opener next to my bed and I cry snowflakes that evaporate into humidity and dream of mountains and air so thin that it snaps and I’m frozen in this hot, hot place and “I miss you” and “I love you” feel as inadequate as drool.
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