Month: February 2018

Is it heart or nonsense?

Ever feel like you’re secretly an amazing artist, and you just have to set up your life so that you start creating the art, and the world will follow suit by tossing gobs of money your way to encourage more art to be shared with the world?  I totally do.  And I felt a lot of the pull today towards doing that with my life.  It has been a spectacular end of and beginning of these two different years of my life today.  My brain is sleepy from so much back-and-forth thought patterns and emotions, but thrilled at prospects that feel ever nearer.  🙂  I have happy hopes and intentions for this year.

Post-a-day 2018

My longest year so far

Thus ends the longest year of my life.  🙂

In my twentieth year of life, right at the end of it, I spent some time living and studying in France.  My birthday came and went while living there, effectively making my twentieth year of life shorter than any previous year – think birthday to birthday – by a full seven hours.  By the end of my twenty-first year, I had already spent several months living in the USA again, thereby making my twenty-first year seven hours longer – birthday to birthday – than the average year so far in my life (and 14 hours longer than my shortest year of life, which had been the year before it).

Last year, I found myself living half of my year (birthday to birthday year) in Japan.  Therefore, when my birthday came around in 2017, I completed my shortest year of life, its being a full 15 hours shorter than the usual (and eight hours shorter than my shortest year to that point).  Therefore, as I reach my birthday at midnight tonight, living again in the USA, I will be completing the longest year of my life – birthday to birthday, of course – with a full 15 hours more than usual (and 30 hours longer than my shortest year).

Cool, huh?

 

P.S.  Yes, of course I am excluding leap days, because they ruin the fun, and they don’t even make any sense in the first place.  A year is all about the Earth’s revolution around our sun, and a leap day is just a way to make up for the fact that it takes 365.25 (I think it’s actually 365.242189 to be exact) days to go ’round our sun, not just 365.  So, I’m just counting the approximate .25 with every year, instead of adding a whole extra day every fourth year.  Even if I did include leap days, then every leap day would cause the longest year of my life to be that year (and each of those would be equal to one another).  However, the shortest years of my life (still talking birthday to birthday) would remain the same, as they did not contain leap days.  To anyone with a birthday on February 29th – I mean you no injustice or discredit.

Post-a-day 2018

When we are down

‘Why couldn’t you just let me be happy?’  I believe that is the question she asks her friend Betty, who has recently been incredibly harsh, before walking off, leaving Betty sitting speechless and alone on the steps (“Mona Lisa Smile”).  At the time, Betty was in a marriage she had just begun – with incredibly high hopes and expectations – , but that was falling to extreme pieces.  Her husband clearly did not love her, and was rather uninterested in her in general, but she didn’t know what to do.  All she could do was continue her school work, and unintentionally let out her suppressed panic in the form of nastiness toward her friends.

As I thought more and more tonight about this little scenario that is within the film “Mona Lisa Smile”, I began to relate it directly to my own life.  Betty couldn’t let her friend Connie be happy, because Betty was so miserable.  How could she help herself against being bitter and angry that Connie’s love life was blooming, when her own – one she had until very recently believed to be perfect – was falling apart?  It made perfect sense to me.  And so I wondered where I have done that in my own life (or at least wanted to do it).

Talking with a friend the other night, she was sharing how much she had loved her Japan job.  It made me want to be angry, because I was miserable in my job in Japan.  What does one have to do with the other?! I found myself asking… myself.  So what if she enjoyed her job?  That’s a wonderful thing!  And yet the desire persisted every so gently, to the point where I still have to let it go over and over again (though it is much easier than it was at first).  This is the same as Betty Warren’s problem, really.  I was unhappy, so it was almost wrong of someone else to be happy in that comparable situation.  (I’m not saying this as fact, of course, but as the feeling behind it all for myself.)

When I have been making not-very-much money in recent years, I grow annoyed at the former classmates who are buying their wonderful, large houses.  Not having a significant other (or anything similar, beyond a (married) best friend across the ocean), I sometimes feel sick when I see yet another engagement announced on Facebook by people in my age group.  And the list goes on for all sorts of things… wonderful pets, trips to beautiful or cool places, exercise…

While my initial responses were similar to pure anger and jealousy (as if their getting a house or getting married has any deprivation effects on my life), upon seeing or hearing about the various happy events in other people’s lives, they have developed to a calmed state of slight discomfort and longing instead.  (It just felt wrong to be angry at such things, so I made a genuine effort to look at what was behind it all for me, and to manage a healthy response for myself, as well as for the people who are celebrating – I don’t want to be sending them angry vibes, ya know?)  😛  But that changes nothing from the Betty Warren within me – it still takes an effort to allow others to be happy in a situation in which I am not happy.  Granted, my responses are much improved and I do not shed bitterness and nasty comments the way she did.  However, the discomfort still remains for the situations.

I don’t know what I wanted to say about this all – I think I just wanted to say that.  That I can relate very easily to poor Betty Warren and her inability to let her friend be happy  in an area of life where she, herself, was so unhappy (despite what likely was a genuine love for her friend and desire for her friend to be happy in life).  We do that in our own lives quite often, it feels.  From the greatest to the smallest of things, when we are unhappy with a specific aspect of our own lives, we struggle to see others be happy in that same aspect of their lives.  I don’t want to give out a solution to this behavior – I just want us to notice that we have it, really.  Simply noticing it, bringing awareness to it, makes more of a difference than we could imagine, anyway.  Betty seemed utterly shocked when Connie accused her with the question.  To that point, even if she had realized what she was doing, it is likely that she was unable to admit it to herself…

Yeah… I want to look even more into the smallest nooks and crannies of my life to see where else I have been in this rut-based hatred/anger in the past.  I want to let all of that go.  And I want to be free of it all for the future, and to be able to wish others well with ease, no matter my own current situation.

Post-a-day 2018

Art Alive

After brunch today, we went to the Cherryhurst House in Houston for its current in-house exhibit by Dan Havel and Dean Ruck.  It is called “Ripple”, and it is wonderful.  I spoke with Dean Ruck while inside the exhibit/house (you’ll see what I mean in a minute), and learned a bit about how his day job provides him ample knowledge on how to take on such a task safely and successfully.  When I first entered the house, I felt instantly that it was just like the vortex-y black-hole-sucking-itself-inward house I had seen years and years ago on Montrose Boulevard in Houston, though also totally different.  (Obviously, that was my own description of it.  The project was apparently called “Inversion”.  Very appropriately named, of course.)  I found out that, of course, the same artists had done that project as well as this one.

Anyway, the one today, Ripple, was great.  Go.  See.  It.  !!!!

And there was even real quiche to enjoy as part of the opening celebration of the exhibit, which, alongside the perfect-volumed music and delicious beverages, made really quite stupendous slightly rainy afternoon.

How’d you like to walk in to this through the front door of a house?
(Well, you can right now!  Go check it out with an easy reservation at Cherryhurst House.  Seriously.  It’s well worth the visit.)

IMG_3694

A few views within the house, though the bottom left is a photo I took through a hole in the wall, while standing outside the house.

 

P.S. I guess it was all the woodwork we had seen, but my mom and I called up my cousin (as she followed us in her own car) on the way home from the exhibit, so she could participate on speaker phone with our sing-a-long to “Heaven on Their Minds” from Jesus Christ Superstar.  He specifically references Jesus’s possible future of being a carpenter, the point at saying which is one of the best parts of the song musically.

Post-a-day 2018

I am from…

Recently, in my cleaning out, I’ve come across loads of papers and files and folders and binders from almost all of my years of schooling.  While, I’ve found things from that same school year (lots of them today, actually), I have yet to find the original I am from poem that I wrote about myself in seventh grade.  When I find it, I will share it, followed by the one I wrote about myself during college, as well as the two(three?) that my friends wrote about me from their own perspectives during, I believe, high school together.

For now, though, I share the one I wrote during college about myself.  If you do not know, an I am from poem is essentially a work where one inputs pieces of information related to certain topics.  For example, the format could be as follows:

[First Name]
I am from [three traits you like about yourself]
[three traits you want to improve about yourself]
lover of [two things you love]
believer in [two things in which you believe]
who fears [two things you fear]
who hopes for [two things for which you hope]
brother/sister to [list your siblings]
daughter/son to [list your parents’ names]
resident of [the street where you grew up living]
[your city and state]
[your country]
[Last Name]

The original one I did was longer than that, but the point was just to explain the general format, so I’ll leave it at that.  The following, as mentioned already, is the version I wrote in college, which was following a rather free format that did not have distinct criteria other than being about ourselves (so far as I currently remember, anyway).

……………………………

4 Sept 2011 ED351

Hannah
I am from gentle, caring, lovable, wonderful
I am from sisterhood and subtle observations
from Music and Dance and Poetry
I am from contentedness with what one is given, blissfulness when around music, and the desire to do good
I am from hugs, laughs, and love, and recycling it all back
I am from giving harmony to life, consideration to call, and cheerfulness to one’s surroundings
I am from confidence: one so strong I fear only a loss of things or people whom I love and with whom I share my life
I am from Grace, in name and in action
I am from “How do you say ‘How do you say?'” in as many languages as possible
I am from connectedness and communication: be honest, be clear, be concise, lift up others with what you say, and mean it every time
I am from clarity: now inhale deeply and be with what is and what isn’t – identify the story and render it powerless in what happened
I am from when you’re on it, get off it; when you’re incomplete, get complete with yourself and with all those involved; and when you’re being inauthentic, be authentic about your being inauthentic
I am from live in the moment and remember what’s possible
AND
I am from the long time sun, may it always shine upon you
I am from love, may it always surround you
I am from Woman, the greatest power, and from the one pure light within us
I am from a world to be treated with care
I am from mother: Earth and the human
I am from understanding, consciousness, choices, and freedom of self-expression
I am from mother, all-encompassing, all-loving, and ever-present
I am from God, the World, and the stars
I am from Mother

…………………………..

Post-a-day 2018

Floor Hockey Rockstars

I had forgotten until recently that I used to play street hockey with one of my brothers.  We just would rollerblade together and pass the ball or puck to each other, or practice rollerblading with the sticks as fast as we could and then with the sticks and ball/puck.  It was fun.  And, you see, I remembered this, because I was trying to figure out how I had been so good at floor hockey in gym class in ninth grade, even though I had never done it in school before then.  And I thought of that memory, because I saw at the YMCA the other girl in that freshman gym/health class who was really good at floor hockey (and definitely more intense about it than anyone else), which had been our first sport of the school year.  Her name is Kristina.  It was really good having someone else in that class who enjoyed sports for the sport of them, and who was naturally good at most sports, and who didn’t get an attitude about any of it.  We didn’t really become friends outside of that class, but she’s always held a little sweet space in my heart and memory because of our initial floor hockey awesomeness bond.  😛

Post-a-day 2018

Must…drink…water

My head aches and aches and aches.  All I did was have a wonderful day and drink less than three liters of water.  How is it normal for someone to have such a result?  I guess my body in just in synch with the weirdness of my mind and personality.  Gotta be crazy all over, not just in one area of life.  Oh, no.  😛

Though, oddly enough, I drank very little water today, even though I was surrounded by it with all the rain we’ve had today and tonight.  I was even out in it for a while earlier today.  Crazy.

How much water do You drink on average in a day?  I average a minimum of three liters, and have done up to five on desperate days back in Japan.

Post-a-day 2018

Another letter from Japan

Another letter I found regarding my early time in Japan.  I’m not so sure that I ever sent this one either.  I think they both were intended as drafts, but time kept passing and more kept happening, making me want to add even more… and so I never sent anything. 😛

………………………………

The short version (A Recount in Which I Cut Out the Complaints)
 
I live in Toride, Japan, a suburb of Tokyo, and have an apartment, with about 2/3 of what I need in it (a significant improvement from a couple days ago).
Figuring out how to sort trash took a week, but I mostly figured it out with the help of a Japanese friend I made.
I have a new phone and new bicycle (new to me, at least).  Both were killer expensive.  It’s a 45-minute ride to my main school, 10 to my secondary school.
We aren’t paid until the 21st each month, so I had to bring a boatload of cash for my apartment and initial expenses (apparently credit cards are only used in half the locations the US and Europe use them.  Also, bank cards have single-transaction price limits, so everyone always asks if I want to split my transaction when I use my card. (Not that I understand it, but someone translated it once, and I recognize the phrasing + body language now.)
I have a futon, which is a lame version of a mattress, but practical for the lifestyle here (supposed to hang it in the sun every week to kill germs on it, which is usually needed, because it’s hella-hot, and most people don’t really use A/C, even if they have it), and mine seems to be okay-ish for being able to sleep.
A new friend, Sammi, and I talk every evening/afternoon/night just to check in on one another, and to help each other out with whatever questions we’ve each developed about how to function living here (she lives on a little island and is the token white girl foreigner).  And also just to chat about whatever.  Calls are always free to receive, but dialing out costs after 5 minutes, so we go back and forth setting a timer, and hanging up and redialing every 4 minutes 45 seconds.
I have almost nothing to do at school, but my school requires me to be here.  My whole curriculum is written up for the year, and I am only an assistant in class… so my job is essentially to be present in class, and help in class.  Not spend August preparing for classes.  A drastic difference from what I used to do as a teacher!  So I spend my day working on Japanese, and finding ways not to fall asleep at my desk.  I’m not always successful.
The sun comes up around 5am.  I wake up with it, despite the curtains and my eye covering.
I’ve made four good friends who are part of my program, and one Japanese friend, who is a friend of a coworker of one of those four US friends.  The — (my program) people are Jon(athan), Katarina, Sam(uel), and Sammi.  Japanese friend is Rie (ree from reed + saying the letter “a”). Distances from me: Jon/Rie 25 minutes, Katarina 40 minutes (Tokyo), Sam 2 hours (on the beach), Sammi no clue (she’s on a far-away island).
I’m kind of sick of sushi, but that’s probably just because it’s all I had from 7/11 for several days while I had to wait for my predecessor to give me things she had for me for my apartment (fridge, dishes, etc.)
Sammi is my shopping buddy – we talk on the phone, and she helps send me pictures of things she was given, so that I can find them in the incomprehensible store (e.g. this is a photo of my dish soap, I think… look for the words…).  We both enjoy the adventure of it.
Speaking of the store, the bicycle parking area looks loads like a car parking lot.  And it’s used, too.
I experience my first earthquake last night.  It was a 4.6, and I was scared out of my whits.  I was on the phone with Sam when it happened.  I said, “Is that… I think that’s an earthquake,” and then couldn’t even talk, as I lost the ability somehow.  I was quite shocked at how I responded – I knew logically that it was a tiny earthquake, nothing to cause concern.  Yet my body and emotions went psycho-freakout on me, and I even cried when it ended 30 seconds later. Sam asked if I was okay when it stopped, and all I could say was just, “Give me a minute,” and then could finally function again after I cried.  Totally weird, but I’m glad I had that emotional support for my first one.*
*There actually was one last Wednesday night – a 5.4, I think – , but I was dead asleep in my hotel room, so didn’t notice it.  So this was my second earthquake, but the first one of which I was aware as it happened.
Okay, I think that encompasses plenty, though definitely not the whole.  Send inquiries my way.  ;P  Love you all!!
Peace
Hannah
……………………………………………
Post-a-day 2018

Stepping up

Dear ——, is this still your number?  Hannah ——- here.  I wanted you to know that I am very interested in renting out your apartment.  However, I have three concerns.  1) I’d like to see it to be certain.  2) I would prefer to move in in June instead of May.  Would that be possible?  3) If something were to come up where I receive a job offer abroad, would it work for me to move out sooner than anticipated (even if that means I find a sub-letter, etc.)?

……………………………………………..

A series of text messages I am considering sending tomorrow (as the person prefers messages to calls, and it is too late to do it tonight).

Post-a-day 2018