Snow Day

Don't worry, I still want to be an English teacher because things like this make my inner nerd happy. Unfortunately, I found this on a website with no source/link- if anyone knows where to credit this image, please tell me!

Last weekend, I did about 15 hours of homework and 5 hours of grading. I had a bit of a surprise when I logged into my classes on Monday, Oct 17th and saw that I had a third graduate class- a second 8 weeks reading and vocabulary instruction course that I assumed was for next semester. No, not at all. When I clicked on it, lo and behold there was a "Welcome to the class!!" announcement, along with a first unit dated Oct 17th- Oct 30th. Mind you, I logged in the evening of Oct 17th, so that day was gone. By Oct 23rd, I needed to complete two (detailed) assignments with a lot of required reading. By Oct 30th, I needed to plan, implement, document, and reflect on two lessons. Did I mention I student teach three days a week, school was off Friday, and thus I had 4 days to do the pre-reading/assignment, consult with my mentor teacher, and plan and implement and document said lessons? Thankfully I shoehorned the first lesson into a larger lesson over a news article, and the second one flowed naturally from that. Even more propitiously, my mentor teacher was able to be flexible and give me time. So it all worked out, but it was a busy last weekend, one that had me up until 2 a.m. morning before last. I woke up at 6. On 4 hours of sleep, I taught two classes, assisted in another, used up one of my prep periods to observe another teacher, and frantically used my other prep period (Mondays are 45 minute periods) to get everything done for school.

Tuesday (yesterday) I graded for about 5 hours and did homework for about 3. I went to bed exhausted and stressed out, but I was finally getting a bit ahead. It was set to snow all night- 6 inches- so I had to wake up early and leave early to prepare for an hour commute. I was feeling... insane. I mentioned to Bobby "maybe they'll cancel school??" he replied "not likely, Colorado is used to dealing with snow". I was hopeful, but realistic. He was right- in Texas, we freak out and go into lock down "OMG where are the cans of food and bottled water??" mode over an inch or two of ice. But Colorado has their snow shit together.

This morning, however, was amazing. Everything was piled with snow, and right as I headed out of my neighborhood I got a call- school was, indeed, cancelled. I spent most of the day catching up at the kitchen table, but I will also admit that I spent a few hours reading in bed with the blinds thrown open, watching the snow fall.

I need today off more than I realized. I have hours and hours of lesson planning and homework to do tomorrow, but I'm ready for it. I feel a million times better. I never had a snow day as a kid, and this one came at the perfect time. I don't mean to whinge or sound ungrateful- I know that taking 3 graduate classes and student teaching and volunteering and being busy with things I care about are all first world problems. But right now they're my problems and I'm getting nervous about them. I worked full time and went to school full time all through undergraduate AND my first master's degree. I was never, ever this stressed out. I don't know what it is. But I do feel like last weekend, getting a head a bit, and today, getting a break, are making things better.

Or this might just be the beginning of a sneaky hate spiral.

I Have Heard What the Talkers Were Talking

I'm all talked out, kittens. I just truly don't even care to try and engage in meaningful debate anymore. Way back when I first stumbled upon blogs, I found it fun to find interesting things to read and discuss on the internet, with intelligent and interesting people. No, I'm not talking about crappy forums where people just fight. I'm talking legitimate spaces for sharing thoughts, working through thorny issues, having one's mind changed, changing another person's mind, etc. I relished the back and forth of respectful debate, the logical mind exercise of thinking through something and trying to deconstruct it. The first blog that I found, and was active in, was Feminist Mormon Housewives. I managed to find it in the fall of 2004, right when it was recently founded. I was dating a Mormon at the time, and wondering what kind of space there was in his faith for liberals, feminists, free thinkers. Taking part in that blog over the course of the year we dated in Dallas, and the year we dated long distance while I lived in Japan, really helped me. A lot. I found other blogs, and started my own once Myspace finally sucked me in during the early part of 2006, when I was halfway through that year in Japan. I had always loved a good (honest, civil) debate, and I found a lot of it online. Once I joined FB, there were lots of linked articles and posts to hash over with my friends (liberal and not liberal) and on the whole, most were civil and engaging. I found such interactions to be a nice exercise in logic, and it was fun to talk with people who had varying view points.

Often times in the past I have touched on controversial subjects on my own blog, or have presented strongly held and sometimes contentious viewpoints. Those blog posts were often extensively researched, and I felt like I wanted/needed to share them. I am no wallflower when it comes to politics, and I am open about being an activist. I volunteered for two years as a Democratic Precinct Chair, and I served as a delegate to the National Convention in Austin. Throughout undergraduate and graduate school I have taken part in more student actions, and signed more petitions, than I can count. I am a proud and regular voter, I've registered others to vote, and I have marched in rallies with homemade signs. I have cried over laws passed, laws that left me just so broken hearted and defeated that I just wanted to give up. But I didn't, and I haven't, and I won't.

But what I do want to give up- at least for right now- is all the talking. All the writing. Because let's face it. 99% of it is pure wasted time. It might be fun for me to craft a zinger of a response, or a witty counterpoint, or a scathing post, meticulously researched, on how unfair X, Y, or Z law is. But in the end, I'm usually preaching to the choir. And it's usually, honestly, a waste of my time. I think it served a purpose for a long time, I do think it made me more open minded, more temperate, more logical, and it allowed me to really develop a firm understanding of why I believe the things I do. And I learned a lot, and changed a lot. Right now, however, the thought of engaging in debate just leaves me exhausted. I put a moratorium on myself that I recently rescinded and it just left me annoyed, and further reinforced that sometimes, it matters not how logically one presents an argument, it will inevitably not change anyone's mind. I'm not interested in writing blog posts that just bring out the cheering section, and I don't really believe that such posts would cause someone to change their position, because I have very little faith in the powers of my own writing, and I have enough sense to know that this blog doesn't have a very large sphere of influence. I'm growing tired of choosing the words, of sharing the facts, of offering the caveats, of addressing dissent before it is raised. All of those bob and weaves used to be fun, and now they just feel so laborious.

I'm still politically active. I'm still signing those petitions, and volunteering, and fighting for what I believe in.  Tonight, I rejoiced when I received my text from HRC that same sex marriage had passed in New York. But as much as I'm giddy about the news, I truly have no desire to write a long and thoughtful and passionate blog post about it, and then field potential comments, good or bad. I feel the need to say that I do, still, get inspired and motivated by reading such material, or skimming over an interesting political debate. I'm just not at all interested, at the moment, in creating it myself. Maybe it will come back. Maybe it won't. I'm just tired of expending the energy, and I was never tired before. It used to be fun. I would think of a turn of phrase, or a good point to make, and I would enjoy it. Now that I'm tired of it, and bored with it, it's probably a good move to stop spending my time on it. I've gotten to where I don't even care to talk about it amongst friends. I'm just. talked. out. I think I'm also pissed off that we're STILL having to talk about some of these things in the first place. For God's sake, I want to stop debating "whether or not we should let gay people get married". Or "is health care a human right?". Or "should evolution be taught in schools?" Or "does feminism harm men?". Blurrrrrrgh. I just want to be in a place where certain things are just accepted. Debating such things just reminds me that so many of my morals and values must still be defended on a constant basis. I told Bobby I was annoyed with having to start from a baseline of fighting for legitimacy in the first place. I don't mind doing it at the ballot, or in an e-mail or letter to my senator, or on a phone call to a registered voter to tell them to get out and VOTE. I am, however, minding a lot having to talktalktalk about it. Especially when so much of it is a song and dance, a little formality, with neither party really having any intention of changing.

I'm feeling dangerously close to the apathy line, and I can't let myself burn out now. I believe far too strongly in way too many things to let myself get taken over with ambivalence. If writing it all out, if presenting and defending arguments, if engaging in debate, if all  of that is wearing me out it's not worth the mental exercise I used to enjoy. The action is what is important, anyway. All the rest is just chatter.

Post title from Walt Whitman, my favorite poet.

I Should Be Making Muffins

Our CSA kick off party has been rescheduled twice due to unusual amounts of spring thunderstorms. Tonight is the night, and as it's a pot luck I should be making blueberry banana muffins to bring along. But I grated my pointer finger last night while zesting some lemons and shredding garlic cloves, and anything to do with dishes/baking/mixing is pretty much annoying.

You know what else is annoying? When a garbage truck nearly runs me over while I'm biking to the gym.

Another thing that is annoying? When I start a new blog with high hopes of working on a new project, and then the wind in my sails just sputters out to a pitiful stream of box fan in the window breeze. And when there is a box fan in the window, well, I'd rather be napping on my down comforter than typing up thoughtful posts.

On the life front, school is all wrapped up and ready to go and our summer travel plans are nailed down - one trip down, two to go. Oh, right! I still need to post about that one trip down... oops. I did 70 miles on my bike last week, and I'm excited about C25K again. The library continues to bless me with heaps of new and interesting books, most recently a crazy one called "The Information" that's blowing my mind (non-fiction).

Honestly the scanning in my diaries project is going a bit slow because I'm reading through them to figure out what I care to keep and what is just toe curling embarrassing. Inevitably there are chapters of stomach wrenching sadness, or sheets of anger, or a forgotten story somewhere between 15 and 18 that gives me a jolt. I mean, I suppose that's why we keep diaries- to remember. I haven't come across it yet, but I distinctly recall writing an entry sometime around the 6th grade, right after I had read "Anne Frank". I was a bit paranoid that I was going to die and my family, desperate to connect with me, would begin to peruse my diaries. Alternatively, I imagined that they would somehow be found decades after my death, and be published as some sort of "normal life of a pre-teen in the early 90's" compilation. Really. It's ok, you can laugh at my self centered pre-teen fears. I am. What's incredibly strange to me, as the author of these random little books, is that I feel as though *I* am snooping into that other Cortney's life. Sometimes when I'm thumbing through what was my beloved Lisa Frank diary (4th-5th grade), I get a tingling of guilt on the back of my neck. I feel so very different from the child who wrote those words that it's as though I'm intruding on her- my- privacy. Isn't that strange? Even as I sit here at the dining room table, I can glance over the scanner and see a variety of different books, all heavy laden with my own thoughts, from as recently as 2008 to as far away as 1991. They have... a presence. They're literally holding my life in them. Some of the pages were ripped out and shredded. Others were edited out. Oh, before you go protesting my revision of history, please understand- these are not things I want others to ever read about me. These are personal, often painful, and brutally honest things that were tormenting my mind, that I had to get. out. of. my. head. They needed to be hunted down, and trapped, and then drawn out and pinned to the paper. But they don't really, not at all, need to be read again. Not by me, and certainly not by anyone else. I remember one of my Dad's friends saying she had two diaries. One was her record keeping diary. Something her children could have when she died, to look back on, and read about her life and the things she did and the memories she saved. The other? That one was to be burned upon her death. No one was to read it. I knew, as soon as she said it, that I had a lot of "burn upon my death" entries. I was only 12, but I knew intrinsically that there are some thoughts that must get out, but they also must be kept to oneself. And so my diaries and I worked our way through my life. I know writing in them has kept me sane, has calmed me down, and has helped me work through struggles and fears, anger and depression. In the end, some of the sharper edges, and finer points, and murky darkness around that process can be torn out, shredded, edited. I can keep enough to still tell the story, without feeling so vulnerable. In the end, I don't need a piece of paper with my crooked writing on it to remind me of those thoughts- if they were sacred and scary enough to be torn from a diary, trust me, the words are etched pretty deeply inside of me.

I hope to have the diary project wrapped up and put to rest by the end of June. I think I'll make it, since I've been spending all of May reading into my past, scanning these pages like retroactive tea leaves. We're halfway through June, so I should be able to finish the processing stage and head on to the drudgery of the whizz hum grumble of the old scanner.

But for now I need to make those muffins.

Unencumbered- Thoughts from a Reformed Packrat

 "Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language, and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and enjoying.  The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having things."  ~Elise Boulding

So often in conversations of simplifying, or living with less, or downsizing, the focus tends to be on everything one must give up. To me, living with less and having (relatively) few possessions is not about deprivation- I think an apartment or home that is more empty than full feels amazing. I get so many palpable benefits of doing so that I don't see it as a chore, I see it as something that gives me freedom. When Bobby and I moved this last time, we were able to pack our entire house in about 6 hours, including breaks, singing stupid songs, eating, and dawdling a bit as we sorted things and really took a ruthless eye to a pre-move culling session. Plus, since Bobby was having to physically move, I told him he only had to pack the study and the outside shed, so one person did the brunt of packing and it still went by pretty quickly. We took the following two pictures after we were done. You're looking at everything we own, minus our bed, Bobby's computer desk, and the dining room table- all of which we were still using up until the day of move out.

View from the dining room plus my creepy face

View from the kitchen plus my creepsauce face again

This includes all of the gear and supplies for all of our hobbies- both of our bikes, exercise equipment and yoga paraphernalia, books, yarn/materials/sewing supplies, Bobby's tools and saw, and a crap load of camping stuff. I know, compared to some super simple living gurus, that this is still a lot of stuff for two adults. But I think, on average, it is far, far less. Because of this we don't have to spend more on housing than we need, we don't have to rent storage sheds, and most importantly it is a lot easier to maintain our relatively nomadic lifestyle. Moving is usually not very fun or easy, regardless of how little one owns, but I can tell you, as a reformed pack rat, that it is much more fun and easy without having to break one's back over boxes of crap that are, in the grand scheme of things, useless.



Speaking of useless crap, I'm a big fan of quarterly culling. Four times a year, I sift through my possessions and glean out that which is no longer serving me. Sure, it usually ends up just being a few items, but I'd rather have a few items that I can easily drop off at Goodwill on the way to the grocery store instead of having to dig through mountains of stuff every few years. I've also found that this makes me a lot more ruthless with getting rid of things- if it's not seasonal and it hasn't served me in the last 3 months, why am I paying rent on it? I know that so many people (myself included, for many years) are afraid of getting rid of something and then needing it. I'm here to assure you that I have been ruthlessly bootin' my stuff to the curb (ok, not really the curb, Goodwill or friends who need/ want it) since 2005 and I have never, not once, given away something that I later needed/wanted back. Never. And you know what? If you give something away and you really, really need it then at least you know you really, really need it and you can get another one. Craigslist, thrift stores, and people like me are good places to find free or cheap goods if you really need to replace something you tossed aside a little too hastily.

I know many people have very sentimental attachments to things, for various emotional reasons, but I personally don't, with very few exceptions, which I can count on one hand. To me, the only things I cannot replace in this life are pictures and various very personal mementos like diaries or letters from loved ones. That's precisely why I undertook the photo project that ended up taking far longer than I ever could have imagined. But now it's done, the pictures are safe in digital form, and a huge chunk (maybe half, at last count) have been given away now that I'm not the only person holding the keys to my family's cumulative picture memory box. I'm about to start scanning in my old diaries, so that I can get rid of them as well (most are written in spiral notebooks in pencil which is starting to fade, anyway). Don't get me wrong, I still have a beautiful, small cedar chest that my Great Granny gave me, which holds things like said diaries and mementos. But you know what? I cull from that, too. Because trust me, the things I thought I would treasure forever at 18? Yeah, some of them went straight in the recycling bin last month when I sorted through it.

If you had told me at 18 how very different I would be in terms of material possessions by 22, I probably wouldn't have believed you. And if you had told me at even 22 how different I would be by 28, I wouldn't have believed that, either. The point is that sometimes you have to force yourself to just do it, to start choosing to live with less, get rid of some things, and stop accumulating more things. And very soon after, you might find that you don't miss it at all. I want to reiterate that I am FAR from a simple living guru. There are tons of great blogs out there on that topic, and I certainly can't claim to have whittled my possessions down to 100 things- and I don't desire to (at least not now, we'll see where another 5 years gets me). In the end, I just know that I am so glad that I am not drowning in stuff anymore.

Airport Literature

Arielle was set to fly into Denver this morning from Boston. Unfortunately, due to a variety of events that cumulatively conspired against her, she missed that flight by 8 minutes. She is now wandering about an airport, amusing herself without the aid of her laptop (the battery to which was, unfortunately, left behind, dutifully plugged into the wall). She called to let me know that I'd be picking her up at 10:22 p.m. instead of 10:02 a.m. She also told me that she has decided to go ahead and start writing her book, since that's all she can do for the next 12 hours. Pen and paper, old school style.

We had a good long conversation about writing, and blogs, and social networking, and whether or not Twitter is something that I need to do (she says yes, I say eh). When I got off the phone, I started thinking about how Arielle is finally starting to write her book thanks to being forced into a situation where she has no other distractions. All it took was forgetting a charger, and missing a flight- two seemingly unrelated (and on the surface, negative) events.

This leads me to wonder- what am I letting distract me? What are you letting distract you? It might be something that isn't even readily apparent as a distraction. Which makes it all the more difficult, I suppose. I have to put a critical eye to almost everything in that case. That's pretty daunting. Even so, I'm glad I have plucky, roll with the punches kind of friends to make me think about things like this.

Here's to Arielle's book. And your book, and my book, whatever that might be for each of us.

Back to Basics

Tulip Festival, Japan, 2006

Dear 23 Year Old English Teacher Blogger Me- Thanks for writing all that stuff down. 28 Year Old Me would have totally forgotten such random and ridiculous situations, observations, and rants.

Okay, kittens, I think it's time to get back to the storytime aspects of this blog. Lately I feel like I've gotten too wrapped up in cut and dry documenting/picture posting instead of actually, you know, writing stories. I went back today and read a few posts from my old blog during my time in Japan, and it reminded me of why I started blogging in the first place- to share random bits and pieces of the junk that tumble rumbles around in my brain. It might be weird, tangential, sometimes irreverent, often blunt, but that's what it is. I think lately it's just been easier to upload a grip of pictures, caption them, and call it good. I know I've also been so distracted with all the "to-do's" of my life that the thought of writing a more involved, spontaneous, "let's see where this goes" kind of blog post is a meandering writing luxury that I have convinced myself I don't have time for.

I'm going to stop being lazy when it comes to sharing that last little bit. I'm just going to clack away on my computer until I get that familiar feeling of my brain being wrung out like a sponge, when I know that whatever thoughts that have been banging insistently on the back of my eyes all day are finally enjoying their new post-sized home on the internet. For now though, I'm going to curl up with a book. I know, I know, it's Friday but seriously, the last two weeks have been jam packed with fun and adventure, and this weekend will be jam packed with studying, so I'm going to seize some rest and relaxation wherever I can find it. And right now that is in bed, curled up with a fleece blanket, reading about germs and weapons shaping civilization. Because if anything says "party hard, it's the weekend", it's a global social history about biological pressures and inventions shaping civilization. I'll just have to try not to wake the neighbors with my weekend literary shenanigans.

Good Influences

This last week I've been prepping for the PLACE exam with my study guide from inter-library loan.
Well, to be more accurate- on Monday I skimmed the book and took the practice test, on Tuesday I post-it noted it and devised a study guide to encompass the 5 weeks I have to prep, and on Wednesday I didn't do a damn thing related to studying because it was my birthday. I chose to watch "Teen Mom 2" on MTV.com (blame Jezebel for that, I don't have cable or a TV and was blissfully unaware of that show until I read an article about it on that site) while eating pizza and drinking Cherry Coke. But I digress...

Today was my first actual day of studying. The test covers 22 competencies, and since I have 5 weeks I decided that I would work through the book twice by doing 1-11 in Week 1, 12-22 in Week 2, and repeating the same schedule for Weeks 3 and 4. Week 5 will be devoted to reviewing anything I need extra prep on. So tonight I sat down to knock out competencies 1-5 (I plan to do 6-11 tomorrow so that my birthday weekend can be entirely devoted to fun). The first 5 competencies are the most dense, covering basic literary terms, historical experiences that inform writers' work, and separate competencies in British and World Lit, American Lit, and Young Adult Lit and Childhood Development. It has been a good decade since I reviewed things like periods and movements in literature, and timelines of literary works, etc. So it was an immense relief to me to realize that I had read about 90% of the books referenced in each period/movement. The study guide would be talking about Romanticism, and oh look, every.single.book. they used as an example is a book I have read. And I remembered the authors, and other books they had written that were not referenced. Having such vivid memories of reading those books really helps solidify the peripheral info of dates and places and history.

It made me really, really grateful for being well read. Lest you think that is obscenely egotistical, let me clarify- I'm grateful that a love of reading was instilled in me. I'm grateful that my parents bought me books and put up with my C's in conduct in elementary school because I would read when I "wasn't supposed to". Side note- um, what was my teacher thinking?? I got C's in conduct for reading when I "wasn't supposed to"?? I'm grateful to my 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Cunningham for encouraging me to write stories and for letting me borrow her books. I'm grateful to my 5th grade teacher Mr. Parks, who let me totally ignore him in the back of the room when I would finish my work quickly and then read books while he lectured. And I'm exceptionally, over the moon grateful to Mrs. Clement. She was my English and Spanish teacher all through high school. She pushed me to read classics by refusing to give out A's on book reports unless they were over classics. She helped me study for competitions in Literary Criticism for U.I.L., and was proud of me when I competed at State both years I participated. She let all of us students ramble about our lives and complain about our frustrations in class, and she somehow had the perfect balance of free form conversational time and get down to business you WILL LEARN PROPER GRAMMAR seriousness.

I'm infinitely less stressed about this test now than I was before. But for now, it's bed time. And I want to get some reading in before I drift off to sleep.

Well, wait, one last thing. Speaking of sleep, the study guide referenced one of my all time favorite short stories, The Circular Ruins by Jorge Luis Borges. Here's one of my favorite quotes:

"He dreamed that it was warm, secret, about the size of a clenched fist, and of a garnet color within the penumbra of a human body as yet without face or sex; during fourteen lucid nights he dreampt of it with meticulous love. Every night he perceived it more clearly. He did not touch it; he only permitted himself to witness it, to observe it, and occasionally to rectify it with a glance. He perceived it and lived it from all angles and distances. On the fourteenth night he lightly touched the pulmonary artery with his index finger, then the whole heart, outside and inside. He was satisfied with the examination. He deliberately did not dream for a night; he took up the heart again, invoked the name of a planet, and undertook the vision of another of the principle organs. Within a year he had come to the skeleton and the eyelids. The innumerable hair was perhaps the most difficult task. He dreamed an entire man--a young man, but who did not sit up or talk, who was unable to open his eyes. Night after night, the man dreamt him asleep."

28 on 3/9

First birthday, 1984. Oh yeah, cake is goooood.

A birthday post naturally includes mom too :) Love you and thanks for the birthday!

Today is my 28th birthday. So far, it's been great- I woke up to birthday wishes from Bobby, ran W1D2 of C25K, and have been showered with lots of birthday love via FB, texts, and phone calls. All in all I'm very happy to be turning 28. I was thinking about how much fun I've had in my 20's, and I believe that is part of why I'm not freaking out about turning 28 (turning 27 last year was a lot more strange for me because it felt so much further away from 25 than 26, don't ask my why). I can't say there is anything I've wanted to do that I haven't done so far. If I had put my dreams on hold, or not gone on the adventures I wanted to go on (living in Japan and traveling), or not paid off my debt and completed my master's degree (two big goals I set for myself upon returning home from Japan) I might feel differently. I'm also happy and content to be settled down with Bobby, because I had plenty of time being single, dating around, and generally enjoying a second round of college life as a grad student. I feel like I've been an active participant in my life thus far, making the choices I wanted to, and I'm happy with those choices- the good and the bad. I'm also so very grateful to be able to make such choices, because I know so many people in this world (especially women) don't have the same opportunities.

At this point I'm excited to see where late 20's/early 30's takes me. I've thoroughly enjoyed my past, and I'm grateful for the experiences, but I'm not pining for it. And I'm not worried about the future, or stepping into the 30's soon. I guess what I've learned is that getting older is a lot less scary if you're truly living your life the way you want to. I will fully admit that 28 is a far cry from getting older as we traditionally define it, but right now it's the oldest I've ever been, so I'm just working off of what I know so far :) Lastly, this might be a weird thing to include on a birthday post, but I really love this lecture. I particularly love the part about enabling the dreams of others...

Preparations

Bobby and I will be on a plane- ok, actually, several planes- in a hair over a week from now, heading to Jordan for this trip and then to Egypt for this trip. We'll be in Jordan February 2nd-7th, and then *another* plane will take us to Cairo on the 7th, where we will stay until we get on *another* plane to come home the morning of the 16th. I know all the blogging "rules" about not letting people know when you'll be out of town. But we are taking both of our cameras and our laptops with us, as well as pertinent I.D.'s like passports and driver's licenses, so literally that leaves an apartment filled with possessions purchased second hand from thrift stores that total, not kidding at all here, less than $200. So, if anyone out there in the world wants to come steal our 1950's orange flower loveseats that we bought for $5 a pop, have at it.

Bobby and I took care of the most pertinent preparations back in December when we ordered our visas. But we have been doing other things to prepare. First and foremost, I've been working on my fear of flying. I'm working on this in three ways. One, I'm reading "The Culture of Fear", an excellent book that conveniently is on Jenna's book club this month. I've owned the book for about a year now, and I've skimmed it, reading certain chapters, but I never read it cover to cover. I started with the fear of flying chapter, then started at the beginning and will read all the way through, re-reading the fear of flying chapter again. Another step I am taking is going through this free online course. I started it at the beginning of the week, and I hope to get through it three total times before we leave. I would highly suggest it if you have a fear of flying, or if you are a nervous flyer. And "enrolling" is literally just clicking on what you fear and then beginning. You don't have to give them any info, not even an e-mail address. I'm really enjoying it so far. The third and final way I'm dealing with my fear is by writing about it here, and being honest about it, even if it kind of embarrasses me and makes me feel ignorant and ridiculous. I'm also writing about it in a personal journal.

The second big preparation underway before we leave is educating ourselves on the countries we will be visiting. Bobby's parents sent us a lecture series on Egypt that is 48 lectures long, at 30 minutes a piece. It is just a professor standing at a lectern talking about Egypt, but it is riveting. I am learning so much about Egypt and its history that is blowing my mind. I wish we had something similar for Jordan, but since we don't I've been researching for good videos and websites of information. I'm also reading National Geographic's Egypt book for travelers. It covers some history, which reinforces the lectures, but in addition it is giving me a detailed understanding of the geography and the specific cities in Egypt. Speaking of National Geographic, we received our itinerary at the end of last week, along with baggage tags, name tags, and some rather dorky hats that I made Bobby promise not to wear...

This weekend and next week will be filled with finishing up the lecture series and my fear of flying course, as well as packing. I've never gone anywhere on vacation for as long as two weeks, and I hope to pack outfits for a week- that can be mixed and matched- and then just wash them somewhere halfway through the trip. I love to travel light so this is by no means a sacrifice, I prefer it. If anyone out there wants to send me some good thoughts for anxiety free flights they will be enthusiastically and gratefully received!

23 and Me

I mentioned in my Christmas post that Bobby gave me a complete DNA mapping from the company 23 and Me- you can check out their website here. The complete package covers both ancestry and health, so I'll know way more than I ever thought I would about my genes and my body. I'm a science nerd on the side, so I find this incredibly fascinating. I sent off my info about a week ago, and the process was pretty simple on my end.

Everything I needed came in this little box.

I had to wait 30 minutes after eating, drinking, or brushing my teeth before spitting in this tube.

Instructions on how to seal off the tube and how to correctly collect the sample.

When you're done spitting...and spitting...and spitting some more, you pop the tube in this specimen bag (I took these pics of the process before actually spitting in the tube, I didn't think you all really needed to be treated to the sight of a tube filled with my frothy spit...I could be wrong though. Better safe than sorry.)

And then the specimen bag goes in this postage paid bubble wrap envelope. It's all so...small, neat, and simple. Then you head on over to their website and create a profile and register your kit with your name and the barcode that was printed on the tube. And that's it! You just sit back and wait while people in a lab far away figure out the deepest secrets of your genetics.

It's hard to believe that a mere decade or so after the initial draft of the human genome was published, and about 8 years after the project was complete, I can, as a random consumer, send off some spit in a tube and in 6-8 weeks at max receive such detailed scientific information. What's also cool is that they compile the information (anonymously, of course) so that they can do research on disease- what causes it, how to prevent it, what demographics of people are more susceptible to certain illnesses, etc. So, on top of it being a fun personal thing for me to do, it's helping aid scientific research. Plus, I can't emphasize how excited I am about he ancestry portion of it. I know my ancestry definitively going back to my Great Granny's grandmother, but after that things get fuzzy. One of my future projects is to do some genealogical work, and I think the ancestry component of the DNA mapping will give me some interesting insight on that.

One last thing though. I do plan on doing a follow up post when I get my results, but some of it may need to be a bit vague. This is for both personal privacy and practical reasons. They do advise you not to share, publicly, any risk factors for disease that you are made aware of. This is because they don't want anyone unfairly discriminated against by health insurance companies. Because a risk factor is just that- you have a risk for a certain disease. It's not a diagnosis, and you may never ever get that certain disease. But, if you trumpet all over the world "whoa, I totally have the gene for breast cancer, scary!", then you may be excluded from getting health insurance on those bounds. Which is weird, because that's basically a "hypothetical pre-pre-existing condition...maybe...someday...or...maybe never at all". Interestingly enough, I discovered that the U.S. passed a law in 2008 called the Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act, or GINA for short, to specifically protect people from being discriminated against for genetic markers for disease. You are, in theory, protected from being discriminated against when it comes to plain Jane health insurance (although many women who tested positive for the BRCA gene, indicating a higher than normal breast cancer risk, have reported being denied health insurance). Unfortunately, the law does not cover life/disability/or long term care insurance. I find it a bit strange that they would specifically pass a law to protect people, but only protect them (kinda sorta) in the area of health insurance.

At any rate, I'm excited to get my results and share the experience I had with the company! I'm still in awe of the huge advances in science that have been made in my lifetime and I think it's rad that I can take part in it like this.

2011 Goals, or, This Post May Come Back to Shame Me in 2012

postcard I purchased in the subway my first week in Japan

I know most people did this post around January 3rd, but the first week of January I was busy enjoying J-Ben and P!'s visit, and then recapping it. So, let's just forgive my tardiness and get on with it :)

I am not a fan of New Year's Resolutions, for a few reasons I'll speak to in generalities. For one, I'm a goal setting, list making, project tackling kind of person. I tend to make frequent goals- on the order of monthly, or weekly, or, when I was in school, semester-ly (that's a word, right?). Plus, New Year's Resolutions seem to often be the only goal setting some people make, ever. As a result, they usually make ambiguous, fuzzy around the edges goals that are hard to quantify and make it nigh unto impossible to assess progress. Or, they make grand sweeping goals that are kind of impossible to achieve. Also, because this is the only time of the year that they might make goals, they are not used to working towards them and making a plan to achieve them. Because of these two problems, New Year's Resolutions have (rightly so) acquired the stereotype of being unachievable, hazy feel good-y type wishes that are uttered into the drunken atmosphere of a New Year's party at 2 a.m., or written haphazardly on a scrap of napkin at a diner where one is eating off the New Year's hangover. Ok, that's a little much, but I got carried away with the imagery...my point is, I think New Year's Resolutions are the surest way to jinx oneself into not accomplishing said resolutions, simply by cursing them with the name "resolutions". So, my two step solution (I'm no expert, just a girl with a free blogger account) is to a) make goals consistently throughout the year and b) make yearly goals that are quantifiable and measurable. For example, one of my 2011 goals is to read 52 books. That can work out to 1 book a week, or it can work out to book heavy months and book lean months. As long as I have 52 titles by the end of the year, I'm golden. Although, I honestly hope I'm not reading the final 38 books between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Here are my 2011 goals, categorized in ways that made sense to me. I've left out some of the specifics of implementation so that this already rambly and navel gazing post doesn't become 1,435 pages long, but you'll get the general idea.

Food and Fitness

Do at least two cardio workouts a week + three additional workouts (any type including yoga)

Get down to one soda and one coffee per week or less

Give C25K another try (applies to cardio workout goal above)

Misc Goals and Projects

West Coast Swing lessons- aim for once a week, go at least twice a month; belly dancing lessons on Sundays

Finish rainbow quilt, blue crocheted baby blanket, and Kate’s quilt- work on similar projects at least twice a month

Scan in journals/letters/cards; finish editing pictures & deleting unwanted pics; organizing files

Update blog at least twice a week/creative writing once a week

Career and Finances

Continue to volunteer with SSI and VE & complete Community Based Development Certificate

Begin Teacher Certification program and internship in August

Try to find a part time job that works around current internships

Personal Improvement

Read one book a week/52 books in a year

Regular Spanish study- Rosetta Stone, books, Spanish Word of the Day- at least 3 times a week

No more than one hour of internet during weekdays

Travel To-Do

Montana and Yellowstone Nat’l Park

Badlands

Go to at least one hot springs location

Travel to Denver and Boulder at least twice each for events or day trips

See a concert at Red Rocks

Travel to Texas at end of HP contract for an extended amount of time

Family

Call all grandparents and parents at least once a month/ Send more mail (specifically to Great Granny monthly)

____________________________________

A few notes: The one hour of internet daily ties into the read more books thing. I found that I have become a newshound. I can easily spend two hours a day reading BBC and NPR. While I don't want to be any less informed, I don't appreciate that way that my reading of books has been edged out a bit by my reading of news. The West Coast Swing lessons are something Bobby and I started back in Dallas- he invited to them for one of our first dates- and we both love them. Since we kind of need each other to accomplish that goal, it's on both of our lists. Speaking of Bobby, we actually sat down together and I typed up both of our lists, since a few things depended on one another- especially our travel goals. We want to make sure we fully explore this part of the world while we're living here, hence the travel to-do list. We also served as good sounding boards for one another, asking probing questions about goal ideas, getting honest feedback about realistic expectations, etc. Lastly, in regards to the food and fitness area. I am a fit person, but my cardio health is sorely lacking and as a former long distance runner this is annoying to me and I want to fix it. I tried to start C25K back in

September, but then I jinxed my hip. So here's hoping I'll be able to actually do it this time. If not, I'm giving myself a guilt free pass if I don't accomplish that goal. Biology and bones are tricky things to persuade, regardless of how much one might want to.

In addition to my goal list, I have one more thing. A theme for 2011, if you will. An overarching philosophy that I will seek to apply to my daily doings. It is two part and they go hand in hand:
1) Master my fear, or at least not let it control me (please see my

fear of flying and my fear of being eaten by bears)

2) Make decisions with confidence (please see my trepidation and back pedaling when it comes to making decisions here).

The second is born of the problem of the first. I'm afraid of making the wrong decision, so then I don't make any decision, and then I'm frustrated for not making a decision, and all that comes from my fear. This is cheesy, but yes, "master my fear" is totally a quote stolen from "The Golden Compass". And, while we're at it, here's a good quote about making decisions:

"Will considered what to do. When you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don't take are snuffed out like candles, as if they'd never existed. At the moment all Will's choices existed at once. But to keep them all in existence meant doing nothing. He had to choose, after all". - The Amber Spyglass

Too often, I operate under the false assumption that by putting off decisions I am somehow gaining by not making a wrong decision. I mean, I have so many options, but once I choose, I only have the option I chose. But, um, that's kind of the point. I'm not gaining anything by not choosing, because I'm not doing anything.

So, there you have it. I think I'll be writing a monthly post checking in with my 2011 goals, just to see how I'm doing and to be accountable.

Here's to 2011 my friends. It will be as good as we choose to make it.

New Year's Eves of Yesteryear...

After writing about our celebrations this year for the 31st in the previous two posts, I'm feeling a bit nostalgic around New Year's Eve. As a non-drinker I'm not swayed solely by crazy drink specials and free champagne at midnight when it comes to making a decision for how I want to spend New Year's. I'm also not one who thinks it is of the utmost importance to do something insane, but I like to at least do something, and stay up until twelve doing that something. Like many people, I have spent a few New Year's Eves at various house parties. Many were fun but one in particular stands out. My sophomore year of college we drove about an hour away from Dallas to a friend of a friend's party in the middle of the country. I was stuck on a porch swing while the people around me drank copious amounts of beer, ate BBQ, and sang karaoke. By the end of the night the host pulled a shotgun on someone. The friend who brought us passed out drunk, and was unable to give us directions on how to leave. We slept on the floor, and left at 6 a.m. on New Year's Day. We ate a grateful breakfast at Whataburger and made lots of hillbilly jokes. Another New Year's Eve that comes to mind is when I was 14, and my dad, my uncle, and my cousins all descended upon Deep Ellum and West End in Dallas and spent the night walking from music venue to music venue, concert hopping, before ringing in the New Year at a huge pub. I'm sure you can imagine it was *so cool* to my fourteen year old self to be roaming about downtown Dallas with the grownups. The year I lived in Japan I celebrated in Tokyo with my friend and her sister and another friend. We were on our way to a club in Roppongi and it was about to strike midnight, so in between trains we had our own mini-celebration. I think I have a picture... oh yes! Here it is-

(I'm second from left)

There are a few years here and there where I spent the night at a concert in a local venue. The year I returned home from Japan I rang in 2007 at a fantastic funk concert with two of my best friends. There was lots of dancing and singing and we made friends with pretty much everyone in the bar I think. And then there were a few- maybe 3?- New Year's Eves when I babysat. That's how I spent last year in fact. Me, Bobby, and 3 of our friends babysat my little step-brothers while my parents went out. We made pizza and cookies, the kids played X-Box, and all of the adults hung out on the back patio and drank coffee while we talked and reminisced on the past year and made resolutions for the new one. I have some pictures from that night too-

(our glasses were filled with sparkling cider like responsible babysitters)

Honestly I resent New Year's Eve a *tiny* bit in much the same way I resent Valentine's Day. Both days have silly expectations of embodying the best night out (NYE)/most romantic day of the year(V Day). You might have a fabulous social life, but decide to stay in on NYE, and for some inane reason that's considered some kind of entertainment tragedy. I like to celebrate because I like to celebrate things, but I was just as happy babysitting last year as I was concert hopping or dancing all night or riding trains in Tokyo. I think the trick with enjoying most things is not placing too many expectations on it. If I assumed every NYE would be an out of control night out I would have been disappointed a lot. Instead, I was able to enjoy whatever came my way. I hope whatever came your way this December 31st was enjoyable as well :)

In Which I Use Copious Amounts of Text to Explore My Quarter Life Crisis

Somewhere in New Mexico, September 2009

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what to do next. Or, I suppose, what to do *now*. In August of 09 I was laid off, having just made my last monthly payment to pay off all my debt in this world, save some student loans. I had some money in savings. I had no mortgage to hold me in one place, and no more outrageous monthly debt payments that required me to take the highest paying job I could find, regardless of whether it was anything I was even remotely interested in. I had no children, nor even any pets, so I was only responsible for taking care of myself, which allowed for much more creativity and flexibility in where I lived, and furthermore how I lived- couch surfing, for example, is much easier solo than with, say, 2 cats, a dog, and a 4 year old in tow. I was young and healthy, so despite being unemployed I was able to get fair health insurance for about $100 a month. So I spent the last semester of school writing my thesis, furiously applying for jobs, and taking advantage of my unemployed status by moving to California to live in Hollywood with my good friend Jess. I bookended my California stay with a 3 week long road trip to get there in the first place, and wrapped it up with an Amtrak ride from L.A. to Seattle, then back down to San Francisco, then back to L.A. to meet up with Bobby and road trip back home to Texas in time for Thanksgiving and a final edit of my thesis. When I graduated in December of 09 with my hard earned masters degree- until my unemployment I had worked full time and gone to school full time- I was finally closing in on a job lead. It was not my dream job, but a very good paying job that would allow me to live in my studio apartment downtown, 4 miles from work, and pay off my student loans while saving to leave the country (I’d been planning a one to two year jaunt that had been scheduled to begin May 2010, but would now be pushed back to May 2011). After several interviews over two months I landed the job in February, and started training in March. And halfway through March? Bobby got a job in Colorado…that started in two weeks. Since you all know I’m living in Colorado now it’s not hard to know that I chose to move to Colorado with Bobby. Our original plan was that we’d be here one year. I looked for jobs (and am still looking for jobs) but our college town is rather small and jobs are hard to come by. So, I took on the two internships I’m currently working through, as well as the volunteer shifts with the no-kill shelter, plus online classes towards a post-grad certificate. I assumed I’d keep myself busy this year, and come May 2011 we’d leave the country...

But now? We’re kind of re-thinking that plan. Bobby has a very good job with a tech company, doing all sorts of crazy computer science software development things that I’m pretty sure are witchcraft, and whatever magic he’s doing with programs makes him very happy. It seems foolish, in this terrible economy, to exit the job market without another job in hand. Unfortunately his job is not work from home friendly at the moment, so that isn’t an option. All of this led to us hanging out in the hot tub for about two hours a week ago, talking about potentially changing our “one year in Colorado” plan. Now, it looks like we’ll be here another year. Which leaves Bobby in the exact same position, working for the same company, good to go and happy about it. And I’m happy for him. But as for me? Interning and volunteering keep me busy, but I’m used to being VERY busy. I mean, I’m the girl that took 4 grad classes while working full time, serving as the Democratic Precinct chair in Dallas, campaigning weekends for Obama, and dating 3 or 4 boys at once while going to the gym 3 times a week and also somehow managing to do things like shower and eat and sleep sometimes. I thrive on busy. And while this year I’ve been clocking around 30 to 40 hours a week between my internships, volunteer duties, class work, and housework/cleaning/errands, I miss being breakneck, productive, I-am-a-mistress-of-productivity watch me work and bow in awe at my organizational skills kind of busy. I get so much more done the more I have to do.

So, the point of this insanely long navel gazing post is that I’m now wondering what I need to do next year. When we were just going to be here for one year before skipping off to back pack through Europe and pick fruit on organic farms in exchange for room and board, a “just for now to make money” job was fine. But bordering on two years seems to be presenting itself as an opportunity to start making some grown-up choices about future careers. I find myself perusing the course listings at the local university to see what kind of a “this is what I am, so hire me” degree I can get. Mostly, I’m trying to get licensed as a teacher. I would always say- back when my leave the country plan was May 2010, before the unemployment spell that set it back a year- that I wished I had a teaching degree before I left the country, because then I could teach at international schools, instead of just teaching English. I actually really enjoyed teaching English, but most of what I didn’t enjoy was directly related to not speaking the same language as my students, and not being able to build a rapport with them very easily as a result. If I was, say, teaching social studies in Germany at an international school like my friend did, most of my struggles with teaching would be gone. Not that teaching is ever going to be easy! I’ve had a manual labor job, driving a forklift for 6 days a week, sometimes up to 12 hours a day in Kansas summer heat, and I’ve worked long shifts as a waitress under a despotic boss who didn’t understand things like breaks and lunch time, yet teaching left me more exhausted most days than either of those jobs. But it was a good exhausted.

So right now I’m spending hours researching Colorado requirements, and tests, and costs. But I’m also second guessing spending that much time on getting certified, because while I enjoy teaching it still feels very much like a “just for now” career. I suppose that’s fine though. It’s something I enjoy, and if it allows us to live in an apartment instead of a tent while traveling all the better. Although, is it weird that a part of me prefers the tent? Really all this comes down to the fact that, ironically, the problem is precisely what I detailed waaaaaay up there in the first paragraph- I have too many options. I don’t have anything that is swaying my decision one way or the other. Bobby was enamored with the idea of my world traveling trip from our first date, so I know he’s on board, and he’s really the only other human in my direct sphere of interaction impacting what I do. He’s also so very supportive of anything I want to do- from law school to teaching to anything I happen to be talking about at the moment. He understands that he’s set, and I’m still figuring things out. The problem is that it’s truly all wide open. And sometimes all that wide open space, the endless possibilities, can be overwhelming. There isn’t a big, blatant, “This is the right way to go” sign. There is no right answer. It’s harder than you might think to deal with all that open space. With no fences or roads or blocked off areas the freedom sometimes paralyzes me with indecision, because I can’t automatically ignore this area or that possibility due to x,y,z constraints. Nope, it’s pretty much all available to me. There is no right answer. There is no right answer. I just need to say it enough until I believe it. That way I can make a decision about what to do next without immediately thinking “but is that the right thing to do?”


This long ramble was inspired by this post at a blog I love- http://catelinden.com/simplicity/the-paradox-of-choice/

A Bit Wrung Out

I'm tired kittens. Super deep down weary. Between the two non-profits I intern with I've been so busy the last few weeks, but it's a constant busy, the kind of busy that is naturally fuzzy and without borders due to working weekend shifts at info booths, or answering e-mails at 11 p.m., or reading scholarly journals on Sundays at 10 a.m., or getting random assignments and making day before the event commitments to work.

I'm loving all of it, but I also love schedules, and order, and it's hard to come by when one is working for two different organizations. The people I work for are amazing, I believe in what they do, it's the direction I'd like my career to go in, but I definitely need to find a way to "clock out", as it were. I always say "I'm just going to check my e-mail twice a day, morning and night" and instead I check it about once an hour for one organization, while I'm on the computer researching for the other. It creates this feeling of constantly working. And while I love to work, I also like downtime.

Maybe I can get better about self-organization. I was always really good about motivating myself to create and stick to study schedules while I was working and going to school, both full time, so I just need to do the same for my interning. I am so happy I get to do the work that I'm doing, and I'm grateful for everything I'm learning, I just need to balance it a bit.

I've always been at my best when I'm at my busiest, but it was usually a healthy mix of school, work, volunteering, socializing, and working out. Now it's just a bit too skewed towards work (which is, of course, volunteering), and all the other pieces are getting edged out. Plus, because I was a Democratic Precinct chair in Dallas, and an Obama Precinct Captain, and a delegate to the Democratic State Convention, I've been getting tons of e-mails about helping out here in Colorado, and I really want to. But right now I'm so all over the place, lacking a set schedule, it's hard to add that to the mix.

That's my goal for October. Balance. It's not a matter of too much work- I've been far busier many times in my life and was pretty stress free- it's just a matter of corralling it. How very Texas of me to use such a metaphor, right?

And Now for Something Completely Different

In my quest to organize my life and the few possessions I've whittled myself down to, I'm not only going through pictures/documents/papers/e-mail, I'm also going through my old myspace blog, as well as the 4 years of writing I've written on this laptop since I purchased it- as an aside, four years later it still works like a champ, thanks Dell! There are a lot of things I'd like to put up on this blog, so every once in a while I think I'm going to post things I've written in the past, that no one but me- or the recipient of my wordy e-mail that day, haha- has seen.

A good example is the e-mail I posted a few days ago, the one I had written to a friend over a summer break in college. I'm also trying to finish up a few writing projects I've had on the back burner for a while, as well as start writing in a more disciplined way. It helps that one of my internships is all about researching and writing, and it's gotten me back in that mindset of reading, researching, and writing in a consistent way. I'd like to start applying that consistency to my personal writings as well. It's no big secret amongst my family and friends that writing is something I've done from a very early age, and something I've excelled in and enjoying doing. So I think it's the perfect time to start paying attention to that.

But all the above aside, I just like writing and I never seem to do as much of it as I want to. Isn't is strange how we sometimes stop doing things we love, if for no other reason than that we forget to do them? I'm trying to remember.

So, This is Who I Am

There is a blog that I read fairly often- usually daily- that surprised even me when it first caught my fancy. It's www.thatwifeblog.com, and it's the blog of a young, married, Mormon housewife. When I started reading it, she had just gotten married, and now about a year and a half later, she's about to have a baby. This woman and I are pretty much polar opposites on a lot of issues, but on many others we see eye to eye. I enjoy her blog, her writing, and her personality. Plus, she takes fabulous pictures and I like my blogs to give me some pictures to go with the stories :) Anyway, what is the point of all of this?

Basically, she has many readers, but also quite a few vehement critics. The same person I experience as poised, principled, and interesting, others view as condescending, judgmental, and selfish. I'm reading the same blog, by the same woman, yet her critics and I are having polar opposite reactions and experiences. This made me realize, as I commented on the blog after a particularly nasty comment, that it really is true that you no matter how wonderful or kind or helpful or sweet or thoughtful or any other positive adjective you think you are being... yeah, some people will just flat out not like you. And since you *know* that, since you *know* that no matter what you do, someone will probably really, really dislike you, it just further reinforces that truth that parents- well, good parents- try to instill in their children. Which is to just be yourself. Try to be the best person you can be, but other than that, give up all the rest of the worry. It isn't worth the time, effort, and trouble to try and please people because in the end those who like you will like you, other people might ignore you, and some people will just hate you no matter what the hell you do.

So, this is who I am. And I really don't care what people, who are hell bent on hating me, think of me. Because I know who I am, the people that hate/dislike me are wasting their life on negativity, and God knows random people, who are probably well loved by others, have sometimes rubbed me the wrong way for God knows what reason. We're people, and we're weird, and the problems come when we start caring about the weirdness, instead of just accepting it and moving on to more important things, like reading blogs and eating dinner with the windows open and a cool breeze coming in.

Ta-da! It's that easy. And with that I'm going to finish eating my fried pickles and black bean burger. Also, the strawberry root beer is pretty fucking fabulous.

Although I'm sure some people would completely hate it ;)