Are you sure you mean free? F-R-E-E? You mean I get it for nothing? -Lucy (I Love Lucy)

Today I had this conversation:

Mom: "Noël, do you want a couch and a double chair for free?"
Me: "Sure. Where and what?"
Mom: "It's a 1 year old set that my friend's parents don't want anymore. They paid $3000.00 for it and they want to give it away. Do you want it?"
Me: "Of course! How much?"
Mom:"It's free. They want to give it to you."
Me: "Silence. Maybe I was pinching myself. I can't seem to remember.

Please meet my new pets: Hush Puppy #1 and Hush Puppy #2. I got them tonight at Gottschalks. Gottschalks and Hush Puppies, is comparable to Dillards and Koret, and if you don't understand that simile, ask your grandmother.

My $12.00 black high heels that I bought to supplement my nice work outfits give me the power of height that I require in junior high schools, and the heel is a perfect echo on tile floors of a classroom to silence a whisper or a stray eye during exams. Unfortunately this afternoon I limped back to my fourth grade classroom after walking the kids to the busline. (Insert an Awww). It really is time now to say goodbye to power in the form of my black heels. They smoosh my toes, require my knees to take all of the impact of standing or walking, and they are stiff.

My new Hush Puppies are absolutely the most comfortable shoes I have ever had or slipped on, even more than slippers! They squish and bend and have a slight incline, can be worn dressy or casual, and then you also have the advantage of durability.

Okay, enough of the advertisement. I guess I just wanted to admit publicly that style and comfort can come together peacefully.

As you can imagine, being an ACU attendee I have tons of friends getting married. I hear bits and pieces of wedding details, receive facebook invitations, and see all of their honeymoon albums posted on their webpages.
I had this thought today after reading about a distant friend's stress over her upcoming wedding (even though it is still almost 7 months away) and I wanted to know how you would respond if someone did this to you.
I have to first be clear that sometimes (most of the time) mischief just finds me. I never have to go looking for it. I had this brilliant idea to play a trick on her by asking if I could be one of her bridesmaids. I would never actually do this, but I was feeling very funny to think how audacious this would make me seem. Also, she would have no idea that I was joking because I would simply send her a facebook message with this written:
Jessica, can I please be one of your bridesmaids?
How many people would she tell? How far would my name go? Why do I always wish my life were a tv show so that I could actually do things like this?!

Do answers come in mud puddles?

I'm sipping a late afternoon cappucinno and just came in from outside. The afternoon was wonderful; windy, cool, crisp, sunny, just like fall should be. I painted with my watercolors while Patrick read and I have to say I'm not at all pleased with my picture. The fence is good, but my tree is terrible! I'm sure one of my nieces or nephews could paint one that is comparable or much better. I like to paint, write, play the piano, and read. I did all of those things today in addition to taking a nap, making fresh bread, and playing Tetris on Patrick's X-Box. It really does sound like a great day... the problem is that my eyes were crossed all day. Not really crossed-- like when you were little and stared at your nose then had adults tell you they would get stuck, it was more of a disoriented unable to focus them crossed.
I've been sick again, ailed by an unknown something. It has recently become unbearable to wake up at two in the morning unable to breathe and have really bad chest pain or to have to go to bed at two in the afternoon because I nearly pass out and cannot walk because my muscles are so weak.
I had four viles of blood drawn to test for Mono, Valley Fever, to check my thyroid and liver, get a complete analysis of my blood in case I have anemia and to make sure that I am not deficient in another area. This morning I met with my doctor for a second appointment to find that all tests were normal and above average even! They suspect an autoimmune disease of some sort.
My question to myself that prompted this blog is "what now"? I am blessed with the irony of being perfectly healthy and perfectly unhealthy. That is distressing. I am constantly pushing a heavy cart uphill, trying to live a normal life but when I need to stand in front of a Jr. High school classroom to settle the yelling and suddenly I don't have the strength even to speak I sit frozen in a chair and beg for supernatural strength. Sometimes it comes, sometimes I fight and swallow back tears, and sometimes I just sit frozen as the longest 45 minutes of my life pass. What now?
People always struggle with physical sickness and inability. I know that I am not abnormal, but my question is how do you ingnore it and what can be done but what I am doing? Will it ever get better or will my world always be blurred by occular muscles that are unable to cooperate?
The doctors want to send my to a neurologist or another specialist involved in treating autoimmune disorders. Perfect, oh wait, not so perfect. I am a proud, humble "Cash Patient." This means that I am not fortunate enough to be employed by a company that will pay an exorbetant $5,000 health care deductible per year and I am not able to dip that far into my savings. That would not be "good for my healthy," my Chinese students would say, and so I am unsure of what I need to do next.
Oh, that reminds me, has anyone heard from God lately? Just curious because I've been waiting for a few weeks for His advice. I don't mean that irreverently, it is simply that I have faithfully been seeking His guidence and peace. In return I've gotten one response. Trust.
I guess it's good then that I have to.

I feel like I'm supposed to clean

Patrick is working today and I'm at home as the unemployed spouse. We're both substitute teaching, but today he has a job and I don't. My immediate comment as he was walking out the door was, "do you want me to do laundry today?"
Let me say first, that I have only done laundry about 2 times since we've been married. I help Patrick and put it away, but he usually initiates the process of cleaning our clothes. Second, If I am going to do something I usually just do it without asking if Patrick wants me to, of course he wants clean clothes.
Now that it is 1pm and he has been gone for at least 5 hours I'm still wondering why I had a sudden and immediate need to do laundry and to let Patrick know that I also would be working the day away on the home front. I've cleaned the bathroom, our bedroom, sorted the laundry, done a little art project, and brainstormed that my mom should paint the kitchen. This as a total is more than I have done on any given day since I can remember. I'm very tidy, clean, and crafty, but I can't remember feeling that I must do all of these things and gone about it with a spring in my step and a womanly feeling in my heart.
I am not a feminist or discontent with the role that women have played in the past, but I can't say that I have ever desired to be "housewife-y" instead of have a career (especially since I don't plan to have children and would then just clean and run errands all day).
Well I must attend to my baking. I have a fresh apple pie in the oven (just kidding). I hope I get a job tomorrow.

I like Staci and Jim. Thanks for making great comments on both of my previous posts.

I learned that quality and special friendships are few and far between, but possible. Thanks Staci for your encouragement and wisdom. Jim, ping-pong playing is definitely a qualification for a great friend ;)

Texas has a lot of good things to offer! I love all of my friends, my family, ACU, BBQ, "friendly driving" (masked by an enforced 60mph on the highways), an amazing huge blue sky, and of course Patrick.

A&M was justified in going for a conversion since they were forced by regulation (thanks Jim). I am still sad, in my heart, but I guess I am proud of A&M for doing something we could not.

I love that people can make a difference in your life, even if they are miles away. Thanks guys!

Down with A&M

I am not usually a sports fan. I like to play and watch a good game, but I only have one team, Fresno State football. My family has season tickets and we've been following the Bulldogs for as long as I can remember. Today they played A&M in Texas. The score was 39:39 in triple overtime. A&M not only scored, but they chose a 2pt. conversion instead of a field goal forcing Fresno State to make a touch down and also a conversion. Fresno made the touchdown and the score was 45:47. My heart raced with adrenaline and the annoyingly loud A&M crowd drowned out the radio announcer but I heard enough to know that they missed the conversion and lost. I may have to re-think this decision but from this point forward I am swearing off of all things Texas!

Can someone please help me understand girls?!

I have suffered in female friendships since the time I was five (and probably before but I just can't remember). In Kindergarten I was always made to be the dog when we played house, I always lost recess games because the girls would change the rules midway to make me lose. In 4th grade my best friend said that she was going to cross me out of our best friends picture in red ink because it symbolized that I was dead (creepy little girl). Jr. high wasn't much better; I wasn't sure who would be my friend on any given day. In high school I got smart and stopped really caring about friends and put more effort into school. Somehow I became popular and had more friends than I could want, but this began stage two of annoying female traits. I have made a list below:
-Projection: they never listen but assume that they know exactly what you're talking about because they went through the same exact thing (they think. But, if they were to actually listen they would realize that you are completely different and process things as an entirely different human being). Example: Girl calls to ask how marriage is. I respond that I love it and that I learn new things about Patrick every day. They laugh and say "Oh, just wait. Soon those won't be such pleasant new things." The first year is always the best, or always the worst, they say, and then I get to hear their entire story (which is fine). Actually I love every new thing I learn about Patrick, but they wouldn't ever know that.

-Inferiority: I am not one to talk or condemn others for feeling insecure, but it is a negative tendency that I try to overcome. I hate that it is impossible to maintain friendships with another female because they always second guess the friendship. Does she really like me, do I really like her, are we compatible, did I talk our friendship to death last time I had a problem, she didn't call me back, I called her last, etc. etc.

-Purpose: You would think that purpose is good, but females twist it and take this to the extreme. They insist that they must have a reason to call, an excuse to interrupt a friend's busy schedule, or they trip over themselves with apology for not having called soon enough. I cannot think of the last time a friend called me out of the blue to say hi. Only to check on dates or schedules or to intentionally get an update on my life to preserve the state of friendship.

-Time: Time is a measure for how frequently a friend must be contacted to remain a "close friend". It is also a measure for the length of a standard appropriate conversation. Have you ever heard a woman say, "Oh, I can't call now. I don't have time." I propose that you call and say, "I just wanted to say hi and that I was thinking of you. That is all for now. Bye." Is that wrong?
If I have not contacted a friend within a certain time frame they ask me why (seriously). I had a friend tell me that she hadn't heard from someone in a while and that she had no further interest in maintaining that friendship if the other girl wasn't going to uphold her end of the responsibility.

-Cliche advice: How many times can you be told that the only way to please your husband is physically?! How many times can you be told to stop being emotional? How many times can you be told that someone is 'praying for you' and that 'God is in control'? I don't even need to ask friends for their opinions or advice anymore because I actually know exactly what they are going to say before they say it. These cliches are not bad. They are good and have consequently evolved into a language between females, but the problem is that we are all so different. I actually am rarely emotional and need to work on feeling more often (despite what I have been advised over and over). Example: Patrick has had a hard day and I want to be nice or take care of him and make him feel special. Women will swear that a husband needs his wife physically to solve any problem. I have been told over and over that a cure for a disagreement, a cure for a bad day, a cure to getting something from him is to please him physically. I'm pretty sure that sounds manipulative and like Delilah, how is that loving your husband? Anyway, Patrick wants me...all of me, my attention and time, and friendship, and a spiritual companionship just as much as anything else.

-Personal space violation: Women love to hug and maintain eye contact and smile and giggle and say things like: sweetheart, darling, hon, and poor thing. I am none of these and I will most likely clinch my teeth if you call me these. Furthermore, I don't like hugging anyone but Patrick, not even my family really. Trust me, women have tried to psychoanalyze my "unfeeling" tendencies, but I am always labeled an outcast.

What does all of this mean? Well, I have spent a lonely lifetime looking for female friends that I will never find. I am just incompatible with women. Their idiosyncrasies make me uncomfortable and I offend them unintentionally. I am written off as unfeeling, too compulsive and inconsistent because I let more than a few weeks laps between emails, I am not really accepted into women's bible study circles because I ask too many questions (This is true. I have been reprimanded for being the voice of dissent)...the list goes on.

What am I supposed to do? I have been in Bakersfield for nearly 3 months and I have contacted the same friends over and over and it is always up to me to call them enough for them to know that their friendship is wanted before they agree to hang out, talk all about themselves, and then never call again! I like hearing about their lives, I am just tired of making the call.

Houston we have a PROBLEM...

I chuckle to myself at that phrase which I had always thought referred to space travel. After a weekend of the sweatiest days of my life I now realize that it was probably said in referrence to the weather that in less than a minute sends tiny water molecules and sun beams to attack every dry and unfrizzed element of your body leaving a dripping, greasy, frizzy, and panting little you, and that is just the first minute :)
I applaud you Megan, Derek, James, and Kathy and I pray that my parents never move there. You see, I might say my dad is a bit of an air conditioner Nazi (said in the very best sense) and always grimmaces to switch the lever to "on" until the room is nearly 90 degrees. I'm convinced that they might melt.
The weather only contributed to a memorable and enriching weekend of "mookery," "dirtbags," afternoon margaritas, lots of yelling suceeded by lego pieces flying, and stiff blackjack, lazer tag, and bowling competitions.

I have two stories/comments to share (not favorite, just classic):
Megan, Connor, Logan and I were driving to the mall when Logan let out a long string of words that I couldn't quite understand. He repeated himself at an escalating level until Megan said, " What Logan? You see another grey Honda CRV over there?" I'm glad that she knew exactly what he said. I also like the way he plays. Any small truck, rocket, or large toy with wheels wasn't driven peacefully down the hallway or raced across the kitchen floor. Instead, he would take it with gleaming eyes and a huge red-lipped smile and ram it into the wall or piece of furniture over and over repeatedly. Cool kid.
The second incident occured while I was waiting with Connor and Logan while Megan bought her Taco Bell lunch. They were eating some chicken nuggets and french fries and Conner was just looking around, reading, talking, and repeating words. I asked Logan if he knew my name, he smiled, but Connor said, "It's Noël. I like it because it has the word 'no' in it." Great answer.

Many more things could be said if time permitted but I'm getting ready to leave Texas in a few minutes, I just thought I would be the one to update readers on the current "plan". Patrick and I will be moving in less than two months to Portland Oregon. We believe in divine inspiration and the analogy of open and closed doors. The option for attending school in Fresno was closed because we could not find jobs, a home, or muster much excitement to continue down that path. After reseraching a few more options for graduate school I found one of only three masters programs that offers a degree in book publishing at Portland State University in Oregon. The school offers both Patrick's program and the only one that I have ever found that I would deem "perfect." We found potential housing, job opportunities, and we have been nothing but excited about the opportunity to serve in that community and become Orgonians. Portland here we come, and onward with my dream to become an Acquisitions Editor.

Patrick and I are both excited and pleased with all of the excitement, adventure, trials, pain, and joy that have accompanied our first 6 months of marriage. My entire life and I'm sure a guiding hand has shaped me to be the woman that I need to be at this point in my life and I could not be more pleased with who I am. I hold onto the knowledge of The Holy, and step out in faith.
Smile today.

Obsessed with my California

I have a recent obsession that is both unexplainable and completely legitimate. I want a sweatshirt that I saw at Hollister.
I was online a few days ago trying to find some new music because Hollister always has the best music in my opinion, the most recent and the most pleasing to my ear. While listening to Parisian artist Charlotte Gainsbourg I decided to look at the clothes and because I am a sucker for soft fuzzy things I clicked on "fleece". There I first lay eyes on what would flash through my mind at least three times per day for the past two weeks:

My closet is full of sweatshirts which I wear nearly very day in the winter over thermal undershirts, long sleeved shirts, and under a huge coat and scarf. The sweatshirt does not at all fall under the "necessary and justifiable need" category, it would simply be a luxury. I closed the page and just held the image close at heart.
I don't ever like to shop and I really dislike spending money so it is just so strange to me that I can't let it go. As I have thought about it more I realize that the sweatshirt is so much more to me than a piece of clothing, it embodies a piece of my heart.
I am a California girl. I love my dry warm summers, the happy rain drops that trickle down the windshield on occasion, a beach day with surfing and a campfire with praise songs, mountain camping and huge red woods, Yosemity's Bridalveil Falls, and the casual beach fashion. I love the sunshine and my state. Never before have I felt the pride surge in me regarding my home. I was surrounded with expats during my time in China and it opened my eyes to national pride with some heated and lighthearted debates regarding government, geography, and quirks. I married a Texan. This I realized brings up the California/Texas comparrisson a bit more than I am comfortable with and for the first time I want to stand up and say that I love being from California; I love who I am because of it, the speed of traffic that exceeds a mere 65 on the freeway at night, crazy surfing dudes with long blonde hair and one too many knocks to the head with a surf board, palm trees, the Governator, and the Central Valley with fresh fruit and vegetables from the backyard whenever I feel like it.
One sweatshirt says all of that (and besides, it's soft). I can't wait to someday soon wear my heart on the outside for everyone to see.
I love my California and I will love this sweatshirt that I can hopefully get some day soon.

Mmmm...I just had a steak dinner with salad, fresh bread and gourmet Mac-n-cheese, which personally I feel put the macaroni in the "macaroni and cheese"; this can certainly not be shortened to mere "Mac-n-cheese". It made me remember the special things about my second family: how to eat and grill a good steak, the meaning of Texas hospitality, and the joy that children, smiling, and good conversation bring :)
I think my favorite part of the evening was spending time with Matt and Cindi. They are two of my favorite people, in fact when trying to put into words how special they are to me I couldn't and that just means it was a great night.
I wanted to re-cap the past weeks in pictures since I haven't posted lately, so beginning where I left off...

My birthday dinner at Red Robin was with Patrick, Paul, and my Dad. My mom had class, Juliet is in DC and Michael was working. We had yummy food, a free ice cream Sundae, and water with lemon. Some say a 21st birthday should be a bit more eventful but I went to bed at 9:00 without any birthday cake or opening my presents and a smile on my face, it was absolutely perfect.



The following day my mom took me to LA to go shopping and to see the play Wicked.




Because we were out so late on Wednesday I waited until Thursday to have champagne and open my birthday presents.










The following week was a lot of waiting, waiting and interviews. Serious, serious, serious, so we decided to have a little dress up fun.











I have been struggling with an issue of purpose, wanting my life to matter and to contribute something to others. I have not received any "words of wisdom" but I cling to what I know is true and the simple inexplicable qualities of my God.
I praise Him for joy, sunsets, and the vast unknown.

July 17

It's my birthday.
I have a job interview today to be a 7th grade language arts teacher.
That would be nice, a job and a birthday all in one day. Maybe it isn't so nice because it means 180 days next year with a classroom of 7th graders. Actually, that would be pretty fun.

Pictures to come...

The "game" of Life

I was disappointed today when my game of "Life" was over so quickly. Within two turns I was a college graduate and a travel agent making $40,000 and my brother was a typical athlete making $100,000 each payday. About 4 turns into the game our backseats were filled with little pink and blue children (Patrick had twins), we paid for vacation, house morgages, education, doctors visits and even insurance. About 10 minutes later I was retired and I hadn't made any decisions or strategized, life just swept me up and I found myself retired. I think there is that potential as we grow up.
For the first time I'm making decisions that amount to more than which part time job I would prefer for my spending money, or which college would best fulfill my educational and social interests. I've kind of felt beat up by life in the past few weeks with the necessity of making decisions about a job, home, car, location, budget, loans, and trying to maintain health and sanity while easing back into this culture.
While I was sulking at the kitchen table yesterday behind an icy glass of lemonade and a fresh cookie I realized that I will walk a line from now on, a fine line. Patrick and I discussed that we are instructed to live a life of sacrifice that hurts and is still joy filled. To do that we must listen to a prompting that may require that we sacrifice everything but together and individually we must still make decisions and commit to a direction that we feel would honor God. I wondered...will I end up on the space that says "switch career and salary card" when I am making $100,000 and receive one that is only $20,000? Will I land on the "baby boy!" space followed by a "pay $$$ for a doctor's visit" "$$$ for college" "$$$ for vacation" and end up living a life that was predicted and lost in the years but remembered only through major life points?
Wow. I feel so drained and incredibly physically, mentally, and emotionally lifeless. I just have to document this for future reference: sickness, transition, and the 20's are grueling. It's the moments that keep you going, the next minute that the pain running through your body subsides, the song that makes you want to dance around, God's whispered presence, the comment from a friend that makes you burst out laughing, and the spontaneous lingering kiss that seals value to your life. I'm ready for this life...whatever it becomes and what I decide to make it based on God's direction.

Pictures

If you would like to see pictures of life in California after the craziness of China please click this link.

I hope I'll make time to write something tomorrow.

...after two days of family, too many chocolate cupcakes, grandma's bed with homemade quilts, hand-picked fruit with fresh waffles for breakfast, and reminiscent photographs its' quiet, 11:21pm, and finally cool from the 113 degree summer day.
I had a lot of fun this fourth of July and I didn't even watch or see one firework go off. The entire first month that I was in China in honor of the Chinese New Year I could hear and see them 24 hours a day…firecrackers, whistling ear piercers, and the giant "illegal" fireworks that shoot up and blast into sparkles of color hundreds of feet in the air. This year as the little kids danced around Phantom's greatest: "THE BIG ONE," I yawned and asked Patrick and Paul if they were ready for a relaxing evening in Grandpa's easy chair watching an old movie.
I think my conclusion from the festivity is plain and simple: It's good to be home to red, white, and blue, California's central valley (heat and fruit crops), family, and most especially...these times are best shared with the person you love most in the whole world :)
I received the first hamburger off of the grill straight from Patrick's hands because he made it just for me, he said he watched me smile and play Colors in the pool with my 10 year old cousin and her friends-and he told me I have a beautiful smile, playing cards I sat close and got to kiss his cheek when he lightheartedly teased Paul for making the "boys" lose, and last night before falling asleep I was able to peer from my usual spot on Nonie's twin bed to watch Patrick fall asleep and give him a little smile.
I learned one more thing, perhaps the most important of all from this weekend and to explain it most clearly I must provide some background:
I've always scoffed at moments like this. Reading them in my favorite Christian fiction novels would ruin the story and listening to them made me hate marriage and love relationships. What are "these" moments? They are characterized by reflection and have to do with appreciating someone after the fact. I would read of the male or female lead serving the other with love and a kind heart (the hamburger), bringing them joy (Patrick’s smile or a complement), delighting in them or just being a peaceful presence (having him be there as a best friend and a companion) and the receiver would be oblivious. The receiver would be overly emotional or needy, too self-centered to pay any attention, or just busy with life and while the objective reader or listener is painfully aware of how special and amazing the lover is, it takes the receiver a few more chapters, or hours, or days until they are over themselves and able to reflect and recognize all of the love that had been bestowed on them. I hate these moments because it is so sad to me that the wonderful lover is ignored, not understood, or loved back.
I was an ambitious little reader, youth, and newlywed to think that I would not have these moments. I wanted to be constantly in love, aware of Patrick, the special person that he is, and I wanted him to know how I felt all of the time instead of through special moments of reflection and the times when it is convenient for me to love him back. (You have to believe that intentions like that alert pride as if they were highlighted). I decided to achieve the one thing that I had never heard and to be the best lover that I could by giving Patrick a constant assurance of my love. I did not need moments, but every minute to assure him of my love.
(sheepish grin)
I found out today that my Patrick is a bit of a romantic and that the moments are special to him, that they do matter. My love for him is not just assumed and understood, he needs me to remind him that I think he is so handsome and adorable with his baseball cap and dimples, he's smarter than I'll ever be and that makes me melt, he's charming, witty, and such a lover of God and me that I sometimes wonder how I got so lucky and I just praise God.
I learned how my husband needs to be shown, told, and affirmed of my feelings for him and those are the special moments that make every difference to his heart.

The birds woke me up yesterday...an event that I had been longing for during the past four months. It is my summer routine to wake with their song in my head, make a savory iced espresso and sit on the wicker porch furniture reading, praying, and delighting in the new day. What sounds like a flowery and only too good to be true ritual is in fact the way I have spent my summer every year since I began high school. I love my summer mornings complete with home grown fruit and a swim all before 8:30.
Yesterday when the birds woke me I staggered from beneath my covers and sat on the floor trying to coax my confused body awake...but the only thing it envisioned was flopping right back down on all of my pillows and fluff for another several hours of rest because inside I felt like it was about 2am. I think I did go back to sleep because 4 hours later I woke up in bed.
Jet Lag is very frustrating. I like to control my body as much as I can by feeding it proper nutrients, exercising, taking medication sparingly, and not intaking substances that would inhibit me from controlling my mind or body. This usually means that I fight sickness and tiredness to the point that I collapse or just cry (Writing that makes me feel ashamedly like a 3 year old, whoops! ). If I try to go to bed early I just lay tossing and turning because my mind refuses to sleep; I get really distracted when sickness places a damper on my activity, so by the time that I can no longer ignore it I have developed a serious infection. I think for these reasons the transition back to the United States and my home has been a several-day process... I freak out because my body is freaking out and then I'm just useless until time has created a stasis between my stubborn resistance to ease and rest, and my body just shutting down on me. When am I going to learn that the birds will still be singing to wake me up in a few more days...after I've allowed myself to rest.
I would like to introduce the one "concrete" thing that I have done besides sleep since being home (to answer Juliet's question). I have been reading an excellent book that I purchased on clearance at Barnes and Nobel on Friday called The First Five Pages. It is a book written by an acquisitions editor about the mistakes made by prospective writers that result in their manuscripts being placed in the reject pile. The topics extend from the type and presentation of the paper to the overuse of adjectives and repetition of common cliches. Reading these tips has confirmed that I paid for a proper English education in which I learned all of these rules and more so that my paper would not be placed in the professor's reject pile also known as the "F" grade.
Beyond common format and grammatical errors I learned about confidence and the inspired gift of writing. Many people can come up with a plot and still others can write a perfectly articulated manuscript, but there is a combination of passionate fluency to using words and images with proper grammar to make prose that is gifted. Anyway, it's a great tool for anyone interested in working as an editor or becoming a published writer.
To touch again on a different subject it is interesting how quickly adventure fades. Perhaps it is my response to recent comments but I catch myself questioning my "complascent existence" currently under my parent's roof in my old twin bed, sleeping away the day, and unemployed. Ah, I am prey to the many stimuli that propell us forward day to day making adventure and out of the ordinary thrill and challenges a marker for success. Chill pill. Where can I get one?

My Paparazzi

My time in China has been accompanied by the acronym OIC (only in China). It usually comes when I see 6 in. lime green high heels with knee-high nylons, a man standing on two wooden ladders taped together to fix a traffic light, or while walking down the street and seeing little children attach themselves to people’s legs as they pass until they agree to buy a flower. Yesterday was all new, new experiences, new laughter, just new!
We (the foreign teachers) had gone for dinner at Jiang Han Lue, a common shopping street with people, lights, food, and arcades. It has a tendency to make those who are not used to China a bit dizzy and confused. The people, loud music, employees clapping vigorously to attract customers, the men coming up to ask if you want “shoes, shoes, watch” follow you until you’re out of sight, glow in the dark toys, smells, old women collecting trash, taxis, busses…it is sensory overload to the max. As we were walking yesterday we noticed a group of professional photographers flocked around a storefront taking pictures of obviously made-up models. This could mean one of two things. Either it was a real live photo shoot or it was a moneymaking scheme, (dress people up, take model-esque pictures, and earn money). Craig and Marianne always scheming to get in the limelight jumped in the storefront as the models stood up and the photographers were so excited. They pushed us all in and started snapping pictures. This was awkward and just funny so I was glad when we stood to leave but…one lady grabbed my hand and forced me back down ALL BY MYSELF! They were so excited and saying “so beautiful” and all I could do was grin with a nervous unbelieving smile and look over at my friends amidst flashes of the paparazzi. You can look for me sometime soon in a Chinese advertisement. It wasn’t a moneymaking scheme.
After a great dinner of sushi and rounds of DDR at an arcade we went up an escalator and found ourselves on the women’s make-up and shoe department of a shopping mall. As it was late and there were few customers, the classical piano was loud over the sound system and what could I do but as Patrick to dace with me. Thank you, thank you. I have now done a very embarrassing and unusual thing that I would only dream of doing and never actually do. I slow danced with Patrick in a department store. OIC.

white wine mishap

I’ve been cooking a lot lately and I really enjoy it. Two of my favorite recipe sources are allrecipes.com and Williams-Sonoma. I’ve been leaning more toward the gourmet Williams-Sonoma recipes that have words such as braised, candied, risotto, and use fresh, light ingredients.
Last week I bookmarked several recipes to make and went to the store for ingredients. Several of the recipes called for white wine. While surveying the white wine 55RMB next to the white wine vinegar 10RMB, I decided they must be the same thing :) We threw away dinner that night and had street food.
Today I tried again and found to my satisfaction, a 22RMB bottle of Chinese white wine. Perfect. It went in the cart and the floor cleaner came out (I only had enough for one).
Happily I came home, unpacked my groceries, and prepared to start dinner. Quite proud that I had purchased my own bottle of wine and still being only 20 I decided to open it first because I’d always wanted to use one of those nifty looking wine bottle openers. I positioned the bottle and the opener- spiral inside of the cork. Nothing happened, but I made a giant hole. I lifted the opener and tried again in a new spot…same thing happened. Hmmm. I lifted the opener and re-adjusted the metal side wings preparing to put a lot of pressure on the opener when I turned it, maybe then it would go into the cork. I positioned it just so, placed my face directly above the cork, and with all of my might pushed the point into the cork. Immediately the pressure from within the bottle released, the cork went in the bottle and wine came up spraying all over my hair, face, and into my eyes which immediately burned…I overreact and to ensure that I wouldn’t go blind I doused my eyes with water over and over getting the sink and myself all wet.

I tried pulling the cork out with tweezers (once I tested my vision by reading things near and far with both eyes. I’m not blind.) which didn’t work. Hopefully Patrick will be home soon. I’m guessing he won’t be surprised. Our life is filled with my little mishaps.




In other news I decided that I needed a summer hair cut. Patrick was going to get his cut and I thought, why not mine? Humidity (ick) has selected my daily style- a pony tail- every day, so I decided to try the Chinese salon. I did really want to cut my hair short, but I have been continuing to observe to hair around me and I thought it might be best to wait until I get home. I didn’t want a Mohawk, a she-fro, or a shaved head, and that is their specialty. But…the adventurer in me won out and I wanted to try it. It was the best haircut that I have ever received. It may not be America perfect, which is manicured with gels and other life-giving products, but he spent 2 hours shaping and perfecting (and I have really thin hair) to create body, curl, and oomph. I love it. It’s short, spunky, textured, good curly or straight, easy to fluff-and-go, and humidity proof. I like my China hair. It was funny though because he was trying to cut and parts of my hair would dry curly or in a funky not-straight spiral and he didn’t know what to do…Chinese hair is always straight and always cooperates. They were also trying to style it like a picture of Elisha Cuthbert but they didn’t know how to get “white-girl hair” to look that way. I knew they needed a curling iron and some spray, but I just let them try to do it with a blow dryer and round brush all the while enjoying the 10s of hairdressers and customers surrounding the Wei-go-ren getting her hair cut.

Summer is beautiful, water, trees, birds, and life. Ahhh. I realize now that the beauty of summer in that context only exists in places where when the news alerts you to a day of 85 with 30% humidity, you say, “what’s that?” Wuhan summer is definitely a wet one…and the first humid environment that I have ever lived in. You step outside and sweat forms along your forehead, clothes take hours to dry on a line, the air holds thick and saturated with the 8.5 million person expenditure of pollution… but still the lazy days of summer pass and in spite of the weather something makes those few months forever memorable.
This weekend I was privileged to travel out of my province to Yichang and tour some land along the Three Gorges.



The country minority life appeared quaint, simple, and pleasant with a majestic mountain backdrop. I saw women who were past old, wrinkled, ancient, spinning yarn, cooking vegetables, and sitting in peaceful reverie on who knows what…certainly not to their youth when they were young, beautiful, fancy-free and in love, not to the child rearing days of new appliances and an improved standard of living…they had always been sitting there, playing there, thinking there. They belonged as a part of the savage isolation that was beheld in such majesty. I felt no more connection than just a shadow passing through her land.
It was strange for me, a little nature girl at heart. I love wandering almond groves in full springtime bloom, sitting amongst a forest of trees swept up in the branches and the clapping leaves. I love stars, clouds, the ocean, and awe. Nature is my communion with God, the way that His glory unfolds blatantly before my eyes. For a reason though the wild beauty that I beheld was almost empty, eerie in a lonely sense and passing with a few photos I was contented to leave it behind.
Scanning some photos today I came across this one and stopped.


It jarred me in a way that was most uncomfortable because it is a place that my heart longs to be…just in this setting…a shaded backyard, fresh lemonade, birds, green, and a house that was probably not empty. People were probably there who wanted your attention, a clock was probably on the wall inside to signal that a church youth event began in about an hour, dinner probably needed to be made, children fed, music and champagne may have been chilling for a special date night. The picture speaks of nature as a part of community rather than a sole entity. My heart longs for communion, purpose, friendship, communication, and life! Stars are best shared on the roof of a house over lattes, wind is best enjoyed from a homemade wooden swing hanging on the old oak in the 2 acre front yard, mountains are enjoyed after a race to the lookout point or over a toasted marshmallow kiss by the campfire light.
I had so many dreams, longings, desires, and qualifications for my life but maybe I just need a potted plant, my Patrick, and a best friend.

Teaching

I've never thought about what it must be like for a teacher to grade but after today I think it is horrible. I have 3 classes of 35 and they each had one paper. It took me hours to finish partially because there were so many but I have another theory...Our University professors expected no spelling, grammar, syntax, or punctuation errors. The few that were present were easily marked. A teacher could breeze through a paper, grade on ideas, creativity and insight, make a quick comment and move on. My papers are composed with sentences that even a 3rd grader could not get away with. Once I pick up the paper I have to decipher what the mess of information means and somehow grade it as if it were a newspaper article. To make all of the corrections and re-word, punctuate, and compose English from their paper takes so much time and then I have to think of their ability compared with effort and topic idea to give them a grade. Something that is not even English can get a B or a C. It's too bad, but I'm expecting a lot from them.
I had one student write "Do you know Jesus Christmas?"** Another student wrote about how making out is "good for health" and went on to explain how it helps you burn calories when it is really passionate. Another student got a book of Chinese Proverbs and just wrote one after another to form paragraphs, and my favorite was the giant F on the bottom of a student's paper that just copied and pasted a Wikipedia article after several discussions on pledgerism. (eye-ahh) sound that we make in China that reflects exasperation.

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**Selection from the article on Judaism: "Do you know Jesus Christmas? He is now believed to be a god by many people all over the world. He created Christianity. The book for this religion is called New Testament. The book for Judaism is called Old Testament. It is believed that the rout of the great religion Christianity is Judaism.
In ancient times, Jews lived in Palestine and founded the kingdom of Israel and Judah. Later, they were wiped out by Rome. Jews suffered great oppress in Egypt, and Moses led them out. Jews want to learn from Moses, he crested Christianity"-student
Apparently this student did do research and cited internet articles...so that's what my professors meant when they warned about internet article reliability.