Holiday Break...and this thing we call Christmas

I have so much going around in my head, so much I want to share- I just wish you all had your own plug and could simply use a converter to tap into my outlet and access my thoughts. Yet, unfortunately converters in the sense of plugs only work with things like blow dryers and other such items, although a lot of the time people end up blowing them up anyways. And we wouldn't want to go blowing any of you up, now would we?

So that leaves me to simply divulge the contents of what's all in my head, to take words and weave them together to create a picture of whats going on in my head as well as in my life. And despite my best efforts my thoughts may end up all across the board- but that's just how it comes out sometimes- and that I'm learning is quite alright.

Because things don't always have to be structured and mapped out. Maps are capable of showing you your present location- and they have the ability to show you where you're going- but they can't tell you what all you're going to find when you get there. If you don't know what you will find, have not the slightest clue, that doesn't make you bad or unprepared- it simply makes you human. I used to thrive on structure and plans, I was comfortable with them, but now too much of either causes me to feel as though I'm being suffocated, stiffled. Yes strucutre and plans belong in some places, yet not in others.

I used to place myself in a box of structure- and when choices I made or actions I carried out, fell outside of that box, in my eyes I had failed. I had let people down. Yet it is now that I am able to see, that in straying from my box of strucutre I wasn't letting anyone down- I just had convinced myself I was. I was being harder on myself and placing more judgement on myself than anyone else was.

In regards to that, I see change in myself. I step out of that box of structure I created for myself and I don't beat myself up for doing so. Life is about trial and error, and error shows up quite frequently- I was going to wear myself down if I was so judgemental of myself everytime my trial turned into error. I am growing up, and from here on out my errors will get more complex, it will take more to fix them, reverse them, repair them. But that is okay- these things are what life consists of- they're inevitable, so you might as well learn to deal with them- allow yourself to acknowledge that failure in any area of your life is normal. And ask yourself, "Is it really failure if you learn from it?"

Failure is defined as "a lack of success or adequacy" Yet, isn't that all relative? Success in who's eyes? adequate to whom? Success has come out of a lot of things that I could consider failures, I've learned many things about myself through failure, grown, revised and redited aspects of myself. Failure is a teacher we have been taught to be afraid of, when in truth its the best teacher we will ever have.

Moving swiftly along, let me depict my last week for you- a really good week, filled with various different emotions- highs, lows, and every level inbetween.

Friday- I was simply in a funk that morning, kind of out of it, letting loneliness creep in my thoughts. So i got up, got ready, rode the bus to school, and it really didn't take too long for my funk to end.

As soon as I walk into the classroom my friends call to me " Pod sem!... Pod sem!"
(Come here! Come here!) So i go over and are handed Christmas cards, and then my one friend hands me this envelope, which I tear open only to find this photo collage of all of us friends, with PF written in the middle which is french, and means to congratulate- and is what they send off for good wishes for the new year. And I was happy, and overwhelmed, and I had to hold back tears. My friends here continue to amaze me- continue to blow me away, to do the unexpected.


*This is the picture collage, that almost made me cry*


*and these would be my friends*





During class my friend Lucie, told me that her grandmother had died the previous day, and that she needed a black coat to wear, and it would it be possible for her to borrow my black pea coat I always wear. Of course it was no problem. So after school we went out for coffee with friends and visited about various things, and then Lucie came home with me.

We arrived at my house and I told her she could come in, but she insisted it was okay, she didn't need to, that I could just grab the coat, she didn't want to be a bother. You, see, she knows that it's not my house, and that my host mom was home, and she didn't want to make it awkward for me. I kept insisting she could come in, but she wouldn't hear of it, and I just found that awfully thoughtful of her.

After I grabbed the coat we went back to Lucies house for awhile, and then went and ran errands together, and then I went home.

The afternoon hadn't consisted of anything extremely exciting, but it had been a really good and fullfilling day for me.

Then that night I met up with my friends around 7, and we eventually made our way to a disco and all went dancing, and I got home about 1:15 a.m.

So Friday was a perfect start to break.

And then there is Saturday, and when I break it down Saturday kind of freaks me out. Was quite possibly one of the most obvious "sliding doors" experiences- or at least one of the one's that you actually notice. ( * sliding doors refers to the concept that if one event is slightly altered, for example you miss the train, or you manage to get on it- that one choice will change everything that is to follow)

So Saturday I met up with Julie, one of the other exchange students here, who is from Canada, because we have taken to hanging out when our Czech friends are unavailable, which is quite often.

We meet up, and I decide that I am hungry, so there is this small food court and we decide that pizza sounds good, so we get in line, but when it's our turn we are told that they are all out of pizza.

So then we decide we will go to this other mall (if you can call it that) and eat in that food court, because they too have pizza.

So we get on the bus and we are going along, when we pass McDonalds, and Julie goes jokingly "well, we could always go to Mcdonalds." and I was like, "you know, for some strange reason that actually sounds good to me."

So we made our way off the bus, walked to Mcdonalds, ordered and sat down to eat. And as we are eating I look down and see an add for the movie P.S. I Love You. And I was like " Oh my gosh, this is playing here already?!" ( because for example we didnt get Knocked up here until October) So Julie goes, " Well you want to go see it tonight?" and of course I answered yes.

So we went to the movies, and it was in English and I was so excited, you really don't understand the worth of a movie in english until you live in a place where thats not so often.

The movie was amazing, and touched me in ways it probably didn't touch others. I found myself laughing hysterically one moment, and crying like a big baby the next. The movie consisted of love, loss, relationships, moving on. There was so much in that two hours that toyed with my emotions, and when i walked out of the theater I was still crying...I couldn't stop. And then I started laughing, because when I walked out of the theater with tears running down my face, I got some of the strangest looks from Czech men who had emerged from the movie with their significant other.

And after seeing that movie, I decide my mom needed to also. So i sent her an e-mail, with an attachment, that she was not to read, but to print and keep safely in her purse, until she was waiting for the movie to begin. Because I knew the movie would touch her, in the same way it touched me.

Also, when I got home I told my host parents that I would watch my little host sister, and that they needed to go see the movie also.

Now let's back up a moment shall we- to go through how this was a sliding doors experience.

There had to be no pizza at the first place we tried to eat, because had there been- we would have eaten, and probably would have not aquired knowledge that the movie was playing.


Now you can think I'm crazy, that I've completely lost my mind- but in that playing out I was able to touch my mom- to give her something I wouldn't have had to give her otherwise.

The whole lack of pizza- changed everything.

And that is why this life thing is so complex, and no one can figure it out, because a lack of pizza would generally be overlooked as an insignificant detail- but it turns out it was rather significant.

Sunday- was not very eventful- hung out at home- but then Lucie came over to give me back my coat.
I told her that it wasn't a big deal, that she didn't have to worry about getting it back to me, but she was all worried about it.
So she comes over and calls me from outside the gate to my house, so I go meet her and she hands me this bag- so I take it, assuming that just my coat is in it.
So we talk for awhile, and then I go back inside and take out my coat- but that is not all that's there.
There is also a box of chocolate ( which I shamefully have consumed all by myself)
and a book, "Happiness Is" ( but in czech of course). And once again I was blown away, by the things my friends are doing for me- they've known me three months- and they do for me, as though they've known me much longer.

And then, I had a moment where I just lost it, and I couldn't stop crying. Deep heaving sobs, because I don't want to have to leave all of this behind. Because I was aware that leaving is something very real, and that the longer I'm here, the more attached I will get. But then I started writing, and basically wrote myself through my meltdown...concluding that perhaps these people were only supposed to come into my life for a short while to be amazing friends, and teach me lessons about life, and myself, that I will forever carry with me. So when I leave, I won't have them physically with me, but they will always be a part of me, for what they added to my life when I was around.

And now we finally find ourselves at Monday- Christmas Eve,
which is when everything is carried out here anyways, the dinner, the gift opening.
Christmas Eve is also when the tree goes up.
And at some point I had gone upstairs for awhile, and when I came back down there was the tree- lit and decorated, and my house looked like something from a movie, if you don't believe me, just see for yourself:







*these stairs, by the way, I've fallen down twice- it's painful, I don't recommend it*




Dinner consisted of Carp (Kapr) soup, fried Carp, as well as potato salad.
The soup was really good, and thankfully host dad didn't inform me until I had finished it- that it was really important to only use the head of the fish for the soup for it to turn out right. ha.
And the Carp was good as well, but this is how dinner felt to me. It felt as though I had brought a summer picnic to Decemeber, with the potato salad, and like I'd decided to venture over to the coast for some fish and chips. It was a strange combination, but it was good- and I suppose that's what matters.

Gift opening was fun, as we have a little one, my youngest host sister is two, and it's been a long time since I've done Christmas with a little one. It is quite exciting to sit back and watch the excitement, the wonder, and innocence shine through on their faces.

Host Dad got host mom a grammaphone, which was really neat, although she couldn't stop laughing, because something is wrong with it and when it plays it sounds like something is dying.



Tuesday- Christmas
It just didn't feel like Christmas, it did not feel as though I was celebrating my
18th Christmas, but instead like I was celebrating some Holiday I've never known before. I guess, in a sense, I was. This was Christmas, unlike I have ever known it.

We drove out into the country to visit family, and although there wasn't a ton of snow on the ground, it was lightly dusted, and I had my white Christmas after all.
We sat around eating, and visiting, laughing.
and at one point we went for a walk, across this big open snow dusted field- and I was just happy, I had nothing to complain about- I was living, breathing, and it was Christmas.








Yesterday the Candadian exchange students friend, showed up to visit her. Her dad is a pilot, so getting here was free, and no problem. And I had asked if she could bring me one thing.
A book entitled "Blue Like Jazz" (yes I am aware that book titles are supposed to be underlined and not put in parenthesis, although this thing does not allow you to underline things, thus parethesis have been substituted for underlining)by Donald Miller, who happens to be from Portland.
The book is nonreligious thoughts on the Christian spirituality, which you are probably thinking is a strange thing for me to read, since I'm not really religious.
But that doesn't matter with this book, it is simply a really good book.
I read it for the first time this summer, before I left, I actually read it a couple of times this summer.
And there are several occasions since being here when I have simply wanted to pick that book up and read it, so when the friend was coming, that is what i asked for.

I picked it up, and began to read it last night, and the book is still good, still the same book, yet it's not quite as good as I recall it being. The book has not changed, it still holds the same words it did this summer, so the logical explanation would be that I have somehow changed, or shifted. Which is simply a strange thought- that a book can show you how you've altered. Because it is not as though I sit hear constantly aware of the ways in which I'm changing- I don't think most of it will hit me until I come home. But that book- it caught me off guard, that's all.

I hope everyone had a good Christmas,
whatever it is you ended up doing- I hope you made the best out of it
that you cherised the moments with that crazy family of yours
that you laughed at all the mishaps
that you remebered that it's the thought that counts
and gave- because you wanted to, and not because you felt you had to.

New Years is coming and I'm rather excited,
not because it's the start of something new and a list of resolutions- because I don't need to start over just yet, and I set my resolutions when I feel it's right, not when the Calendar turns back to one.
Yet I'm excited to start 2008 in an entirely new place, with friends that I aquired near the end of 2007.
It may be the end of the year- but something else is getting started- 2008, and it will be whatever you choose to make it.
YOU CHOOSE.
You've got to stop pointing fingers, as to why life isn't what you want it to be.
Look in that mirror, and realize, that regardless of how many people you have in your life, REALIZE that that person looking back at you is the one person you've always got. They arn't going anywhere.

So make 2008 "YOUR YEAR"
Live life, get what you can out of it
because things arn't just going to happen- you're going to have to go after what you want...but I'll tell you a secret...
it's worth it.

So here is to a year of self discovery,
of new things,
of LIVING, LAUGHING, and LOVING
make it what you want. But make it something.

There's Just Something About...

Watching an old couple vacate the bus. It's nothing like watching a person of my age or younger, step off the bus- but more like a moment that triggers some unexplainable thing within you.

This morning on my way home I watched this little old lady, slowly but surely make her way off of the bus, and then once her feet were on solid ground, she turned around, held out her hand, and helped her husband, who held a cane in one hand- and bags in another, safely step off the bus.

We grow up being constantly reminded that the male species is superior. Stronger. Better. Yet in that moment, watching the old women, help the old man, there was no distinction between superior and inferior- his body was just as weak and frail as hers. Age is not sexist. Ages comes whether we like it to or not. It is something most dread- but why dread something that is inevitable?

Yes the male is physically built superior to that of a female. Yet there is more to each species than the physical aspect. Yes men can use their strength to beat women, to hold them down- but does using power they were given without having to work for, to place others in vulnerable and inferior positions, is that really being superior?

So Men are stronger, so what? Eventually age will take over, and just as I saw today that will no longer matter. The women will help lead the man off the bus, and not because she has become superior- but because the male has finally seen what its like to be physically inferior. Because with age- there is no longer a clear and distinct difference- they become one in the same.

Alright that's all I've got for now, naturally there is more going on in this head of mine- but I either can't find the right way to put it down, or I'm not sure it should be pasted across cyberspace...so like always more will come later.

Tak Cau,
Mit hezky den ( have a good day)

The Inner Workings In The Mind Of A 17 Year Old Girl

It is strange how some realizations come about, or perhaps where they choose to come about. I ride the bus everyday, several times a day- and on this particular Wednesday afternoon- when I was heading towards the square- away from home- a certain realization decided to breakthrough.

For seventeen years, I have felt loved, and have been surrounded by those that love me. Right now- at this point in my life- love is not such an ever present thing- it's not lurking right around the corner, it currently lies in a land far far away. I am loved, I know this- that is not the issue. It is just not having that love constantly around you that causes loneliness to come knocking on your door, and sometimes when loneliness knocks, you unfortunately answer.

But it's okay, because sometimes loneliness can be quite a positive thing, which I've recently learned since being here. Sometimes it causes you to sit back and revaluate things, gain knew perspectives, decide what truly is important as well as who and what matters to you.

my heart, I also believe, is sick. sick. and hurting, bitter, resentful, distanced, guarded, neutral. Never before in my life has the phrase "out of sight out of mind" rang so true, never have I felt like a victim of that short string of words,that is, until now.
"How are you?" or "How's Life?" are things I haven't heard from anyone in a very very long time.
out of sight, out of mind.
It simply causes a melancholy feeling, an unexplainable ache.
People have dismissed my existence because I am across an ocean.
I guess I underestimated the power of the Atlantic.

And things on this side of the Atlantic as far as Americans go- are pulling on my heart strings as well.
Words can be quite powerful, this I'm sure you know, and I am a frequent participater of placing words down on paper, of formulating strings of words, that in turn form sentences, that make up this piece of me I've created.
Since words are something I enjoy so much- I think that may possibly be why I take them very personally.
I was recently informed that the mass majority of the other exchange students do not like me at all and have said things to the effect of "She is a typical American Girl and should not be here."
They also created a club of which I am the only member, as the person they would push in front of a moving bus.

Now that sounds like a really mature thing to say, I know.
And I'm at an age where statements like that should be able to be brushed off easily- but really is there an age for that? Do things like that ever stop getting to you?
I am trying to let it not bother me. trying would be the operative word. Because as much as I would like to sit here and say that those words arn't getting to me at all- I would be lying to myself.
I shouldn't be here?
those are some rather strong words- quite possibly one of the most offensive things that could have been said.
I realize people arn't always going to like you, it's just how life works- but having the mass majority of a group of 24 dislike you, when they are the only other people here going through what you are you just feel sort of hurt.
All I did was be myself,
and apparently myself was something most of them don't care for.

But I'm still confused as to why I am letting this get to me so much, because the truth is I don't really enjoy spending time with most of them anyway. The exchange student get togethers are all about who wants who, and who is going to "hook up" with who, as well as getting drunk.
First of all, if I was going to "hook up" with anyone while here, it would not be anyone from the North American continent, it would be a Czech- I am in Czech, Americans are waiting back at home.
And getting drunk I would prefer to do with Czechs as well, because drinking with Czechs is quite different than drinking with Americans.
So I don't really mesh with them either- but I don't sit around claiming that they don't belong here, that they shouldn't be here.
These are the times when I am so very aware of my age, when I feel like seventeen is compatable with age five and I'm running home to tell mom, " She said we wern't best friends anymore!"
I just feel with my new found self suffienct life style- I should be able to rise above words- let them go, but then again I'm only human.

Now on a happier note
my czech friends are truly making my experience here amazing
their care and concern
the way they enjoy my company and I enjoy theirs
the way we tease and laugh and joke together
I've only known them about three months,
and yet I feel like I've known them for so much longer
I am invested- and sometimes when I think of what they've given me
I get teary eyed
because I realize that just as I came and jumped in
I will have to eventually leave and jump out
but I mostly don't think about that
I just sit back and enjoy the time,
cherish the memories,
because things come and go in life
and you can't enjoy them if all you do is sit and worry about when they're going to go.

Oh and it always catches me off guard when things come about in times when they are most needed. I was browsing through my saved documents today, opening one’s with random titles, seeing what was there to be found. And I came across something that I think I needed to read, something that caused the step in my bounce to be just a bit lighter.

What I found was a piece of writing I’d written after being out one night with a couple of friends back home. At three a.m. we had loaded Grant’s guitar into the trunk of his car and he, Allie, and I- headed to a spot along the river, and he played and sang, and it was just one of those nights that stick with you. But as what generally occurs I had gone and forgotten about that night- about my thoughts and feelings that night, until I read my account of the evening, which I’d written to remind myself of the time when days, months, and years had passed and that night had been long forgotten. And so here it was today reminding me-
And I just thought I’d share it with you- perhaps there is something for others to gain from it as well...

March 24, 2007
"Tonight was simply one of those nights that don't happen on purpose, one of those nights where you follow where you are lead, one of those nights that will stick with a girl when she is off in the middle of the Czech Republic all by herself, without these friends, without the familiar surroundings. With all those things gone, she will still have that memory, I will still have that to hold onto, if nothing else. I don't even know where to start. Should I begin with the water? The calm and copacetic water, that had initially been dead and still when we arrived, and as the songs played, the melody and harmony filling the air, with nothing to catch the sound, the water picked up, the ripples across it became more frequent, the movement more aggressive as though our presence made an impact on how the water went about its business. I sat there, the strumming of the guitar vibrating in my eardrums, as Grant's voice broke through, and just watched, took it all in. At one point is was as though there was no music, I was so drawn in by the constant flow of ripples that moved back and forth... back and forth..., they sucked me in, grabbed and held my attention, placed me in some sort of trance. And then there was the bridge. The same bridge I have seen and gone over dozens and dozens of times, but for once, I actually saw it, the detail, what it truly is. I counted...one...two...three....and finally a total of six arches that I could see from where I sat. Occasionally, there would be fragments of time in which no cars would cross, and it seemed as though everything had stopped, except the three of us, as though through some unexplainable reason, the music created life, was the force that kept bringing the cars over the bridge, a welcoming, that those cars had no idea they were receiving. The log in which we sat, I suppose was just a log, it could have been any log, but tonight it was our log. It had the perfect little wedge in which I swung one of my legs over, and although I was not always conscious of it, my feet never stopped moving, perhaps because the music was calling to them, because to be still would be an insult to music itself. These nights, these times, are what I need to keep me going next year, points in which forgetting the surrounding takes away from the meaning and significance that it holds. If I can't remember what my room looks like, where exactly my bed is positioned, it will be okay, as long as I can hold this night within my head, as long as out of all the pictures that don't last, that these one's do."

I don't know, it just reminded me of where I was at mentally in March, where I am now, and just the shifts and changes that have occured since then. A lot has happened in life since March- and it all has been good stuff, even now looking back the hard things have toughened me up, I gained something from them, so I can't really complain.

Which in turn reminded me of how at this time of year it is common for people to send out Christmas cards with letters included telling all about how the past year has been for them- although what it truly is, is a masked and sugar coated version of what their year was like- they arn't real. Sure you can have really good years- but life is anything but flawless, there are always going to be bumps in the road, obstacles- but never before have I read about those in anyones Christmas letters.
So I am going to recap my year- honestly- because everyone knows life is all over the place.

This past year has consisted of heart break, realizing what is important, rebuilding relationships, and learning a lot of lessons.

My heart was invested in a person more than it ever has been, only to be mangaled and handed back to me- but I would do it all over again, because despite the fact that at the time it wasn't fun going through it- I came out realizing a lot about who I could choose to become, and who I want to be. I had settled for treatment I was unworthy of, that anyone would have been unworthy of. But I learned.

My mom and I started the year off more distanced than we had ever been, and I started the year with the attitude that, that wasn't going to change. I put up a wall and had convinced myself that there was no getting in. Fortunately, a lot of pivotal moments occured in our relationship, and my wall came down- THANK GOD. And right before I left we were closer than I think we have ever been. My mom is one amazing lady, and everytime I talk about her here, people go, " Wow your mom sounds amazing." and I just smile that crooked smile of mine that she loves so much, and say, "Yeah, she is."

I left my whole world behind- and took on the endevour of building a new one.
I learned the meaning of self sufficient
I learned that sometimes you've only got yourself to lean on
I finally understood what people meant when they talked about loneliness
and learned that I'm capable of confrontation although it makes me what to curl up in a ball and just roll away
I got the most painful ulcer on my leg- and it was nasty, so nasty
I decided that I want children, when before that was not even an option, they were out of the question.
I learned that changing your mind about things is perfectly alright, and that sometimes life isn't going to end up how you've planned- things change- you change.
It is okay to have no idea what you are doing...there can't always be a plan.

This past year, the whole year- consisted of a lot of learning. I learned tough lessons, I shed a lot of tears, had more than enough laughs, never enough sleep, bad fights, late nights, and lots of coffee and tea.

It wasn't flawless, in fact it was flawfull ( no that is not a word, but I'm using it anyway)but hey, that's life.

New Years is coming,
naturally after Christmas as it does every year-
and don't get me wrong it's a fun holiday
but I don't quite like it's meaning, what it stands for
generally if people are going to make new starts
they do so starting January 1st,
but why can't they do it on June 6th
or March 7th ?
You can have a new years whenever you want, you could start tomorrow,
New Years is just society pushing you to have a new start,
I'd rather have a new start when I'm ready- and maybe on the first I won't be ready,
so I won't make empty promises to myself- if I don't need a new start- a new year.
Make resolutions when you're up for it- that way you follow through.

I'm sorry if this has been the most all across the board entry, but that's how my thoughts seem to unravel these days.
Enjoy the holidays,
spend time with those that matter,
and if the holiday happens to be spent with crazy family members
and is all disfunctional
and stresses you out
just do me one favor,
take it all in
and remember...

"WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER"