Instant (Tickle Fight) Friends

In middle school, a friend of mine introduced me to a friend of hers one day, and I somehow ended up invited to that friend’s birthday party, which was, I believe, the upcoming weekend.

I knew very little about this girl, but I got her some kind of present and showed up to the party.

At the party, I knew few people, but really, really hit it off with the birthday girl – we created our own no-hands cake-eating contest (just the two of us, while everyone watched), and, because we were having such a good time together, turned the birthday party into a birthday slumber party, having girls call their parents (or check with them as they arrived originally to pick up their daughter) to request staying and having a change of clothes delivered.

During the slumber portion of the evening, when everyone was splayed across the TV room floor in sleeping bags and pallets, and the version of “When Harry Met Sally” that has the miniature interviews with old couples interspersed through the film (and therefore adds an extra hour or more to the run-time) was playing, the birthday girl and I were snuggled right next to one another.

I remember my hair being wet still, because we had also turned the party into a swimming party earlier on, and I had swum in borrowed clothes.

Anyway, she and I were watching the movie and chatting with one another off and on, when we came to the topic of being ticklish.

Neither one of us had much of any resistance to being tickled, but we both had the desire to be able to resist the way other people we knew could – mostly people with lots of siblings.

I had (and have) many siblings, so I felt like I was missing out on this special skill that people with siblings seem to have.

And so, by reasoning that it must be a matter of having been conditioned that allowed these people to resist, we agreed to test out our own conditioning.

Therefore, dozing off during the film, we both slowly and gently ran our fingers back and forth across one another’s feet bottoms (yes, the soles), so that we each could practice deep breathing and calming ourselves in the face of being tickled.

Fast forward to today, and I can tell you that our night of tickling practice paid off – most people have no idea that I am at all ticklish (this includes, of course, all the people who actually tickle me – I’m not just saying it because people don’t try or anything).

I can’t resist forever, but I still have a solid thirty seconds to a minute or so that I can resist quite well, even when the tickling is intense.

When the acrobats were hanging with us, we all had a tickle fight (because what’s the point of giving up tickle fights amongst friends, just because we’re adults?)… almost every attempt to send me into crying giggles failed, due to my power of resistance – vive la rรฉsistance! – but our fingers grew sore from jabbing at what felt like concrete or brick walls, because the extremely muscled abdomens of the acrobats were also extremely ticklish.

(This went in many different directions… now, back to my original concept with the instant friend in middle school.)

And so, years later, I still recall Sayrah, the girl who became my instant friend that one week in middle school, just about every time I consider and no-hands food-eating contest or event or when I consider my awesome skill at resisting being tickled.

***As a quick note, I totally can be tickled like crazy, and I willingly give in to it instantly when I’m in the mood for a good and deep laughing fit, but it’s nice to be able not to have those when I really just want to be a rock of calm. ๐Ÿ˜›

Anyway, I miss having that, instant friends… we even mentioned that tonight, missing the social aspect of school, where you get to be surrounded by people of similar age and intelligence at least five days a week, and friends kind of abound… adulting is tough in that respect…

Post-a-day 2019

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Laundry day

Okay, what is my actual deal with doing laundry?

When I lived at my mom’s last year, and had access to the high efficiency units that did wash and dry with a combined total of about an hour, it was no big deal – I did my laundry just about every time I had enough worn clothing for a single load.

I actually really enjoyed it.

Now – as well as just about every year prior to having the HE units last year – I can’t seem to get myself to do laundry until I’m actually about to run out of clothing… or, rather, have run out of something vital.

In high school, my best friend and I would have “swimsuit day” every so often, for which we would wear swimsuits underneath our school uniforms.

She participated, because she actually found her swimsuit top to be as comfortable as, if not more comfortable than, her regular bras.

I participated – and established – because I was out of clean bras and underwear, and so a swimsuit was my only option for undergarments.

Therefore, every couple weeks or so, we’d have a “swimsuit day”, which I could tell her about the night before, while I still didn’t necessarily out on a load of laundry (though I usually put on laundry the night I ended up pulling out a swimsuit for the next morning).

Fast forward to now: as it stands, this will be my third or fourth night of using a dress and t-shirt to dry myself after my nighttime shower…, because both sets of my towels have been used and placed in the dirty laundry pile/s.

I’m thinking it has to do, in part, with the fact that the HE washers are so much safer on the clothes, especially in terms of color transferring… when there’s a high risk of color bleed, there’s a low chance of my carefully organizing out everything to be wash-ready any time soon.

Also, it just takes so much longer with regular washers and dryers – close to an hour for each.

Seeing as how we live in Houston, I definitely don’t want to put on a load to wash, and then leave for more than an hour… and I am definitely not reliable to turn back up in an hour, if I’ve left home – I just get too distracted with other exciting things that are all out there, in the world, not in my house, you know?

And so, instead, I have laundry pile up and pile up… and I’ve been quite tempted (and even have done it with a suitcase from a trip recently) to pack it all up and bring it to my mom’s house – I never did that in college, so maybe now it’s time, at last. ๐Ÿ˜›

Also, one bit of defense for me: My current washer and dryer are reached only by going outside on the porch first, and so 1)I want to be safe and not go do that late at night (when I actually am at home and have time to do laundry), and 2)I didn’t have a key that could lock that door properly for the first month+ of living here, and it just seemed a terrible idea to leave the room unlocked, so I just didn’t do laundry for the first several weeks of living here.

Now, however, I have a key that works(!), so I can do laundry here.

The question is: Will I actually do it?

Post-a-day 2019

Comfort

At ease….

It’s funny to me, though totally believable, that my kakizome has already begun to do its work in my life for this year.

ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒ Anshin

It roughly translates to a combination of the following:

  • Peace of mind, freedom from care
  • Relief, be quite free from care (anxiety, fear)
  • Feel easy (about), feel at ease
  • Feel relieved, stop worrying (about something)
  • Feel reassured, be confident (of, that), be (rest) assured

And, somehow unforeseen by me, ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒanshin has found its way further and further into my daily life these past couple weeks.

I am actually excited about the near future and the present almost every day, even when I wake up in the morning (In case you don’t know, the morning thing is huge for me).

I am not fully where I want to be – not by a long shot – but I am actually moving there now, actively and effectively heading in that wonderful direction, becoming who and how I want to be every day and night (and morning) of my life.

And it feels amazing (including the muscle soreness)…

Thank you, ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒ anshin, for your existence, care, and support in my life… truly, thank you. ๐Ÿ™‚

Post-a-day 2019

Phone crush!

Are we allowed to crush on people we meet over the phone?… on a help line?…is that a thing?

Certainly not, but that’s okay – I have a mini crush anyway.

I think it was his chuckles that got me… we were talking about how somebody messed up delivering a package, and yet somehow we both ended up chuckling a lot during our 14-minute phone call… that and his real warmness every time he said my name, calling me “Miss Hannah” in an uplifting way (as opposed to the near disrespectful and demeaning version I have heard on many a helpline).

I just got off from a phone conversation with an adorable Bradley, who happens to be living in the future (by eight hours) in Cape Town, South Africa.

Sometimes, the whole outsourcing of help lines is terrible, and nothing seems to work out, due to language and culture barriers, combined with a terrible phone connection, or something else absurd.

And sometimes, it works out wonderfully – I’ve already had one of my absurd fairy-tale-like stories play out in my head, where adorable, chuckling Bradley in South Africa and I end up meeting in real life and becoming besties or something – maybe even marrying…. ‘How did you two meet?’ ‘Well, it was an outsourced help line phone call that brought us together… Hannah called, and Bradley answered… and it turned into true life, half the world apart.’

๐Ÿ˜› hashtag guffaw ๐Ÿ˜›

It is things like this that make me feel confident in my ability to produce absurd and entertaining stories that nod to Sophie Kinsella books – silly and goofy and crazy things already go down in my life, and then my mind takes them, in a mere moment, to a whole ‘nother level… truly.

What’s really fun to me about it all is the fact that I had called in to the hotline already, but the person had somehow messed up the call, or something, and had just disappeared… so Bradley was my second call in to the hotline.

Boy am I glad my call was messed up the first time. ๐Ÿ˜›

I really do love my life, and I am grateful for it, with all of my being.

๐Ÿ™‚

Post-a-day 2019

Uninvited overnight guest

Not the messages you want to be sending anyone at three in the morning:

Not great news: 80% certain that there is an animal in the attic right now. I went out front to look on the wall, and saw no creature there (just some old vines). There is a hole in the roof by the porch, though, and I can hear it going crazy right now.

It sounds like it is genuinely destroying boards inside the wall. I hear things falling down the wall.

And yet, I just sent them.

And it is terrifying me just a little bit, because this creature sounds totally capable of breaking through the walls within definitely a few hours…. so I’m nervous to go to sleep, and risk having a creature fully in the house when I awaken with a jolt at its entry.

……. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

Post-a-day 2019

Time to get up

The struggles of not being an early-morning person… Tomorrow, I don’t have to be in until around 10am…

If I go in at the regular time (i.e. leaving home right at 7am), I can accomplish a lot of my writing and photo stuff before classes.

If I go in for 10, I won’t have time to accomplish anything except teaching and tutoring and regular working stuff – I’m booked through the evening.

But I would get to sleep in…., which is awesome, especially since we’re hoping to do or first workout class tomorrow night.

…However, I might get stress-y about the potential of showing up late for some reason, if I wait for 10…

So, I’m guessing I will schedule myself for the regular wake-up and get ready times, but just take my time doing them, as I find necessary… if I show up half an hour later than usual, due to increased traffic on the roads, that’s okay – I’ll still have enough time at that point to do my personal work before I have a class.

Good plan.

Yep.

Yeah, I’m definitely planning to leave at the same time as usual. ๐Ÿ˜›

Haha… I’m quite glad I can laugh at myself with this; laughter is good medicine. ๐Ÿ™‚

Post-a-day 2019

Girl Rising

Tonight, I finally watched a film recommended to me by a couple of high school senior girls, called “Girl Rising“.

Before it even was finished, I found myself rather wanting to find a way to get myself funded to go over somewhere where teachers are needed, and to teach children (girls especially) everything I possibly can.

And I am now somewhat worried that I might actually end up doing something radical… like just that… or even finding a way to find a girls boarding school here somewhere, to bring girls who otherwise can’t afford anything, let alone education, and that will be this school I have considered and discussed so much in recent years, the one I have though about founding…

That seems even more absurd than my just going somewhere… somehow…

P.S. I recommend the film.

Post-a-day 2019