A Little R&R

Hello everyone, long time no see! Sorry for the hiatus, but I needed some time away from the
public forum to regroup and let some things marinate for a while. Let's see, what have I been up to since you last heard from me...

Paul and I took a trip to Tahoe with a group of friends. Parts of the trip were fun, like the night we stayed in and cooked up some lasagne and spent the night drinking wine and Blue Moon (the unofficial official beer of Tahoe it seems) while we played Taboo and Apples to Apples. My two friends Marissa and Jeff, the couple who planned the trip, are the two most competitive people in our group of friends, probably in all of creation, so it was great fun and verbal fireworks when we played boys against girls Taboo. My motion sickness/nausea/migranes/possible altitude sickness and then the drugs to counteract said sicknesses which made me super sleepy had me pretty much out for the count during most of the weekend. I didn't go skiing, partly due to the sickness and partly due to my fear that I will never find ski boots the fit me properly, but I did ride the gondola up to Adventure Peak to go tubing on day two. And of course, no force of nature or sickness can keep me away from trolling the gift shops for treasures.

Almost as soon as we got back from Tahoe, Paul was off again to Washington D.C. to attend the AIA Grassroots conference. He got to hobknob with some architecture greats at the conference Gala including John Carl Warnecke, the Architect responsible for JFK's eternal flame memorial at Arlington National Cemetary.

While he was gone, I decided to use the extra free time to do a lot something I love -curling up in a comfy chair at Borders or Barnes and Noble (I alternated) with a good book or writing in my journal for hours. I also had lunch with my wonderful friend Michele and a sleepover at my mother-in-law's.

I was a reading fool last week! I finished Perseopolis: The Story of a Childhood in a couple of days and it was really a good read. Its a graphic novel memoir, telling the story of Marjane Satrapi growing up in Iran during the time of revolution. The writing style was both humorous and poignant showed the changes in Iran and in one family's life because of the revolution. The movie based on this book and its sequel (which was also good, better than the first, in my opinon) was up for an academy award this weekend for best animated film. I'm hoping that the theatre near my house that usually gets the less mainstream movies usually reserved for New York and LA is showing it.

I'm also reading Love in the Time of Cholera. I LOVE this book. At the risk of sounding like I should be recieving social security, they just don't make books like that anymore. The first 50 pages were agonizingly slow and confusing. Where is thte love story? Where are the main characters mentioned on the back cover? Who is this boring doctor? However, I think it is well worth enduring that part for the rich story that follows. And don't worry, I wasn't one of the masses that bought it when Oprah chose it as her book club selection. No, I was way ahead of the trend when I picked it up a few years ago when it was featured in Serendipity, the John Cusack/ Kate Beckinsdale romantic comedy.

Well, that's about all for now. Since I have been getting into yoga again lately, I'll leave you with Namaste.

Set Your DVRs and TiVos

I have desperately been trying to post something witty and interesting this week, but my full time teaching, Japanese class and Grad Research class have sucked all of the creative energy I would like to funnel into writing blog posts out of me.

I nearly had a break down on Thursday after finding out that the researchers I had learily agreed to videotape my class a few times told me they would be back next Tuesday and Thursday too. I was under the impression that they would tape 3 classes total (which is uncomfortable enough), not 3 in the beginning, 3 in the middle and 3 at the end. That is practically the whole semester! And I hate being videotaped, hate it, hate it, hate it. I didn't even like being videotaped on my wedding day. It adds a feeling of complete panic to whatever I am doing not only during the taping, but also before and after for me. In fact, I can feel my blood pressure going up right now just thinking about it. I am trying to find a way to trick my mind into putting a positive spin on the whole thing. Like I'm the star of my own reality TV show. Except I don't get to travel around the world and go bungee jumping or ride in a dragon boat or anything like that.

After talking to Paul about it, I felt a little better and decided to audit both of my classes rather than taking them for credit. Hopefully this will relieve some of the pressure and give me a little more time for some creative pursuits.

On a happier note, my good friend and super talented artist Matt, who was my partner in crime during my study abroad days in Spain, is making his television debut! After doing plenty of as a starving artist, his work has recently been showcased in New York, Chicago, Reno and probably more that I don't even know about. Thanks to this exposure and press appearance in The Advocate last year his business has really taken off and has allowed him to paint full time. I am so proud of him and love to see that all of his hard work and determination to follow his dream has paid off.

Please check him out tomorrow on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition where he painted a "Reflection of the Buddahs" mural in Ty's "Secret Room" for the Gilyeat family in Kansas City. The show airs tomorrow, Sunday February 10 on ABC at 8/7 central.

Respect Your Elders

I am officially the oldest person in my Japanese class. I walked in Tuesday to this conversation between some of my classmates who discovered that they had gone to the same high school.

Class of 2007 girl: I thought you looked familiar! I went to Blah Blah Academy too. I was in student government. I graduated class of 2007.

Class of 2005 guy: I was class of 2005. Man, now I feel old.

Me: Whoa, I feel really old. I’ve got 10 years on some of you guys!

Luckily, I have one classmate, Page-san, who wasn’t born after New Kids on the Block went out of style. Good thing for us that the Japanese culture teaches respect for elders.

Less is More

Sorry I've been away for so long. Or as I can now say in Japanese, Shitsudesu shimashita. I can even write that in fancy Hiragana characters now!

Since I wasn't crossing as many things off of my to-do list last semester with my convenient Tuesday/ Thursday teaching schedule with nice long weekends, this semester I decided to test out a theory of mine.

The more time on my hands, it would seem that the more time I would have to pursue all sorts of interests- fitting in some more yoga and gym time, reading, blogging, finding ways to save the world, etc. However, in reality, since free time was in abundance I found myself feeling like I could always do it later. Kind of like the Spanish mañana syndrome.

So my theory was this: the less free time I have, the more likely I am to fill it up with more productive and worthwhile than catching up on daytime TV. So this semester, I took advantage
of the #2 perk that comes with teaching for the university system (#1 of course being summer and winter break between semesters). For every credit I teach, I can take 1 for free. So along with the 4 classes I am teaching I am also taking Beginning Japanese and another grad class about conducting classroom research.

The results so far? If the they were playing in the Superbowl, it would be a really close game between super productive and really freakin' tired. In fact, I think I've already gone into overtime.

Back to School

Well folks, this is the last week of my winter vacation since the Spring semester starts up on Tuesday. I've had a good long time off so I really can't complain.

The greater part of my week has consisted of burying my nose in my textbooks to prep for the coming week. I've been reading textbooks on my couch, reading textbooks at Panera Bread, reading textbooks in the comfy chairs at Borders and reading textbooks at the gym while bobbing up and down on the elliptical machine and attempting not to throw up.

I'm teaching 4 classes this semester. One is a grammar class, 2 are experimental CALL (computer assisted language learning) classes and the fourth is an advanced reading and writing course using short stories and poems in American literature to help my students develop their English skills (can you tell I've just been writing course objectives?). I'm really excited to teach from the textbook I'm using for the reading/writing class. It has a great collection of works and really thought provoking exercises and writing prompts but its really in depth and I underestimated the time it would take to read and prepare for the class.

Tonight I just looked over what I've finished prepping for the week/semester and I am feeling much more at ease with my level of preparation, but Monday of this week I was freaking out, brain on massive overload and in the poetry vein I wrote some haikus, mostly just as a distraction from reading. Maybe some of you teachers who want the summer to stretch on forever can relate.

Words crammed in my ears
the deafening echo of
procrastination

Textbooks are so long
Why did I wait 'til so late
to read them? F*&%! S&%$!

The Speech Not Given

This is a post I started before the holidays and finally finished.

Last Friday I got to dress up in my cap and gown (and fancy polyester hood this time!) and walk across the stage to accept my Master's degree. After all of the pomp and circumstance and speeches were done, the 2 + hours of reading the names of the graduates began so I had a lot of time to think.

It was one of my goals last year to speak at my graduation. However, as the deadline for speaker applications loomed this October, I let myself get wrapped up in creating midterms and lesson plans, grading essays and preparing to teach a new class that began at mid semester. Along with all of those excuses, maybe I let a little fear creep in too. As I let the deadline slip past I was disappointed that I hadn't pushed myself to submit something. I eventually made peace with myself about it, but if I had spoken, here is what I would have said:

Beginning a new chapter of your life is at the same time exhilarating and terrifying. We reflect on the choices we have made and the choices that will shape the rest of our lives. We ask ourselves again - What am I supposed to do with my life? Is this really what I'm supposed to do with my life? Am I on the right track? What if I know what I want to do but I'm not the best at it yet?

Questions like these can be the cause of many sleepless nights. Cues in society have taught us to believe that every person is born with a dream and singleness of purpose that is the key to our fulfillment. Think about the movies we watch - Indiana Jones is always searching for ancient relics, Bridget Jones wants to get her guy. But we don't think about the fact that movies need this single purpose to drive the plot and that the extraneous real life details get edited out. If we don't know, if we have our doubts or uncertainties or setbacks, we feel like we've got some kind of manufacturer's defect. Its hard to look at someone like Oprah Winfrey and picture her having to warm up to the idea of hosting a talk show because she was considering a career as a lumberjack or professional figure skater. But people who feel that they have a "calling" to do something in life may be the exceptions rather than the rule. The path to achieving your personal ideal of success and fulfillment is often paved with difficulties, mistakes and rarely has a linear or neatly marked path.



Earlier this year I went to a book group convention to hear one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Gilbert, speak. At the end of the panel discussion the moderator turned the mic over to the audience for questions. One attendee asked, "Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?" Though seemingly simple, I thought that this was an important and telling question. I believe this person was really asking for confirmation of a more important question about herself - "Am I supposed to know what I want to do? Am I supposed to have some calling or epiphany? What if I've missed it? What if I don't know?"

Elizabeth and author Sara Davidson answered that they had been creating worlds with their pen and paper from a young age but Po Bronson , author of five books including What Should I Do With My Life? (which I got 2 copies of for Christmas) and a regular contributor to prominent newspapers, magazines, television and radio gave a surprising and somewhat relieving answer. As a kid, Po was in his words, a "math guy." His high school teachers told him that his writing was messy and unintelligible it wasn't something that came easily to him. It wasn't until late in his college education that Po wrote a letter that was published in his college newspaper. With graduation looming, many seniors were terrified at the thought of having to know for sure what they'd be doing the next year after college. Many students were comforted by his essay titled "Being Po," which is what he quipped that he'd be doing in the next year.

There's Po in the middle at the Book Group Expo

Po was buoyed by his classmates' comments on the essay and felt a faint whisper of possibility that he was actually a good writer. It wasn't a big epiphany or booming voice from above bestowing his purpose on him like some of us expect. Just a whisper. A hint.

After that experience, Po went on with his life. He finished his course of study in economics and over several years spent crunching numbers and doing, in his words, "mind-numbing" jobs, he decided to trust that whisper and gradually honed his skills as a journalist and storyteller. He has since written five books translated into eight different languages, articles for the New York Times, Time, New York Magazine, NPR Morning Edition and has appeared on Oprah and many major morning shows. Although it wasn't a career he instinctively knew he was supposed pursue when he was 5 years old, he eventually learned to listen to the whispers and wasn't afraid to fail on the way to being good. Or maybe he was and just did it anyway. As it turned out for Po, those subtle whispers of possibility paid off and took him some place wonderful but totally unexpected.

So if you haven't had your whole life planned out since you ditched the Spiderman undies or training bra, learn to listen for the subtle clues in the world around you. Don't discount a calling just because its not obvious, loud and clear. Be open to the unexpected opportunities life has in store. As Norman Vaughan says, "Dream big and dare to fail," and listen to the whispers.

Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are

I am very excited to see that the hit counter for this blog has tipped past the 500 mark (and only half of those are me checking in throughout the week, I swear!). So thanks to all of you for stopping by and reading. And on that note, this week is national de-lurking week in the blog world (thanks Nanette at Say It Don't Spray It! for the info) so if you've been reading please leave me a comment to introduce yourself and leave me a link to your blog or website if you have one. I love getting a glimpse into other people's thoughts and lives.