LIFE AFTER CZECH
inahat2.blogspot.com
Get to reading...you know me...you might be reading for awhile...
Monday, August 25, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Let's get me into college...shall we?
So I write. I imagine you've figured this out- but now I'm writing with a purpose which is to get myself into those desired institutions of higher education, also known as college, or as the British say University, or for slang Uni.
I have written a few essays,which shockingly manage to stay within the 500 word limit- of this I am shocked as I am quite the wordy writer. I have no idea if any of what I've written is any good- I need them to be picked apart and crticized, because an average paper is not going to impress those admissions officers. So not being honest will only hurt me in the long run. I am asking you simply to take the time to read them and then to leave me a comment giving me your honest opinion and pointing out where you see flaws, weaknesses and where improvement would be some good.
Let's begin reading shall we,
PAPER ONE
When mentioning a "bell," as in those brass ringing apparatus', or what kept Quasimoto in business, most people will know what you are referring to. Most people also pass off bells as something insignificant. A small nothing in the grand scheme of things. An item that has no true impact upon them one way or another. I used to be one of those people, those people that fail to see the detail and depth to the simplest things. Or at least those things that appear to be simple. Yet, it was in spending my junior year abroad, as a foreign exchange student, in the Czech Republic, that my eyes were opened to the depth and complexity that bells consist of.
My host father, a trauma surgeon, who quite frequently repaired fractures, was also quite the skilled mender of bells. Shortly after arriving in the country, I traveled with him on one of his trips, and this love for bells he possessed was soon something I understood rather well.
We went through this short and wide wooden side door, and climbed up metal princess like tower steps. Once those ended, there were several flights of very old, steep, and rickety stairs, until finally, you had to climb up and out into the bell tower.
I settled myself down on this long piece of wood jarring out from the wall and watched as my host dad tended to his work.
It was strange because after that initial experience with bells I was drawn in. I was constantly thirsting for more knowledge concerning them, craving conversation in regards to them, because to me, they had become so much more than bells.
Every time the bells were heard, and the sound of what it was registered in my brain, I was reminded of all the small things in life, that make it worth while, that I had yet to discover.
In going to the Czech Republic, I had no intention of gaining knowledge of bells, or developing a love for them. Yet, that, in fact, is what happened. It was an unexpected occurrence; gain, something that will remain with me; the sound of repeating rings echoing in my ear, as a reminder of the year and how things slightly shifted. After the bells found me, I constantly found myself taking second glances at things I may have once overlooked. I was digging, delving, going beyond the surface, finding the detail; the depth. I had always been one to strive to discover depth, yet it now seemed deeper than it had before, and somehow even the detail seemed more precise. Yet in truth, they weren’t. Those things are incapable of changing, what had altered, was the way in which I chose to perceive things. An epiphany had occurred that was not to be disregarded, an internal revelation, a private victory. And to think, in the end, the root cause was something as simple as a bell.
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PAPER TWO
They say there comes a point in time when you realize you’ve grown up. A point where it hits you after it has already occurred, and Neverland turns into a place you truly wish existed. For me, however, it did not occur in this way, as I was aware of growing up in the midst of it.
My seventeenth year, I’d taken myself on exchange to a foreign land, where growing up would be forced upon me. That, was something I had not intended happening. Yet it turns out life in the Czech Republic is quite different in terms of the freedoms you are given and the responsibilities you take on.
I soon discovered that I was free to come and go as I pleased, within reason. Although I also discovered that the reasoning of parents in the Czech was beyond that, of what I, as a seventeen year old, often found reasonable. It also didn’t take long for me to see that dependence upon my host parents, for much at all, was not an option. It simply was not how things were done in the country I was occupying. When both of these things occur simultaneously; you are given near absolute freedom, and are handed the responsibility of the simplicities that make up the complexities of life, there is only one thing to do. Turn to yourself. Relay and depend on yourself.
At seventeen, I was aware of how easy it would be to dip my feet into the out of control seemingly limitless lifestyle, realize it wasn’t so bad, and start heading in that direction full speed. Yet, that choice to live limitless would have expired my stay in the country that was teaching me so much, would have forced me from the one place I’ve ever felt so in tune with myself. I realized, for me, that was not an option.
At seventeen I had to make the choice to set limits and boundaries for myself, to keep myself in check, because I was so very aware of the fact that no one was going to step in and do it for me. I was my responsibility, I had myself to answer to, and never, until then, had I have stood on my two feet and felt the whole weight of my body resting upon them,
It wasn’t easy, or flawless by any means. I was living in a world of trial and error. Sometimes the boundaries would be stretched, broken, and then I would have to step back and reflect. I had to decide if the boundaries had been too strict to begin with, or if I had gone and pushed the envelope too far. Yet, regardless if my choices proved to be wise or not, each one added a notch in the fast yet seemingly slow growing up phase. I was who I was becoming, and no longer who I’d been.
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PAPER THREE
I was leaving for a year. I was off to a city ninety miles south of Prague, that I couldn’t say, let alone spell to study and live as an exchange student. Going into it I knew I would be gone 364 days at most. No more; perhaps less. It was rather unsettling at times; the thought of leaving, yet the possibilities that I knew were available were endless and that was the rope that I was tangled in, that would never have allowed me to back down. Possibility. People tend to pass up possibilities far too often in life, I am more than guilty of this. I was not going to allow myself to wonder “what if” because I was going to be living the possibility not simply thinking about it.
Prior to leaving I had a defining moment with a stranger, a person I had never laid eyes on. A person I had never conversed with, whom I sat next to at an official dinner and conversed with for a span of three hours about various things including my impending exchange, and towards the end of the evening he claimed, “You have the personality and charm to do this, you will do just fine next year, your possibilities are endless.” Now, I could have easily came to those same conclusions on my own, been told those things by people that I was close to. Yet, the fact that they had come from a complete stranger, a person that made this judgment based on three hours conversing with me, a person that didn’t have to say those things and instead could have said nothing that is why I held onto those words. They did not have to be said, silence would have been perfectly happy existing during those few seconds it took for the stranger to utter those words, but it didn’t.
I spent the rest of the evening in my chair, next to that person, running over that one conclusion, one statement, realizing for the first time in a long time that those words were true, genuine, that they were said because they were meant. I am so glad that there are far too many people in this world to know them all. I appreciate the people that are strangers to me, as much as I appreciate those that know me through and through. Those strangers walk in, and walk right back out, while leaving you with a piece of something, an answer, a revelation. People you know walk in, and stay. The people that stay impact us continuously, but it’s the strangers I find, the one’s that leave, that leave lasting impressions.
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PAPER FOUR
Sometimes there is simply this indescribable ache that emerges through my fingers. They constrict ever so slightly and the longer I resist what they are trying to get across to me, the more forceful the constriction becomes until I buckle; simply give in to the message the fingers are trying to spell out for me. Most of the time I have no idea what the fingers are trying to tell me. It would make sense that it requires thought to make anything come from what the fingers have to say. That in truth, it is my head formulating thoughts and my hands simply releasing them. However, I do not agree with this exactly. Sure there are times when I make the conscious decision to sit down and write. Yet other times, it is more of a feeling I get and I provide my hands with the keyboard or the writing utensil of choice and let them work their magic. The words simply flow from a place I am not exactly in tune with, as I’m not always sure what is going to come out, until it has been engraved and is available for me to read, to set my eyes on and let the meaning sink in.
In talking to other people that occupy this world it is true that not all experience such a thing in regards to writing. It is not until you explain the sensation to someone who is not at all familiar with such a feeling, that you realize that the validating feeling you get to go through from formulating thoughts you didn’t even know existed, is not a natural pleasure for all. I consider myself lucky for being one that experiences such things, although I do not deem those that go without such experiences unlucky. I simply know a world in which such an occurrence is commonplace and expected. Those without it- have no true understanding of the sensation and inner warmth that occurs as the words flow through you and onto something tangible- becoming real, something you can see, instead of something that is simply felt.
I am most in tune with myself when I am able to tap into that part of myself that is always open, yet more free flowing at times when it is least expected. Some people would refer to what I’m talking about as a “gift”- I however, choose not to. I like to think of it more as an “ability.” An ability that I have to tap into, to go along with the urges that come, the intuition that tells me I best pick up a pen- If I think I can handle what it has to say- if I feel up to the task of seeing just what that pen will put to paper. Writing for me, is more than an action to go through, the words are who I am in my true form.
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alright again, any feedback- would be greatly appreciated. I have more that are in progress, so I'm sure they will be available soon.
HOPE ALL IS WELL
I have written a few essays,which shockingly manage to stay within the 500 word limit- of this I am shocked as I am quite the wordy writer. I have no idea if any of what I've written is any good- I need them to be picked apart and crticized, because an average paper is not going to impress those admissions officers. So not being honest will only hurt me in the long run. I am asking you simply to take the time to read them and then to leave me a comment giving me your honest opinion and pointing out where you see flaws, weaknesses and where improvement would be some good.
Let's begin reading shall we,
PAPER ONE
When mentioning a "bell," as in those brass ringing apparatus', or what kept Quasimoto in business, most people will know what you are referring to. Most people also pass off bells as something insignificant. A small nothing in the grand scheme of things. An item that has no true impact upon them one way or another. I used to be one of those people, those people that fail to see the detail and depth to the simplest things. Or at least those things that appear to be simple. Yet, it was in spending my junior year abroad, as a foreign exchange student, in the Czech Republic, that my eyes were opened to the depth and complexity that bells consist of.
My host father, a trauma surgeon, who quite frequently repaired fractures, was also quite the skilled mender of bells. Shortly after arriving in the country, I traveled with him on one of his trips, and this love for bells he possessed was soon something I understood rather well.
We went through this short and wide wooden side door, and climbed up metal princess like tower steps. Once those ended, there were several flights of very old, steep, and rickety stairs, until finally, you had to climb up and out into the bell tower.
I settled myself down on this long piece of wood jarring out from the wall and watched as my host dad tended to his work.
It was strange because after that initial experience with bells I was drawn in. I was constantly thirsting for more knowledge concerning them, craving conversation in regards to them, because to me, they had become so much more than bells.
Every time the bells were heard, and the sound of what it was registered in my brain, I was reminded of all the small things in life, that make it worth while, that I had yet to discover.
In going to the Czech Republic, I had no intention of gaining knowledge of bells, or developing a love for them. Yet, that, in fact, is what happened. It was an unexpected occurrence; gain, something that will remain with me; the sound of repeating rings echoing in my ear, as a reminder of the year and how things slightly shifted. After the bells found me, I constantly found myself taking second glances at things I may have once overlooked. I was digging, delving, going beyond the surface, finding the detail; the depth. I had always been one to strive to discover depth, yet it now seemed deeper than it had before, and somehow even the detail seemed more precise. Yet in truth, they weren’t. Those things are incapable of changing, what had altered, was the way in which I chose to perceive things. An epiphany had occurred that was not to be disregarded, an internal revelation, a private victory. And to think, in the end, the root cause was something as simple as a bell.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PAPER TWO
They say there comes a point in time when you realize you’ve grown up. A point where it hits you after it has already occurred, and Neverland turns into a place you truly wish existed. For me, however, it did not occur in this way, as I was aware of growing up in the midst of it.
My seventeenth year, I’d taken myself on exchange to a foreign land, where growing up would be forced upon me. That, was something I had not intended happening. Yet it turns out life in the Czech Republic is quite different in terms of the freedoms you are given and the responsibilities you take on.
I soon discovered that I was free to come and go as I pleased, within reason. Although I also discovered that the reasoning of parents in the Czech was beyond that, of what I, as a seventeen year old, often found reasonable. It also didn’t take long for me to see that dependence upon my host parents, for much at all, was not an option. It simply was not how things were done in the country I was occupying. When both of these things occur simultaneously; you are given near absolute freedom, and are handed the responsibility of the simplicities that make up the complexities of life, there is only one thing to do. Turn to yourself. Relay and depend on yourself.
At seventeen, I was aware of how easy it would be to dip my feet into the out of control seemingly limitless lifestyle, realize it wasn’t so bad, and start heading in that direction full speed. Yet, that choice to live limitless would have expired my stay in the country that was teaching me so much, would have forced me from the one place I’ve ever felt so in tune with myself. I realized, for me, that was not an option.
At seventeen I had to make the choice to set limits and boundaries for myself, to keep myself in check, because I was so very aware of the fact that no one was going to step in and do it for me. I was my responsibility, I had myself to answer to, and never, until then, had I have stood on my two feet and felt the whole weight of my body resting upon them,
It wasn’t easy, or flawless by any means. I was living in a world of trial and error. Sometimes the boundaries would be stretched, broken, and then I would have to step back and reflect. I had to decide if the boundaries had been too strict to begin with, or if I had gone and pushed the envelope too far. Yet, regardless if my choices proved to be wise or not, each one added a notch in the fast yet seemingly slow growing up phase. I was who I was becoming, and no longer who I’d been.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PAPER THREE
I was leaving for a year. I was off to a city ninety miles south of Prague, that I couldn’t say, let alone spell to study and live as an exchange student. Going into it I knew I would be gone 364 days at most. No more; perhaps less. It was rather unsettling at times; the thought of leaving, yet the possibilities that I knew were available were endless and that was the rope that I was tangled in, that would never have allowed me to back down. Possibility. People tend to pass up possibilities far too often in life, I am more than guilty of this. I was not going to allow myself to wonder “what if” because I was going to be living the possibility not simply thinking about it.
Prior to leaving I had a defining moment with a stranger, a person I had never laid eyes on. A person I had never conversed with, whom I sat next to at an official dinner and conversed with for a span of three hours about various things including my impending exchange, and towards the end of the evening he claimed, “You have the personality and charm to do this, you will do just fine next year, your possibilities are endless.” Now, I could have easily came to those same conclusions on my own, been told those things by people that I was close to. Yet, the fact that they had come from a complete stranger, a person that made this judgment based on three hours conversing with me, a person that didn’t have to say those things and instead could have said nothing that is why I held onto those words. They did not have to be said, silence would have been perfectly happy existing during those few seconds it took for the stranger to utter those words, but it didn’t.
I spent the rest of the evening in my chair, next to that person, running over that one conclusion, one statement, realizing for the first time in a long time that those words were true, genuine, that they were said because they were meant. I am so glad that there are far too many people in this world to know them all. I appreciate the people that are strangers to me, as much as I appreciate those that know me through and through. Those strangers walk in, and walk right back out, while leaving you with a piece of something, an answer, a revelation. People you know walk in, and stay. The people that stay impact us continuously, but it’s the strangers I find, the one’s that leave, that leave lasting impressions.
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PAPER FOUR
Sometimes there is simply this indescribable ache that emerges through my fingers. They constrict ever so slightly and the longer I resist what they are trying to get across to me, the more forceful the constriction becomes until I buckle; simply give in to the message the fingers are trying to spell out for me. Most of the time I have no idea what the fingers are trying to tell me. It would make sense that it requires thought to make anything come from what the fingers have to say. That in truth, it is my head formulating thoughts and my hands simply releasing them. However, I do not agree with this exactly. Sure there are times when I make the conscious decision to sit down and write. Yet other times, it is more of a feeling I get and I provide my hands with the keyboard or the writing utensil of choice and let them work their magic. The words simply flow from a place I am not exactly in tune with, as I’m not always sure what is going to come out, until it has been engraved and is available for me to read, to set my eyes on and let the meaning sink in.
In talking to other people that occupy this world it is true that not all experience such a thing in regards to writing. It is not until you explain the sensation to someone who is not at all familiar with such a feeling, that you realize that the validating feeling you get to go through from formulating thoughts you didn’t even know existed, is not a natural pleasure for all. I consider myself lucky for being one that experiences such things, although I do not deem those that go without such experiences unlucky. I simply know a world in which such an occurrence is commonplace and expected. Those without it- have no true understanding of the sensation and inner warmth that occurs as the words flow through you and onto something tangible- becoming real, something you can see, instead of something that is simply felt.
I am most in tune with myself when I am able to tap into that part of myself that is always open, yet more free flowing at times when it is least expected. Some people would refer to what I’m talking about as a “gift”- I however, choose not to. I like to think of it more as an “ability.” An ability that I have to tap into, to go along with the urges that come, the intuition that tells me I best pick up a pen- If I think I can handle what it has to say- if I feel up to the task of seeing just what that pen will put to paper. Writing for me, is more than an action to go through, the words are who I am in my true form.
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alright again, any feedback- would be greatly appreciated. I have more that are in progress, so I'm sure they will be available soon.
HOPE ALL IS WELL
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Ramblings...
Sometimes there is simply this indescribable ache that emerges through my fingers. They constrict ever so slightly and the longer I resist what they are trying to get across to me, the more forceful the constriction becomes until I buckle, simply give in to the message the fingers are trying to spell out for me. Most of the time I have no idea what the fingers are trying to tell me. It would make sense that it requires thought to make anything come from what the fingers have to say. That it, in truth, is my head formulating thoughts and my hands simply releasing them. However, I do not agree with this exactly. Sure there are times when I make the conscious decision to sit down and write. Yet other times- it is more of a feeling I get- and I provide my hands with the keyboard or the writing utensil of choice and let them work their magic. I refer to it as magic, as I don’t know what else you would really call it. The words simply flow from a place I am not exactly in tune with- as I’m not always sure what is going to come out, until it has been engraved and is available for me to read- to set my eyes on and let the meaning sink in. I suppose I am in tune to some degree, if nothing else simply in the subconscious where the thoughts are hidden. Perhaps the secret is that the thoughts do not have any sense or do not exist in this case until they are written down. In talking to other people that occupy this world- it is true that not all experience such a thing in regards to writing. It is not until you explain the sensation to someone who is not at all familiar with such a feeling that you realize that the validating feeling you get to go through from formulating thoughts you didn’t even know existed is not a natural pleasure for all. I consider myself lucky for being one that experiences such things, although I do not deem those that go without such experiences unlucky. I simply know a world in which such an occurrence is commonplace and expected. If all of a sudden it was to up and leave me, it would be greatly missed- as I would have been familiar with a world in which it existed- and then forced to cope in one in which it does not. Those without it- have no true understanding of the sensation and inner warmth that occurs as the words flow through you and onto something tangible- becoming real, something you can see, instead of something that is simply felt. I believe that despite the fact that not everyone experiences a feeling like this from writing- I think in some way shape or form everyone has something in their life that fills them with that feeling. That while they are in the midst of what ever it is that creates this feeling they feel entirely at peace. They are most in tune with themselves- when they are able to tap into the part of themselves that is always open, yet more free flowing at times when it is least expected. Some people would refer to what I’m talking about as a “gift”- I however, choose not to. I like to think of it more as an “ability.” An ability requires you to tap into it, to go along with the urges that come, the intuition that tells me I best pick up a pen- If I think I can handle what it has to say- if I feel up to the task of seeing just what that pen will put to paper. Many I know would claim that it’s painfully obvious I am meant to be a writer. I, however, as much of a dreamer as I am, am to much of a realist to consider such an occupation. Stability is my friend, and as a writer that often is a significant piece missing from your life. You write, but who’s to say anyone will find your writing worth reading? I enjoy going back and reviewing past things I’ve written, I find that to be enough. I don’t need the approval of publishers or the public to validate my writing. I think I keep my writing a bit to close to my heart as well, and having it picked apart and criticized, to be blatantly honest, I’m not sure I could handle. It would be as though someone was to tell you that what your heart has to say and what you feel are wrong. I simply believe that no one is you and cannot make that judgment until they are you, which they never will be- so my point would be that the judgment should not be made. It will be, however. Yet no one can tap into what goes on in that head of yours except you- no one will ever fully understand you as a person. This in itself often scares me as the majority of the time we walk around feeling as though we don’t know ourselves, and if my theory is true and no one else will never know us how we know ourselves- then that translates to the fact that no one knows us- not even ourselves. Scary. Huh? I think part of that is why writers like so much to write. They have the opportunity to create characters and know them absolutely- entirely- completely; in a way that they are unable to know anyone that truly exists and is living. They know every thought the character has, every quirk- every detail down to the one stray gray hair in the sea of hair strands. The author knows all. I may not be going to college to study the art of writing, but it doesn’t mean that the writing will stop. It simply means that I have other interests as far as careers go. I cannot consume myself with a work that simply relies on strings of words flowing together in this puzzle like way. Sometimes I will spend hours writing and when I am through- none of it sounds right- all that time, and nothing worthy to show for it. If writing was my career there would be several times like those- several more than I would like to encounter, those days show up frequent enough as it is. I suppose I sound as though my thoughts are all across the board, but that tends to happen when I start writing without a specific purpose. Give me a subject and I’ll be sure to stay on topic- but let me simply write to write and you will experience a roller coaster of thoughts and most probably end up being quite confused by the time your eyes reach the last period. That however, is in no way my fault. I didn’t tell you to start reading, and I surely did not urge you to continue, and I most definitely did not insist that you continue to the end. Those choices you made all on your own. I simply placed down the right combination of words in hopes that you would start off of my lead and have the urge to see what other random thought I divulged on paper. You see, although the words may not always be free flowing, I generally can keep producing them for as long as my heart desires. Words are one of the free things in life- in literal sense of course. Although just because you aren’t handing out that green stuff in order to use words, on many occasions the price you pay for your words is a lot more than any dollar amount. Words ruin friendships, marriages, jobs, peoples lives; I would never try to put dollar amounts to those things-and you don’t have to pay to get them, the irony is that you pay after they’re gone. You pay for something you no longer have, for something you now only have memories of. How twisted and cruel is that? Well, that is the way life works. Love and joy, pain and hurt- peace and hope- cruel and twisted is what the world is all about. Nothing is as cruel and twisted as life, unless we are discussing death- which is equally so. But then, that naturally makes sense- because despite the fact that they are opposites, opposites generally have more in common than we realize. Hence, the saying opposites attract. You know, I wonder if anyone has ever sat down and tried to figure out this whole entire life thing. I imagine that your head would start to hurt after awhile from all the different thoughts and possibilities of all the different things that life consists of. Honestly, I would never even want to take on the endeavor, for goodness sakes- let all the complexities of life remain a mystery. Now, that is not me saying that I do not like philosophy, I do in fact, very much- but generally philosophers do not philosophize everything- but instead hone in on a certain aspect. Anyways no philosopher lives long enough to philosophize every little thing that this life consists of- well until of course technology has advanced to the point where people live forever- hopefully it doesn’t- if it did I don’t think it would be called living anymore- perhaps at that point it would simply become existing, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. What really isn’t good for anyone is dwelling on death, or anticipating it. By all means, don’t worry- it will show up- but you can’t spend your life worrying about when or how- what a waste of life; to simply anticipate and constantly think about its end. It is similar to going on a vacation and the whole vacation simply being sad and depressed that it will end.Or in relation to me, being sad my entire exchange because I realize that sooner or later it will be over. That is just a vacation, an exchange- that is a small thing that exists within life. Life. Life exists within its self. Life is Life- it doesn’t get any bigger than that. Although I suppose that’s all relative to your train of thought. However, think about this. If life didn’t exist- then there wouldn’t be anything to “be” bigger- so life is the essential “big.” But then people will argue with that statement too. I never said I was right about anything. And I don’t have to be right to say things. I just have to “be”. But then you could argue with that too. However, if I was to keep myself from writing anything that someone could argue with, then I'd have absolutely nothing to write. You can argue about anything- some will argue that the sky is not blue, that grass is not green, some people argue because they have a valid point, strong beliefs, others simply argue because they get some sort of thrill and pleasure from it. I'm not one of those people, I say pick your battles, sometimes it's just not worth it. Which just brought about the thought of how when we are growing up or parents constantly tell us that we are self centered and all we think about is ourselves, and to think we have the audacity to argue. It's true, although of course none of us will admit it. Who would willingly admit such a thing, without getting defensive and putting up an argument? Yet the truth is we all go through that stage in our lives, for some of us it is simply that; a stage, for others it remains and becomes how we carry out our lives. People emerge from the self centered bubble at different times, or not at all, but I do believe I have emerged from the cacoon and have spread my wings. I feel as though this foreign exchange experience as opened my eyes and made me about others and not so much about myself. I mean, sure I'm aware of myself, but I constantly want to be doing for others, I am aware that this life thing is not all about me- it's about all of us, and the fact that as my friend Ben Lee likes to sing "We're All In This Together". And I don't believe until you realize that, the there is so much more to this thing than you, I think you find yourself in a rut- on a bicycle in mud spinning your wheels but not going anywhere. It wasn't so long ago that I was in that place, and reflecting on it now I was not a person I would want to be, I blindly hurt people that were close to me- because I was constantly only considering myself, and I didn't understand when people became frusturated or upset with me- or perhaps I didn't want to understand- what I was doing all made perfect sense to me, but that's simply because it was all about me. I think had I not come on exchange I would have been stuck in the world of "ME ME ME" for much longer, but it was in going out and having to build relationships all over again that I realized that it's so much easier if everything isn't always about you. Because truth is it's not. It's simply a lie we tell ourselves. Truthly, not much is really about you. Not much at all. It is about US. You know, I find it rather funny because people tend to tell me that they think I have insight, which I really don't- I just pay attention to things. I'm telling if you just pay attention, you too can make people think you have insight. It's not a secret. But the "Secret", now that, that is some secret. Although it's not really a secret anymore because it's become popular and everyone knows about it, but I knew about the Secret, before it was the cool thing to know about- and I like it. I like it a lot. Because it is logical, because it makes sense to me, and because in applying its concepts I have had great things happen. Being here for one, is the product of believing in the secret. You know but people will argue with the Secret as well. As I said people will argue with anything. But why must we argue with people's believes and claim those that don't believe what we believe are WRONG. Then tell me, who is right? Is anyone??? Can't we just all be right, and leave other peoples beliefs alone without attacking them? People argue about things such as religion as though they are kids at a candy shop arguing over the last sucker. Some things are worth arguing, other things I think should just be left alone. Again, simply my thoughts. You don't have to keep reading, and I never asked you to agree. This is not a persuasive essay, I promise, I'm not even sure if I can remember how to write one of those....kidding. Okay I think I've rambled for long enough, and I thought that perhaps I should go back and seperate this into paragraphs, but paragraphs are used to seperate ideas, and although there are individual ideas throughout this, they all kind of just flowed and meshed together, so I'm choosing to leave it just as it is, because that is how it came out, I was just answering to the call of my fingers. Now you know what happens, when they call.
until the fingers crave the keyboard once again,
your rambler
currently writing to you from what is considered the "Heart of Europe"
my home away from home
until the fingers crave the keyboard once again,
your rambler
currently writing to you from what is considered the "Heart of Europe"
my home away from home
Monday, February 11, 2008
Transitions
I recently felt as though I had stepped into a movie, or more like I had stepped into fragments of movies and they had all been meshed together to make up what currently is the life I am leading. At one point I felt as though I was taken to the dancing scene from the Titanic, in another as though Jack Sparrow had entered the room and further that I was living in the midst of the Brady Bunch.
I was invited by a friend to a Ples ( a ball) in her village, where she was to perform a traditional Czech dance. It was in a village so was naturally a lot smaller and less extravagant than the other Balls I have attended. Everyone was cousins, and brothers and sisters, and everyone knew everyone.
At one point there was this Czech tradition where as a girl you go and ask a guy to dance, and then he must buy you these sweets that they are selling. Since Valentines day is approaching the cakes were these large hearts. So what you do is you pick a boy, you dance- and he buys you a cake. So I made three different guys dance with me- and ended up with three cakes…it was fun and made me wish we had things like this at home.
I danced continuously all night long- and just before three a.m. when I danced my last dance- I believe my feet were on autopilot as I was no longer aware of what I was really doing- my feet hurt and it’s a miracle they were still moving.
At one point a farmer- who is infamous for always being drunk at these functions and getting up and dancing on tables- did just that- and I couldn’t stop laughing. I got it on video…don’t worry.
The thing about being here is that everyday provides something new- some unchartered territory-something entirely new and unseen by me ever before. It may have routine and structure- but always lurking around the corner is something new for me to discover. Although this possibility exists at home as well- in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t. Home is familiar- so you may have new experiences but the majority of the time- because it is normalicy- home- it doesn’t impact you as much, but perhaps we are at fault for that. Perhaps if we want to be impacted by the new occurrences and events in our lives- perhaps that is our prerogative.
This place has taught me so much about myself- so much more than I believe home ever did in the past. I think leaving all you know is a rather self validating experience- in allowing you to see that you are capable of such things, and that although you may not always feel so strong- you are a lot stronger than you think. It basically comes down to the fact that you are strong when you realize you have to be.
Now I may sound crazy, but what’s new? I feel as though the Czech Republic held a piece of me and was simply waiting for me to come and claim it. I could have gone to other countries- could have chosen another location on that massive map we call our world- I could have, but what is important is that I didn’t. The Czech Republic was my first choice from the beginning and it remained that way through out the whole selection process.
Before I came here, to me, it was simply an unknown land mass, some piece of land I’d had yet to step foot on. Something new. Something different. And now it has become my home away from home.
The exchange student from Canada and I were talking the other day- and she made mention of how I’m different now than I was when I first met her- which kind of threw me, because mostly I just feel more complete- slightly different- but mostly complete- these changes she mentions I’m sure I’ll notice in time. I know that I’m growing up- but that would have occurred regardless of my location in the world.
This place gives me motivation, drive. I realize that if I go out into this world and I find failure- that it is okay. You simply re-build- start over. It is not easy by any means, but it can be done. I left everything I knew- and have built a world up a round me- and am living life. I am living life.
I recently moved to my new host families and am thoroughly excited- as we only speak Czech. My hope is that in the following months my Czech will improve at a more rapid pace- as I have them on my side aiding me in this learning process. Czech is a hard language. It is a bitch, really. But it’s not impossible- it can be learned as most things can. So I’m trying my best- and that is all I can do.
The sun is shining today- it’s coming through my window, beaming in on my desk- Spring my friends is right around the corner; already. Time I’ve realized is something you just have to learn to accept. It’s going to come and it’s going to go- and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, so getting all caught up in it will not do anything- and it surely won’t stop it. Enjoy what is happening in this moment. Right here. Right now. That really is all you can do. Time does not operate on your terms, it’s actually quite the opposite. You operate on times terms. Your life begins when time allows, and also comes to a screeching halt- when time is up. Time I believe is one of the biggest mysteries- and it’s no doubt that it’s going to stay that way.
I’ve realized lately that I think I can change people’s lives. I realize that may sound cheap and like something you’ve heard politicians say time and time again. But I’m serious. I don’t mean it in the “I am going to change the world” sort of way- but I think that perhaps I can impact some of the people that this world consists of. People need people. This is common knowledge however how many of us have people in our lives that are there to constantly uplift and motivate? I mean sure to some extent, but generally jealously steps in or something else of that sort- and they don’t always want to be our personal cheerleaders. I have the need, the desire to give motivation- words of encouragement. I want to uplift people- make them realize their potential- show them just what they can do if they believe in themselves, and their abilities. I have so much of me to give out and infect people with the ability to believe in themselves and fulfill their potential. I am only concerned with the fact that in giving to others and making my attempt to change lives- that I will somehow forget to give to myself. Which probably makes me sound selfish- but that is not what that is about at all. If I forget to give to myself- if I stop doing for me what I am trying to do for others- I will fail. This is not a question, it is a reality. I was told the other day the last word the person I was talking to would use to describe me is – hypocrite. If this is true, then I cannot be giving to others when I’m not giving to myself. They both need to co inside- I need to give to myself in order to give to others. Otherwise it simply won’t work. But the fear that I will forget about me, isn’t to far fetched of a thought. People mean a lot to me. The people that are in my life mean a lot to me- and I make sure that they know it. I invest a lot in people- sometimes so much, that in the past I have lost sense of my own self identity and have fallen to a place where I was no longer giving to myself- and I was not happy. I kept giving, because it is what I do- and remained one of the things I truly enjoyed getting pleasure from- but the giving made me feel empty. I was giving to others and I couldn’t even give to myself. Since being here, I’ve had people write me and say that I helped guide them in the right directions when I was there- and that they don’t know how to do it without me. In my mind I failed in that relationship. Through my giving I somehow made the person feel dependent upon me- when my true intention had been to cause them to feel dependent on themselves.
I took a break from writing- after all you’ve just read and went with my new host mom to a flower exhibition. It sounds strange perhaps- but she offered and I jumped at the chance. You learn as an exchange student to take the offer of even the most peculiar of invitations- because it means an experience for something new- and bonding time with people you know you don’t have much time with. When arriving at the flower exhibit host mom informed me that before she studied law she studied flowers- which is what I believe a botanist does.. although don’t quote me on that. I am not familiar with the studies of flowers. It was really nice actually- being here I get the opportunity to enjoy life’s simplicities…to stop and smell the flowers ( no pun intended) to sit back and really look at a flower- and observe its beauty. Most often we have so much going on that the thought of looking at a flower doesn’t even cross our minds- let alone standing and observing one. We forget about the simplicities because we are all caught up in the things we need to do- instead of the things we’d really like to be doing.
We walked around the exhibit- host mom bought a couple of plants and we headed out the doors.
We started to walk down the sidewalk towards the car- when host mom suddenly stopped- turned to me and asked if I wanted to go for coffee, and I said sure- and so we headed on our way to a pastry shop- and sat and had espressos and a piece of picturesque raspberry cake and visited. We talked about her job as a lawyer- how it is hard because you have to separate your work from your home life- which is tiring and sometimes leaves you in a bad mood at the end of the day- despite your best efforts to keep work away from home. She told me about a recent case involving three prostiutes and how they took their clients credit card and made all these charges. Yeah- I’m sure not what the client intended. Also in the Czech Republic there is no jury in their system- which basically means that host mom- as a judge holds all the power when making her decisions. Which I’m sure is quite the load to carry. We also talked about how I want to be a lawyer- but how I’m thinking I want to study psychology for my bachelors degree. She said that was good- as psychology plays a big part in law- as far as being able to read people and such, but that also to be aware of the fact that in psychology you get personal with people- while in law- it is crucial that you keep people at a distance. We talked about so much really- we just sat and talked and drank our coffee and ate our cake- and the whole conversation was in Czech, besides the few English words I’d throw in every once in awhile because I didn’t know the Czech word for what I was trying to say. We left and I thanked her, explaining that it was a nice day- and that with my last host mom I didn’t get this because she had a little one and had to take care of her. The sun was shining and we walked through the main square and back to the car- and it isn’t even as though we did all that much, but it was simply a nice outing. I really really like my new host mom- Iwas afraid initially as the Canadian didn’t seem to like this host family a whole lot, but then again we are two very different people and maybe they just didn’t mesh. However- I think we mesh, and I am rather excited as I’m almost positive there will be a noticeable difference in my Czech in me living here- and some memorable experiences as host mom and I seem to have quite a bit in common.
I was also reflecting on my last host family. You find yourself doing comparsions- it’s quite funny actually, but if you ever find yourself in the situation of having a new family every few months- I think you’ll understand. I liked my last host family overall, yet often I found myself feeling uncomfortable- out of place- and in the way. I think part of that had to do with the fact that the house was rather small and was housing five people a cat and a dog. Or perhaps it is because I felt ignored a lot of the time- I’m not sure exactly. I think while living there I had convinced myself that perhaps I was only making myself feel uncomfortable- that I was inflicting these feelings on myself. But being here for less than a week- I don’t think I was inflicting anything on myself- I simply think how I felt- was how it was. Because here I feel at ease, comfortable- and talked to. I go to events, to dance lessons- and my host parents actually ask me how they were when I get home- ask me what dances I learned, etc. They actually show a genuine interest in my life here. It is just a really nice feeling. A feeling I’ve truly missed for the last five months. It is funny the things you realize you value when they suddenly up and leave- things that seem insignificant, until they are gone.
Get out and live today.
Be true.
Be real.
Be you.
that's all anyone wants anyway---to know the real you
there's no time for pretending to be something your not.
Be you.
Live Life.
That's all.
simple.
that's all.
Across the Atlantic- but closer than you think
I was invited by a friend to a Ples ( a ball) in her village, where she was to perform a traditional Czech dance. It was in a village so was naturally a lot smaller and less extravagant than the other Balls I have attended. Everyone was cousins, and brothers and sisters, and everyone knew everyone.
At one point there was this Czech tradition where as a girl you go and ask a guy to dance, and then he must buy you these sweets that they are selling. Since Valentines day is approaching the cakes were these large hearts. So what you do is you pick a boy, you dance- and he buys you a cake. So I made three different guys dance with me- and ended up with three cakes…it was fun and made me wish we had things like this at home.
I danced continuously all night long- and just before three a.m. when I danced my last dance- I believe my feet were on autopilot as I was no longer aware of what I was really doing- my feet hurt and it’s a miracle they were still moving.
At one point a farmer- who is infamous for always being drunk at these functions and getting up and dancing on tables- did just that- and I couldn’t stop laughing. I got it on video…don’t worry.
The thing about being here is that everyday provides something new- some unchartered territory-something entirely new and unseen by me ever before. It may have routine and structure- but always lurking around the corner is something new for me to discover. Although this possibility exists at home as well- in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t. Home is familiar- so you may have new experiences but the majority of the time- because it is normalicy- home- it doesn’t impact you as much, but perhaps we are at fault for that. Perhaps if we want to be impacted by the new occurrences and events in our lives- perhaps that is our prerogative.
This place has taught me so much about myself- so much more than I believe home ever did in the past. I think leaving all you know is a rather self validating experience- in allowing you to see that you are capable of such things, and that although you may not always feel so strong- you are a lot stronger than you think. It basically comes down to the fact that you are strong when you realize you have to be.
Now I may sound crazy, but what’s new? I feel as though the Czech Republic held a piece of me and was simply waiting for me to come and claim it. I could have gone to other countries- could have chosen another location on that massive map we call our world- I could have, but what is important is that I didn’t. The Czech Republic was my first choice from the beginning and it remained that way through out the whole selection process.
Before I came here, to me, it was simply an unknown land mass, some piece of land I’d had yet to step foot on. Something new. Something different. And now it has become my home away from home.
The exchange student from Canada and I were talking the other day- and she made mention of how I’m different now than I was when I first met her- which kind of threw me, because mostly I just feel more complete- slightly different- but mostly complete- these changes she mentions I’m sure I’ll notice in time. I know that I’m growing up- but that would have occurred regardless of my location in the world.
This place gives me motivation, drive. I realize that if I go out into this world and I find failure- that it is okay. You simply re-build- start over. It is not easy by any means, but it can be done. I left everything I knew- and have built a world up a round me- and am living life. I am living life.
I recently moved to my new host families and am thoroughly excited- as we only speak Czech. My hope is that in the following months my Czech will improve at a more rapid pace- as I have them on my side aiding me in this learning process. Czech is a hard language. It is a bitch, really. But it’s not impossible- it can be learned as most things can. So I’m trying my best- and that is all I can do.
The sun is shining today- it’s coming through my window, beaming in on my desk- Spring my friends is right around the corner; already. Time I’ve realized is something you just have to learn to accept. It’s going to come and it’s going to go- and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, so getting all caught up in it will not do anything- and it surely won’t stop it. Enjoy what is happening in this moment. Right here. Right now. That really is all you can do. Time does not operate on your terms, it’s actually quite the opposite. You operate on times terms. Your life begins when time allows, and also comes to a screeching halt- when time is up. Time I believe is one of the biggest mysteries- and it’s no doubt that it’s going to stay that way.
I’ve realized lately that I think I can change people’s lives. I realize that may sound cheap and like something you’ve heard politicians say time and time again. But I’m serious. I don’t mean it in the “I am going to change the world” sort of way- but I think that perhaps I can impact some of the people that this world consists of. People need people. This is common knowledge however how many of us have people in our lives that are there to constantly uplift and motivate? I mean sure to some extent, but generally jealously steps in or something else of that sort- and they don’t always want to be our personal cheerleaders. I have the need, the desire to give motivation- words of encouragement. I want to uplift people- make them realize their potential- show them just what they can do if they believe in themselves, and their abilities. I have so much of me to give out and infect people with the ability to believe in themselves and fulfill their potential. I am only concerned with the fact that in giving to others and making my attempt to change lives- that I will somehow forget to give to myself. Which probably makes me sound selfish- but that is not what that is about at all. If I forget to give to myself- if I stop doing for me what I am trying to do for others- I will fail. This is not a question, it is a reality. I was told the other day the last word the person I was talking to would use to describe me is – hypocrite. If this is true, then I cannot be giving to others when I’m not giving to myself. They both need to co inside- I need to give to myself in order to give to others. Otherwise it simply won’t work. But the fear that I will forget about me, isn’t to far fetched of a thought. People mean a lot to me. The people that are in my life mean a lot to me- and I make sure that they know it. I invest a lot in people- sometimes so much, that in the past I have lost sense of my own self identity and have fallen to a place where I was no longer giving to myself- and I was not happy. I kept giving, because it is what I do- and remained one of the things I truly enjoyed getting pleasure from- but the giving made me feel empty. I was giving to others and I couldn’t even give to myself. Since being here, I’ve had people write me and say that I helped guide them in the right directions when I was there- and that they don’t know how to do it without me. In my mind I failed in that relationship. Through my giving I somehow made the person feel dependent upon me- when my true intention had been to cause them to feel dependent on themselves.
I took a break from writing- after all you’ve just read and went with my new host mom to a flower exhibition. It sounds strange perhaps- but she offered and I jumped at the chance. You learn as an exchange student to take the offer of even the most peculiar of invitations- because it means an experience for something new- and bonding time with people you know you don’t have much time with. When arriving at the flower exhibit host mom informed me that before she studied law she studied flowers- which is what I believe a botanist does.. although don’t quote me on that. I am not familiar with the studies of flowers. It was really nice actually- being here I get the opportunity to enjoy life’s simplicities…to stop and smell the flowers ( no pun intended) to sit back and really look at a flower- and observe its beauty. Most often we have so much going on that the thought of looking at a flower doesn’t even cross our minds- let alone standing and observing one. We forget about the simplicities because we are all caught up in the things we need to do- instead of the things we’d really like to be doing.
We walked around the exhibit- host mom bought a couple of plants and we headed out the doors.
We started to walk down the sidewalk towards the car- when host mom suddenly stopped- turned to me and asked if I wanted to go for coffee, and I said sure- and so we headed on our way to a pastry shop- and sat and had espressos and a piece of picturesque raspberry cake and visited. We talked about her job as a lawyer- how it is hard because you have to separate your work from your home life- which is tiring and sometimes leaves you in a bad mood at the end of the day- despite your best efforts to keep work away from home. She told me about a recent case involving three prostiutes and how they took their clients credit card and made all these charges. Yeah- I’m sure not what the client intended. Also in the Czech Republic there is no jury in their system- which basically means that host mom- as a judge holds all the power when making her decisions. Which I’m sure is quite the load to carry. We also talked about how I want to be a lawyer- but how I’m thinking I want to study psychology for my bachelors degree. She said that was good- as psychology plays a big part in law- as far as being able to read people and such, but that also to be aware of the fact that in psychology you get personal with people- while in law- it is crucial that you keep people at a distance. We talked about so much really- we just sat and talked and drank our coffee and ate our cake- and the whole conversation was in Czech, besides the few English words I’d throw in every once in awhile because I didn’t know the Czech word for what I was trying to say. We left and I thanked her, explaining that it was a nice day- and that with my last host mom I didn’t get this because she had a little one and had to take care of her. The sun was shining and we walked through the main square and back to the car- and it isn’t even as though we did all that much, but it was simply a nice outing. I really really like my new host mom- Iwas afraid initially as the Canadian didn’t seem to like this host family a whole lot, but then again we are two very different people and maybe they just didn’t mesh. However- I think we mesh, and I am rather excited as I’m almost positive there will be a noticeable difference in my Czech in me living here- and some memorable experiences as host mom and I seem to have quite a bit in common.
I was also reflecting on my last host family. You find yourself doing comparsions- it’s quite funny actually, but if you ever find yourself in the situation of having a new family every few months- I think you’ll understand. I liked my last host family overall, yet often I found myself feeling uncomfortable- out of place- and in the way. I think part of that had to do with the fact that the house was rather small and was housing five people a cat and a dog. Or perhaps it is because I felt ignored a lot of the time- I’m not sure exactly. I think while living there I had convinced myself that perhaps I was only making myself feel uncomfortable- that I was inflicting these feelings on myself. But being here for less than a week- I don’t think I was inflicting anything on myself- I simply think how I felt- was how it was. Because here I feel at ease, comfortable- and talked to. I go to events, to dance lessons- and my host parents actually ask me how they were when I get home- ask me what dances I learned, etc. They actually show a genuine interest in my life here. It is just a really nice feeling. A feeling I’ve truly missed for the last five months. It is funny the things you realize you value when they suddenly up and leave- things that seem insignificant, until they are gone.
Get out and live today.
Be true.
Be real.
Be you.
that's all anyone wants anyway---to know the real you
there's no time for pretending to be something your not.
Be you.
Live Life.
That's all.
simple.
that's all.
Across the Atlantic- but closer than you think
Sunday, January 20, 2008
On Growing up...
I am growing up- yet at a more rapid pace than I was prior to coming here- a pace that often I'm not so sure what to do with.
I have faults. lots and lots of faults- just like you.
I am horrible at confrontation
I am awful at initiating plans
I dread asking for things
When I'm at fault there is generally some sort of excuse.
Those things I listed all rang true when I arrived here- but it seems that in being here I've worked out those kinks.
I have had to confront people- because the other choice was living in discomfort, and despite how uncomfortable confrontation made me- I pushed myself to do it.
I quickly realized that if I didn't initiate plans that I would go without plans a vast majority of the time- and that would leave me alone- with too much time to think which is the last thing I needed- and so I began initiating.
I've had to learn to ask if I can go here or there, I have had to ask my friends to help me with things that the language barrier made difficult for me. I've had to depend on my friends for things that I generally could manage by myself.
And when I recently made my first OOPS in regards to my curfew- I apolgized for my mistake, without searching to find a valid excuse, there was none. I owned up to what I had done, because I was at fault.
It was rather funny, because I was quite afraid to emerge downstairs the next morning, and when I stood at my door contemplating when was the right moment to go downstairs- I heard host dad get home from work and host mom tell him that I hadn't gotten home until late- I was terrified in fact. I found it is one thing when you mess up with your own parents- they had you, it is more or less expected that you are going to mess up from time to time or even frequently. Yet, when messing up with people that are not your parents it is a whole different ball game.
I finally managed to get my feet to pitter patter down the stairs, and approached host mom. I explained that I was sorry, that there was no excuse, and that it would not happen again. I had thought that she would be angry with me, but instead she just smiled and told me that it was okay, that it was just dangerous and not safe- not a good idea, that she worries about me.
I have been living in this house for almost five months, and that is the first time I feel I have truly screwed up- and so perhaps that is why I was let off the hook so easily this time. The sigh of relief that was released after talking to her was rather large- and it was after I left that I realized- how I was deviating from patterns I'd created in my behavior.
Owning up to what you do, is never easy. No one wants to be wrong, to admit that they screwed up. Yet, as I was upstairs dreading downstairs going through excuses I could offer up- I stopped and realized that there was no point in an excuse. I would be more respected for simply owning up to what I'd done- excuses would have only made host mom lose trust in me, respect, and I quite possibly might not have been left off the hook so easily.
I SCREWED UP OKAY- I AM HUMAN- IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES- IT WASN'T THE FIRST TIME, AND I CAN PROMISE IT WON'T BE THE LAST.
BUT I WAS WRONG- AT FAULT- THIS IS ME OWNING UP TO IT.
so no excuses for my actions or behaviors- if I did it, if i am at fault- then alright- I DID IT, and I'll tell you.
I have way too much time to think here, and the other day I came across the word "Perfect" and realized that it is a rather interesting word.
We are constantly told that NOTHING is perfect, which would mean that it could not be used to describe ANYTHING.
However, we do use it- which means that when we do use it- we are talking about something that does not exist.
We can say "He has a perfect smile" but no he doesn't
or "She is perfect" but I'm telling you she's not
I know, a very random thought- sorry I can't control what pops into my head
I'm not Perfect.
I recently had my hair cut and colored.
It is awful and I do not believe I have ever felt more ugly in my life thus far.
And it is amazing to me to see how self validating our appearances are to us.
I do not consider myself to be a superficial person, but that is exactly how I have been acting in regards to my new hair.
I have been sad and upset, because I cannot stand the way in which I look,
yet why does that matter?
I am still the same person I was before I messed with my hair- I AM STILL ME
and after all other people have to look at me more than I have to look at myself- so what exactly is the problem?
I don't exactly know,
but I do not at all like the way in which I have been allowing myself to feel due to my hair.
After all IT IS ONLY HAIR. HAIR. JUST HAIR. Hair really is insignificant.
So here I am catching myself being entirely superficial- and I do not like it at all.
Yet again, I have faults- and I suppose we all are a bit superficial from time to time.
It is amazing how much you learn about yourself- when you have to rebuild your world.
I feel like I am some complex puzzle- that I'm slowly but surely given more and more pieces to. I am always excited to learn what else I will discover, what aspects of myself were hidden even from me. This I believe is what they call growing up.
And I don't think growing up ever ends- I don't belive there is a point where you are "All grown up" I think you can be more grown up than you previously were, but it is something I think you continously do through life. I am growing up now at 17, I will still be growing up at 27, 37, 47, etc. I don't believe you stop growing up until you take that last breath.
My host parents booked their flights to Portland today, to go visit their daughter in June. They want to rent a car and go to California, and I was telling them the distance- hours it takes to drive- something I'm quite familiar with. I told them that taking the coast is longer, but that it's beautiful. I told them about Seattle, my favorite parts of Portland. It is quite strange telling people about a place you are so familiar with- a place that you haven't occupied in quite sometime. It was strange because I got enjoyment out of telling them about a place I love, but I did not have the desire to go with them. I will return in due time.
Alright I've got to stop wrtiing now, off to the movies with friends- to watch a movie in Czech- haha we will see how much of it I understand. But it doesn't matter- I'm not really going for the movie- but to spend time with my friends- which I do every chance I get- because that "due time" is approaching. So I'm soaking it all up while I can.
Give yourself some "YOU" time
stop thinking about this person or that person for just awhile
Give to yourself
because just because you think others should give to you doesn't mean that they will
learn to feel the whole weight of your body upon your two feet
It's true you have others, yet it's also true you've always got yourself.
But you don't only have yourself,
you've at least got me too.
and I'm cheering for you and that life of yours.
Make it what you can.
If you want something in life, reach out and grab it.
just a fellow human being
I have faults. lots and lots of faults- just like you.
I am horrible at confrontation
I am awful at initiating plans
I dread asking for things
When I'm at fault there is generally some sort of excuse.
Those things I listed all rang true when I arrived here- but it seems that in being here I've worked out those kinks.
I have had to confront people- because the other choice was living in discomfort, and despite how uncomfortable confrontation made me- I pushed myself to do it.
I quickly realized that if I didn't initiate plans that I would go without plans a vast majority of the time- and that would leave me alone- with too much time to think which is the last thing I needed- and so I began initiating.
I've had to learn to ask if I can go here or there, I have had to ask my friends to help me with things that the language barrier made difficult for me. I've had to depend on my friends for things that I generally could manage by myself.
And when I recently made my first OOPS in regards to my curfew- I apolgized for my mistake, without searching to find a valid excuse, there was none. I owned up to what I had done, because I was at fault.
It was rather funny, because I was quite afraid to emerge downstairs the next morning, and when I stood at my door contemplating when was the right moment to go downstairs- I heard host dad get home from work and host mom tell him that I hadn't gotten home until late- I was terrified in fact. I found it is one thing when you mess up with your own parents- they had you, it is more or less expected that you are going to mess up from time to time or even frequently. Yet, when messing up with people that are not your parents it is a whole different ball game.
I finally managed to get my feet to pitter patter down the stairs, and approached host mom. I explained that I was sorry, that there was no excuse, and that it would not happen again. I had thought that she would be angry with me, but instead she just smiled and told me that it was okay, that it was just dangerous and not safe- not a good idea, that she worries about me.
I have been living in this house for almost five months, and that is the first time I feel I have truly screwed up- and so perhaps that is why I was let off the hook so easily this time. The sigh of relief that was released after talking to her was rather large- and it was after I left that I realized- how I was deviating from patterns I'd created in my behavior.
Owning up to what you do, is never easy. No one wants to be wrong, to admit that they screwed up. Yet, as I was upstairs dreading downstairs going through excuses I could offer up- I stopped and realized that there was no point in an excuse. I would be more respected for simply owning up to what I'd done- excuses would have only made host mom lose trust in me, respect, and I quite possibly might not have been left off the hook so easily.
I SCREWED UP OKAY- I AM HUMAN- IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES- IT WASN'T THE FIRST TIME, AND I CAN PROMISE IT WON'T BE THE LAST.
BUT I WAS WRONG- AT FAULT- THIS IS ME OWNING UP TO IT.
so no excuses for my actions or behaviors- if I did it, if i am at fault- then alright- I DID IT, and I'll tell you.
I have way too much time to think here, and the other day I came across the word "Perfect" and realized that it is a rather interesting word.
We are constantly told that NOTHING is perfect, which would mean that it could not be used to describe ANYTHING.
However, we do use it- which means that when we do use it- we are talking about something that does not exist.
We can say "He has a perfect smile" but no he doesn't
or "She is perfect" but I'm telling you she's not
I know, a very random thought- sorry I can't control what pops into my head
I'm not Perfect.
I recently had my hair cut and colored.
It is awful and I do not believe I have ever felt more ugly in my life thus far.
And it is amazing to me to see how self validating our appearances are to us.
I do not consider myself to be a superficial person, but that is exactly how I have been acting in regards to my new hair.
I have been sad and upset, because I cannot stand the way in which I look,
yet why does that matter?
I am still the same person I was before I messed with my hair- I AM STILL ME
and after all other people have to look at me more than I have to look at myself- so what exactly is the problem?
I don't exactly know,
but I do not at all like the way in which I have been allowing myself to feel due to my hair.
After all IT IS ONLY HAIR. HAIR. JUST HAIR. Hair really is insignificant.
So here I am catching myself being entirely superficial- and I do not like it at all.
Yet again, I have faults- and I suppose we all are a bit superficial from time to time.
It is amazing how much you learn about yourself- when you have to rebuild your world.
I feel like I am some complex puzzle- that I'm slowly but surely given more and more pieces to. I am always excited to learn what else I will discover, what aspects of myself were hidden even from me. This I believe is what they call growing up.
And I don't think growing up ever ends- I don't belive there is a point where you are "All grown up" I think you can be more grown up than you previously were, but it is something I think you continously do through life. I am growing up now at 17, I will still be growing up at 27, 37, 47, etc. I don't believe you stop growing up until you take that last breath.
My host parents booked their flights to Portland today, to go visit their daughter in June. They want to rent a car and go to California, and I was telling them the distance- hours it takes to drive- something I'm quite familiar with. I told them that taking the coast is longer, but that it's beautiful. I told them about Seattle, my favorite parts of Portland. It is quite strange telling people about a place you are so familiar with- a place that you haven't occupied in quite sometime. It was strange because I got enjoyment out of telling them about a place I love, but I did not have the desire to go with them. I will return in due time.
Alright I've got to stop wrtiing now, off to the movies with friends- to watch a movie in Czech- haha we will see how much of it I understand. But it doesn't matter- I'm not really going for the movie- but to spend time with my friends- which I do every chance I get- because that "due time" is approaching. So I'm soaking it all up while I can.
Give yourself some "YOU" time
stop thinking about this person or that person for just awhile
Give to yourself
because just because you think others should give to you doesn't mean that they will
learn to feel the whole weight of your body upon your two feet
It's true you have others, yet it's also true you've always got yourself.
But you don't only have yourself,
you've at least got me too.
and I'm cheering for you and that life of yours.
Make it what you can.
If you want something in life, reach out and grab it.
just a fellow human being
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
" I Ain't Settlin' for Anything Less Than Everything"
Everything is relative. individual. Everything to some, is not everything to others.
My everything would have a far different definition than your everything.
This is how dictionary.com defines "everything"
eve·ry·thing [ev-ree-thing] Pronunciation Key -
–pronoun 1. every thing or particular of an aggregate or total; all.
2. something extremely important: This news means everything to us.
–noun 3. something that is extremely or most important: Money is his everything.
and here is my EVERYTHING:
Mom and Zane
- singing "Girls Lie Too" for the millionth time at the top of our lungs, with the sun glasses on, and the windows down- making memories.
- buying massive mailboxes at junk yards- and not realizing the signifigance until after
- sleepless nights fueled by shell
- good conversation over coffee
- being told I'm loved more than anything in the whole entire world
- date nights with the brother- dinner and the movies
DETAILS
THE SMALL THINGS
THE SIMPLICITIES IN LIFE
give me an avacado
a tea bag
a ten cent package of the clear BIC pens with the black caps
give me a good conversation
a used book from Powells
some one of a kind item from Value Village
GETTING TRUE GENUINE HAPPINESS FROM THOSE THINGS- is part of my everything
Giving away my words- sending them off to the eyes of others- letting them resonate through the lives of others- and hopefully impacting someone in some way, shape, or form, from time to time.
Giving in general. Once again- small things. personal things.
Paying attention to people- and truly knowing them(once again reverts back to the whole DETAIL concept)
EVERYTHING- is going to change as the years pass
MY EVERYTHING- is going to change
and so is YOUR EVERYTHING
so enjoy your EVERYTHING in the here and now. Enjoy it while you have it....
because it is all too true that in a matter of months EVERYTHING that my life currently consists of- My enviornment, my day to to day life, my friends, the people influencing me- EVERYTHING will change.
But it's in realizing that EVERYTHING changes, and that it's simply part of life that I'm going to be able to cope with that...EVERYTHING will be okay.
So thats that.
And then there is our upcoming 2008 presidential election, and well, they don't call it a race for no reason. I've always mostly been unaware of presidential elections, I was younger and it was of no importance to me.
I've been having to keep up to date on the internet, visiting all the candidates websites reading all about them and their views on issues, their goals and plans for the country should they be elected.
And being that in fact this is a race, it is natural that they all want to come across that finish line first. If they were a product, they would want to sell themselves. But this is where I become irritated. This is politics we are talking about- so there is no cut and cry. HELLLO POLITICS. POLITICIANS. there is no cut and dry to be found.
But here is the deal, each candidate wants to win. Each candidate needs to appeal to the population in order to claim office. They each have to state THEIR views on various issues. But that's is my question. Are they really THEIR views? Or are they the views that they think a vast majority of people will hold. I suppose I'm not really asking a question, more making a statement.
It is true that when campaigning in a presidential election you cannot stay 100% true to all of your views- unless of course you are in the race to lose.
I get to vote in the upcoming race, and I was initially very excited about this. You know, getting to take a stand, make my opinion count towards what the future of our country is to look like. I'm not so excited now, as I am cautious. Voting to me, seems like quite the gambling game- you are given a glimpse of the candidates although cannot be certain what they will truly do until they are placed in office, and then, well, if it doesn't turn out how you'd thought it's a bit too late to go back and change your mind.
I will vote in this gambling game, my vote will count towards something. What exactly it's counting towards, that is the question- and not one you nor I can answer.
Oh the joys of politics...if the founding fathers could see us now.
My current host family took off for the week to go to the mountains, my assumption is that they didn't take me because of the obvious fact that I do not know how to ski. Which makes sense I suppose, why are you going to drag someone along on a ski trip if they don't know how to ski?
Anyways, so my current host mom arranged it so that for the week I would be staying with my new host family. I was informed of this on Friday, and was given the weekend to mentally prepare myself, although I was still nervous; scared, etc.
Yesterday was Monday, so around 6:30 p.m. I hopped the bus to my new host families house. Host Mom happened to be taking the garbage out as I was walking up to the door, so she looked up and smiled and me, put the garbage down and took me inside.
She didn't say one word in english, but instead began immediately speaking czech to me. She explained where my key was, and to just put it back on friday when I left. She then led me to my room, showed me the closet where I could put my stuff, and asked me if I was hungry.
I sat eating dinner across from host mom, as we talked about various things- all in Czech. She told me about her son and how he is currently in New York, on exchange, how he recently broke his thumb playing basketball. She told me about her job, about being a Judge and dealing with Criminal Law. I told her how I want to become a lawyer, and she told me that when I live with her I can come watch some of the court hearings- see how the European Continental System of law works. It was really good, and I think my Czech will get a lot better when I live there.
Host Dad and Host Sister seem nice as well, but are also awfully shy- so it will take me awhile to get a true feel for them. But I think it's going to be good.
I don't move there until the first week of March, which when I thought about it made me realize that by that time I will have lived with my current family for 6 months- which is a very long time. Time is passing at a rather rapid pace. really rapid.
So going to stay with my next host family was the first main event of the week...
the next comes friday
when I have to meet my 25 year old dance partner to go to dance lessons.
Mind you, I have never met this boy, nor have I ever even heard of this dance that I am about to learn.
This would all be the work of Rotary.
They are having a ball- are making us go to dance lessons to learn a dance for it- and asked that we have partners...
and so I recruited my friends to help- and my friend asked her friend- and there you go 25 year old is what came out of it.
I'm only hoping that it is going to be okay with Rotary- this would so not go over well at home- but then again, I'm not home.
Hope all is well
in whatever city, in which ever region of the world you find yourself,
I hope life is good-
that you are taking time to appreciate those in your life
and making a mental note of all the small things that make life incredible.
I read today on someone's folder at school
"Life is a Party" and so I say this:
so be the host
don't wait for someone else to throw a party
throw your own.
Be happy being you.
Oh and for those of you that think I'm funny
you might find humor in this,
because I did-
today the other girl from Washington came to visit
and I accidently coughed on her
and she said " Why did you cough on me?"
and I said, " I didn't, I was gracefully clearing my throat."
haha
if you don't find it funny- then I guess you had to be there.
Make today count- It will be gone tomorrow
My everything would have a far different definition than your everything.
This is how dictionary.com defines "everything"
eve·ry·thing [ev-ree-thing] Pronunciation Key -
–pronoun 1. every thing or particular of an aggregate or total; all.
2. something extremely important: This news means everything to us.
–noun 3. something that is extremely or most important: Money is his everything.
and here is my EVERYTHING:
Mom and Zane
- singing "Girls Lie Too" for the millionth time at the top of our lungs, with the sun glasses on, and the windows down- making memories.
- buying massive mailboxes at junk yards- and not realizing the signifigance until after
- sleepless nights fueled by shell
- good conversation over coffee
- being told I'm loved more than anything in the whole entire world
- date nights with the brother- dinner and the movies
DETAILS
THE SMALL THINGS
THE SIMPLICITIES IN LIFE
give me an avacado
a tea bag
a ten cent package of the clear BIC pens with the black caps
give me a good conversation
a used book from Powells
some one of a kind item from Value Village
GETTING TRUE GENUINE HAPPINESS FROM THOSE THINGS- is part of my everything
Giving away my words- sending them off to the eyes of others- letting them resonate through the lives of others- and hopefully impacting someone in some way, shape, or form, from time to time.
Giving in general. Once again- small things. personal things.
Paying attention to people- and truly knowing them(once again reverts back to the whole DETAIL concept)
EVERYTHING- is going to change as the years pass
MY EVERYTHING- is going to change
and so is YOUR EVERYTHING
so enjoy your EVERYTHING in the here and now. Enjoy it while you have it....
because it is all too true that in a matter of months EVERYTHING that my life currently consists of- My enviornment, my day to to day life, my friends, the people influencing me- EVERYTHING will change.
But it's in realizing that EVERYTHING changes, and that it's simply part of life that I'm going to be able to cope with that...EVERYTHING will be okay.
So thats that.
And then there is our upcoming 2008 presidential election, and well, they don't call it a race for no reason. I've always mostly been unaware of presidential elections, I was younger and it was of no importance to me.
I've been having to keep up to date on the internet, visiting all the candidates websites reading all about them and their views on issues, their goals and plans for the country should they be elected.
And being that in fact this is a race, it is natural that they all want to come across that finish line first. If they were a product, they would want to sell themselves. But this is where I become irritated. This is politics we are talking about- so there is no cut and cry. HELLLO POLITICS. POLITICIANS. there is no cut and dry to be found.
But here is the deal, each candidate wants to win. Each candidate needs to appeal to the population in order to claim office. They each have to state THEIR views on various issues. But that's is my question. Are they really THEIR views? Or are they the views that they think a vast majority of people will hold. I suppose I'm not really asking a question, more making a statement.
It is true that when campaigning in a presidential election you cannot stay 100% true to all of your views- unless of course you are in the race to lose.
I get to vote in the upcoming race, and I was initially very excited about this. You know, getting to take a stand, make my opinion count towards what the future of our country is to look like. I'm not so excited now, as I am cautious. Voting to me, seems like quite the gambling game- you are given a glimpse of the candidates although cannot be certain what they will truly do until they are placed in office, and then, well, if it doesn't turn out how you'd thought it's a bit too late to go back and change your mind.
I will vote in this gambling game, my vote will count towards something. What exactly it's counting towards, that is the question- and not one you nor I can answer.
Oh the joys of politics...if the founding fathers could see us now.
My current host family took off for the week to go to the mountains, my assumption is that they didn't take me because of the obvious fact that I do not know how to ski. Which makes sense I suppose, why are you going to drag someone along on a ski trip if they don't know how to ski?
Anyways, so my current host mom arranged it so that for the week I would be staying with my new host family. I was informed of this on Friday, and was given the weekend to mentally prepare myself, although I was still nervous; scared, etc.
Yesterday was Monday, so around 6:30 p.m. I hopped the bus to my new host families house. Host Mom happened to be taking the garbage out as I was walking up to the door, so she looked up and smiled and me, put the garbage down and took me inside.
She didn't say one word in english, but instead began immediately speaking czech to me. She explained where my key was, and to just put it back on friday when I left. She then led me to my room, showed me the closet where I could put my stuff, and asked me if I was hungry.
I sat eating dinner across from host mom, as we talked about various things- all in Czech. She told me about her son and how he is currently in New York, on exchange, how he recently broke his thumb playing basketball. She told me about her job, about being a Judge and dealing with Criminal Law. I told her how I want to become a lawyer, and she told me that when I live with her I can come watch some of the court hearings- see how the European Continental System of law works. It was really good, and I think my Czech will get a lot better when I live there.
Host Dad and Host Sister seem nice as well, but are also awfully shy- so it will take me awhile to get a true feel for them. But I think it's going to be good.
I don't move there until the first week of March, which when I thought about it made me realize that by that time I will have lived with my current family for 6 months- which is a very long time. Time is passing at a rather rapid pace. really rapid.
So going to stay with my next host family was the first main event of the week...
the next comes friday
when I have to meet my 25 year old dance partner to go to dance lessons.
Mind you, I have never met this boy, nor have I ever even heard of this dance that I am about to learn.
This would all be the work of Rotary.
They are having a ball- are making us go to dance lessons to learn a dance for it- and asked that we have partners...
and so I recruited my friends to help- and my friend asked her friend- and there you go 25 year old is what came out of it.
I'm only hoping that it is going to be okay with Rotary- this would so not go over well at home- but then again, I'm not home.
Hope all is well
in whatever city, in which ever region of the world you find yourself,
I hope life is good-
that you are taking time to appreciate those in your life
and making a mental note of all the small things that make life incredible.
I read today on someone's folder at school
"Life is a Party" and so I say this:
so be the host
don't wait for someone else to throw a party
throw your own.
Be happy being you.
Oh and for those of you that think I'm funny
you might find humor in this,
because I did-
today the other girl from Washington came to visit
and I accidently coughed on her
and she said " Why did you cough on me?"
and I said, " I didn't, I was gracefully clearing my throat."
haha
if you don't find it funny- then I guess you had to be there.
Make today count- It will be gone tomorrow
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
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.
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.
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