hannah ananas

I miss my cat so much, it actually makes me start to feel sick when I think about it… so I mostly just don’t think about it.  It’s as though I glance at the idea, the thought, of our being apart for at least another nine or ten months, notice that the experience will not be good to accept the thought, and so keep on walking past.

Day 11 of 40

For some reason, I’m quite good at estimating time.  Every time I wake up nowadays, I find myself automatically attempting to figure out the time.  Not because I necessarily care about what time it is – I would just look directly at a clock or my phone in that case -, but because some sort of inner scientist and physicist wants to see if I can come up with an appropriate calculation for the current time.  AKA something inside me attempts to use the amount of light in the room, as well as the sounds outside and my sense of tiredness, to determine the current time.

Surprisingly enough, I’m actually quite good at it.  Every so often I’m off by a lot, but I typically estimate things to within the half hour.  And, as I check the clock and discover my accuracy, I feel a small sense of dreary (because it’s usually still the middle of the night, and I just had to use the bathroom) delight and inner warmth – I figured out something I wanted to solve, and all on my own.  🙂  And it was something science, too, which makes it even better.

How on Earth do I do that, I wonder…

Day 10 of 40

William Forrester, a character played by Sean Connery in the film “Finding Forrester“, puts an aspiring writer, Jamal, in front of a typewriter, and tells him to write.  Jamal asks, ‘Write about what?’  To which William, as he is typing speedily away at his own typewriter, replies that the topic is unimportant, and thinking doesn’t matter – the key is just to write.  Moments later, William produces his own finished product, to the amazement of young Jamal.

As I declared recently that I wanted to write as a way of monetary survival, I began this weblog.  I wanted to be able to write so easily and all the time – but I wanted it always to be perfect, to be something worth reading, and so often ended up writing nothing… Now that I think about it, that sounds ridiculous.  Not because I want people to enjoy reading what I make available to them, but because considering my writing to be not worth reading would be discounting what I have to say.  It would be saying to myself that my words aren’t worth existing – and yet there is plenty I would love to share with the people in my life whenever we speak, that I somehow constantly find to be unworthy of being written here… what ridiculous thinking we sometimes have as humans.  Mine ceases to amazing me.  😀  In a good way, of course… eventually, anyway.

So, I dare say, my words are worth hearing.  I would tell them to my friend when we speak to one another, thus making them also worth reading.  Now, this in no way means that I do not want to have my written words reach a great audience in order to make a powerful, positive, and profound impact in the world.  I do want my writing to do that; in which case I find it important to better my writing constantly and consistently (coincidentally thereby bettering myself, I imagine).  However, I now no longer have the excuse 1) to degrade what I have to share, whatever it may be, or 2) not to write.  And I’m okay with that.  😀

Peace to the World, y’all  ;D

Day 9 of 40

Playing with words,
it’s the name of the game.

If you stutter or copy,
you’ll lose or be lame.

Be funny or witty,
and you shall have fame.

Essentially, Bananagrams
and life are the same.

Because isn’t life all about playing with your words and your ideas, and presenting them in a specifically timed manner and place, so as to be loved (what we synonymize with fame)?

Bananagrams, the game

Day 8 of 40

A traditionally evasive species, dreams tend to leave one always questioning, always wondering – what actually happened last night?  Who was in my dreams?

However, every so often, and maybe only once a year or two, dreams stand clearly and positively in one’s memory.  The next morning no longer feels like waking up from a dream, but simply as though transitioning from one activity to the next.  No matter what today holds, I am unbelievably content, because my dreams were beautifully and perfectly satisfying.  And, even though I know that none of it actually happened, it doesn’t matter – for those dreamy hours, it really was real for me and my brain and all of its chemicals… and that’s somehow enough for the happy balance to remain into the day.

Yeah, last night was not only an amazing and clear dream, but it lasted the entire night, even though I had to get up several times to use the bathroom (because I was dehydrated and kept gulping after water all night).  It was as though what I wished would happen, happened in a dream.  And I think that is because my brain knows that it won’t actually happen, and so it gave me the satisfaction of experiencing it, so that I could enjoy it and go ahead and move past it.  Whatever the case, I am grateful for that beautiful night of dreaming.  🙂

Day 7 of 40

some days, no matter how much good happens to make the day great, you just end up sick

🙂

Day 6 of 40

Within five minutes of my bags being down in my room, my five-year-old host sister was comfortably planted in front of them, rummaging. No, she wasn’t even trying to be sneaky about it – it was as though she simply had no concept of the ‘don’t go through other people’s stuff without permission’ societal rule of conduct. And it somehow had me be completely okay with her doing it. (Maybe I enjoyed her sense of freedom to be herself – in this case curious – and to do as she wished.)

I sat down next to her and the bags, and helped her rifle through… I demonstrated how certain things worked and what others were (she didn’t really like my strong oil blend, but she loved my sunglasses). I helped her count as she went through my money (turns out I had nine bills in my wallet, and 12 cards/other papers).

By the end of our time passing back and forth the contents of my coinpurse (We really ought to match up all foreign language learners with little kids- it is ridiculously helpful. I helped her identify the amounts on the coins, and she told me how to say the counters in Japanese counting.), we had thoroughly connected with one another. There was a real sense of trust and comfort that hadn’t been there before the joint perusal of my backpack and purse.

It had me wonder: What if we did this on a normal basis? What if we went through our bags with our friends and family? How much closer to and authentically loving of one another could we be if we had to share the contents of our purses and backpacks and wallets with one another?

I don’t have an answer, but I’d like to try it out, because that was just wonderful today. And we had an amazing day together afterward (I literally carried her around almost half the day, she wouldn’t let me go.).

Also, side fact: I love that the world handed me a sort of hugs galore this weekend. I have missed love and hugs, and I was given a weekend with three little kids, one of whom sometimes just clings to me like a baby monkey. The happy neuropeptides in me are reaching their formerly standard level this weekend. 🙂

Day 5 of 40

George R. R. Martin really does make me smile, and on a regular basis.

Listening to the audiobook of A Feast of Crows just now, as I rode my bike home, I stood up and bounced with joy after I heard the following bit:

“She still grieves for her father.”

“Outlaws killed him,” sobbed Lady Amorae. [sp?]  “Father had only gone out to
ransom Peter Pimple.  He brought them the gold they asked for.  But they hung
him anyway.”

“Hanged, Amy!  Your father was not a tapestry.”

Grammar and diction – oh, how I do delight in them.  Thank you, George R.R. Martin, for allowing me to find these little joys all throughout your books.  I am daily grateful for them.  😀

Day 21 of 40

Oh, how I ❤ Quinoa

I thought about writing a limerick
To show just how much that I love it.
But finding a rhyme
for quinoa took time,
and so that game ended real quick.

…ly

Can you tell that I was inspired by my lunch? 😛

Day 3 of 40