Tag: friends

Satisfaction… at last

Tonight, going to bed, I feel fulfilled.  Typically, I have this feeling of needing to go do something before I can end my day.  I am angsty and somewhat agitated by the late afternoon, and I feel this pull from somewhere inside of me, but I can’t ever quite figure out how to follow it, how to satisfy the desire within.  I notice right now that I almost didn’t even feel a pull to write anything tonight – that’s how satisfied I am with my day.  It was fabulous, and so I can sleep easily, without anything else happening first.  And I love writing, so that’s saying something.

Kids were unintentional rude in classes today, ignoring my pleas for quite voices, so that I could be heard with my pained, achy throat barely able to choke out words.  I let them spend the time with an activity for their own benefit, and most of them ignored it or didn’t care enough about their own education to attempt the activity, which was disappointing.  A few really took it on, and some decided it was time to talk with me about anything and everything in my life, while I showed them how to do some of the work.  It was an odd balance of awesome and disappointing, combined with my throat being slightly consumed by a low-grade fire.

After school, I chatted with a few teachers from my own high school, plus a friend who now teaches there.  That was amazing in and of itself.  Add to it that I met up with a friend for tapioca tea afterward, and my day continues to improve.  We ended up having dinner with the teas, and then she invited me to join a hip-hop class with her.  Neither of us has ever been very good or experienced with hip-hop, but we love dancing, and we both have strong partner dance backgrounds.  I have wanted to do hip-hop classes ever since my best friend and her husband started doing some over in England a few years back, because she is just plain awesome, and it is always a good idea to strive for her level of awesome.  So I got to be cool like my bestie tonight, and turned out to be actually kind of good at the routine, too.  The teacher even came specifically to my friend (not my best friend, but the friend with whom I had gone to the class) and me, and told us that she wanted us to join her team.  (Note: Seeing as we were just discussing before the class how we hadn’t been involved in anything dance since moving back to the US (we both just returned from living in Asia), we are genuinely considering this hip-hop team idea.)

Now, I am home.  I snacked on some leftovers from dinner, chatted briefly with my mom, and have just showered.  I am tired, but in a really good way right now – I am satisfied.  I don’t know how else to word it.  I am just satisfied, which is something, I now see, that I usually am not at the end of the day.  As I said to my teacher friend earlier this afternoon, I need interaction with non-teenagers.  I get so much teenager interaction, and very little of anything else… and I need more than just interaction with teenagers, no matter how wonderful they are or how much we may love one another.  And, tonight, I got that other interaction, plus involvement in something (the hip-hop class) and exercise.  That is a really, really good combination.  Now to see how to keep this up, happening much more often than once every three months.

Post-a-day 2017

Hers, mine, & ours

I have been teaching during someone’s maternity leave recently, and I discovered something today – when the teacher returns, I will have been with the students more than she has.  Just now, I checked the calendar, and it seems that I have already been with them for longer than she was, due to Hurricane Harvey.  It is odd to me to consider that these kids would be more my students than her students.  It is her class, and I have always seen it that way.  So have the kids.  And so we likely will continue to live in this odd little my world within her world setup, where the kids are, indeed, mine, but we are all hers.  Something like that, anyway.

I will miss these kids.  If I really think about it, …well, no I don’t do that.  Whenever I begin actually to consider it, my eyes grow hot and threaten an outpouring of tears.  I suppose I really do love the kids so much, even though they drive me frustrated so often as they do.  They know I love them, and so do I.  And it is difficult to consider that I no longer will see these people who have been part of my daily life for so long, and as we all have worked through so much together.

A teacher friend of mine sent me a message tonight, saying how we needed to do something, because she missed me.  It turns out that neither one of us has done much other than school lately.  This time in particular, even more so than other times I have taught, the students are my social interactions in life.  I call my mom in the evenings, because I am craving adult interaction.  I don’t have interaction with friends.  I just have these kids.  In a sense, they are my friends, and I have no others (whom I see, anyway).  And so I will miss them all greatly, and even some of the stupid stresses they force upon me, like throwing ice at one another in class or unknowingly rejecting a beautiful opportunity to learn and to help themselves become beautiful successes in life.  Yes, I will miss these kids who are not mine, but mine.  I love them dearly.

Post-a-day 2017

It really is all relative

Tonight, I was reminded of a girl I met, while I was living in Toulouse, France.  She was in school (high school, I believe), and doing a temporary internship at the place where I was doing my volunteering.  She was from a small country that was at war (and it might still be, but I haven’t kept up with the news).  She had a boyfriend and a baby of her own, in addition to a younger sister, I believe.  She taught me much.

What I was discussing with my mom tonight is how relative things are in life.  Just as in Aesop’s last fable today, with the bunny rabbits about to drown themselves in their exhaustion of living in fear, and suddenly discovering the frogs at the pond afraid of them, causing them to realize that someone had it worse off than they did, so is life.  No matter what one’s struggles and turmoils, there’s always someone worse off.  And I feel like our turmoils and struggles are saddening next to the real turmoils and struggles of other parts of the world.  This girl spoke to me about her country of origin, and how they moved to France.  And, when she spoke about it all, it were as though she were telling me about a class project, or how she went grocery shopping yesterday.  Those, however, were not the subject matter.  What I remember most of her story, is how people broke into her house one day/night, beat up her parents (and possibly her, too), and then took her father.  Her family tried offering money as a ransom for her father’s return, but no information was even received regarding her father – they never found out if he even was alive or dead, or who had taken him.  Just some men, she’d said.

I mean it that it were as though she were telling me about what she did yesterday after work/school.  She was not sad in her words, nor was she hauntingly depressed in her eyes or spirit.  She was living life as I was, and merely sharing about something.  ‘Yeah, I don’t know where Josh went after dinner, but he left.  We called him, but never got a response.  Maybe he went home, instead of coming for coffees with us.’  That’s was the easiness with which she spoke – no premeditation or practice.  It was just what’s so, and so that was how she told it.

I say a prayer for the world tonight.

Post-a-day 2017

Japanese Animal Crackers

Because this small interaction with some of my Japan people was awesome, I thought I’d share it.

……………………………………….

Person 1:

Person 2: Cuuute. Where’s that from? 

Person 3: Kawaii

Person 1:


Person 1: Animal crackers!

Person 4: M. Duck. We’re one step closer to learning the duck’s first name.

Person 4: Any bets on what it is?

Person 1: Haha, I thought the same thing

Hannah: Mallard duck

Person 4, simultaneously: Common sense says something nature-themed like Marigold, but I’m voting Marzipan

Person 4: Shh, no one asked for rationality.

Hannah: Okay, then. Obviously, it’s Msteven Duck

Hannah: The M is silent

Person 4: That’s the spirit

Hannah: Don’t you mean “mspirit”?

Hannah: :P.

Person 4: Hahah

Person 4: Touché

Sticker from Person 1: Punked?!

Later, from Person 1, again: Some of these are oddly specific, while some are not


……………….

I really do love Japan’s odd relationship with English.

Post-a-day 2017

‘One Spanish-speaking Boyfriend, please’

I said to myself yesterday that I needed a native-Spanish-speaking boyfriend, or else a native-Spanish-speaking friend, because I need Spanish in my life, and I need to use the language more than I currently do (hardly at all).

Tonight, at dinner, the waiter, who might also be the manager or owner or something, brought over to our table a handsome-looking young man, probably right around my own age, and explained that the guy knows very little English, and, if I would like, would be willing to work with me on improving my Spanish, if I would help him learn English.  And no, I hadn’t told him about yesterday’s declaration.

Isn’t life awesome? 😀

To give a little context, – the waiter was not being crazy or anything, with his suggestion that the helper and I work on language together – I had asked the waiter, after interacting with him a few times in English, if he would speak to us in Spanish from now on.  My mom had studied Spanish in high school, and then briefly in college, and has had plenty of interactions with Spanish in the years since then.  I spent a summer in Spain while in high school, and had just used Spanish all over for a couple years after that.  So, while it could be difficult at times, I figured we could handle it.

The waiter was delighted at the request, and instantly spewed out fast Spanish.  My mom told him almost immediately (in Spanish), “But you have to speak more slowly, because I am a gringa.”  (It’s essentially a term for foreigners.)  We all laughed, and he acquiesced.

As the meal went on, the waiter would pause and chat with us here and there.  He moved here from Mexico when he was 17 or 19 (I forget which), and don’t even know how to say ‘please’ in English.  To help himself learn English, he watched the American movies, and had on the English subtitles, and action I fully approve and support, and which I have done plenty myself.  He also spoke of how strong the Spanish-speaking community is in Houston, and that I need only get involved, and they will turn me into a Latina.  He learned that we are not studying Spanish; that I speak Spanish, but just never use it; that I just lived back from Japan; and that I just have no friends here who speak Spanish.  So it made sense that he brought over the guy later.  And it wasn’t weird.

When we left, a while later, I gave the young guy my number on a napkin.

Post-a-day 2017

Apples, Apple Butter, and Why the Dentist Likes Me

Tonight, we made apple butter, and we canned it properly.  We still have loads of sliced apples, but now we know how to make apple butter, so we can easily do another round tomorrow, I guess, if we feel up to it.  Hopefully Hannah’s friends will eat most of them tomorrow, though (This is not a royal self-address, but merely a different Hannah.).

I gave almost half of my 23lbs of sliced apples to the dental hygienist earlier, when I went for my cleaning and check-up.  It was my first time in a year and a half – a huge change from three times per year.  The only comment ever made about my oral healthcare is the color of my teeth.  She says that it is purely genetics that have my teeth be slightly yellow on the inside and all, as opposed to surface stains (like what coffee and tobacco cause), and so there isn’t really anything I have done poorly there, but I could have them professionally whitened, if I wanted.  Otherwise, she spends the hour practically bouncing with delight at how little buildup she can find on my teeth (i.e. almost none).  She never fails to declare that she wished she could end every day with an appointment with teeth like mine.  Today, she was extra delighted, because I gave her apples AND I took amazing care of my teeth.  She almost couldn’t believe that it had been a year since my last cleaning… “Fun fact:,” I said, “It’s been about a year and a half.”  She had to check the log to verify, she struggled so much to believe it.

And, as I had guessed, an old filling of mine had worn down just enough that it needs replacing (on that one part of it, anyway).  The dentist also mentioned that it would be best to repair the more recent chip I have in another filling in the front.  Also somewhat expected.  When the dentist asked whether I flossed, the hygienist and I shared a secret chuckle – not only do I floss daily, and then some, but I had been asking her about tricks to get to the few spots where I knew I would have some buildup (and actually did have a tiny bit)… I am her ideal patient, essentially.  I wasn’t always, of course, but I really took on my oral health after an incident several years ago with multiple fillings being needed within a very short time period.  So, I actually love going to the dentist now, and they kind of love me (they love my teeth, anyway).  I’m glad she got those apples…

Yeah, so, I made apple butter tonight with Hannah.  It was awesome.  And the canning was terrifying, just a bit.

Post-a-day 2017

For the common good… -ish

I was thinking about death last night  (It makes sense, I promise.), and I came to an interesting idea.  Someone was discussing how she couldn’t understand why someone so amazing as the friend who just died could die.  Why would God take away someone who brings so much to the world? she asked, rhetorically.  

And what came to mind almost immediately, was, ‘Because it was time for that good to spread.’  

Now that that person is gone, all of the people in her life who found her to be spectacular, now have a sense of powerful, willing obligation to carry on a This or a That from her life.  This way, although this one person only impacted so many people directly by living, the desire to keep good in the world drives those people to carry on her good to others, directly affecting more people than she ever even met.  Whenever we lose someone we love, it is common and natural for us to carry forward consciously and intentionally something that person would say or do in life.  We already do a good amount of that unintentionally, of course, but the death of a person affects us in a different way, often calling us to even note inpactful action in our lives.  And so, losing someone so wonderful can almost feel like the world saying, ‘Okay, it’s time to increase this good influence on the world exponentially.’

Kind of cool, I think.  It’s an idea, nonetheless.

Post-a-day 2017

High School Fun in the Club

In high school, a friend convinced me to go to a Benny Benassi concert with a small group of friends.  It was the three guys and my best friend and I.  It was my first time going to a club with friends who weren’t dance friends, but just regular friends, and I think it was my first club concert experience, too.  Whatever the case, it was an exciting night for me, and for the others.

We had arranged for everyone to sleep at my house that night.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was our best option.  My best friend and I had to be up early for graduation the next morning (Yes, our own graduation), and the guys had to leave a few hours later, when my mom was heading out to come to our graduation.  So, the guys were getting more sleep than we were, but not too much more.  (Their graduation wasn’t until the Sunday morning.)

At the concert, we all had a great time.  It was my first experience of noticeable public smoking of marijuana, which was oddly neat, finally seeing that world, but in a safe environment, and where it wouldn’t affect me in any way.  But the best part of it all was the dancing.

Being trained in something is cool and all, but being able to be free from the training, and just do my own thing is always way fun.  It was a blast just dancing around without concern, surrounded by friends.  Okay, we did have a concern for space at times, but we were really good at getting people to spread away from us, so we had our space to dance comfortably.

In the later dancing, however, came the unforgettable part: My self-given challenge.  You see, my friend Victor had worn a sideways baseball cap, and that apparently was enough for me to devise myself a fun little challenge to get as much off of Victor as possible.  The key challenge was to do it without his noticing.

I think the others each found out about my challenge at some point or other – heck, I think the idea partly sprang from their suggesting I try to steal his belt.  (We were not being sexual about it at all – it was totally surface level fun… just so we’re clear.)  And so, we all knew, and Victor had no idea that anything was up.

After a great time of dancing and cheering and whatnot together, we all were ready to head home.  Walking in the parking lot, after exiting the club, not one of us comments on what I am wearing.  Victor, however, looking down at himself, practically exclaims suddenly, “Woah!  Why does my shirt only have two buttons closed?!”

We all keep our silence as we struggle not to burst with laughter.  After what felt like forever, but likely was only a second or three,  Victor figures it out.  (I think it was a combination of our telling him and his realizing bits on his own.)  in addition to my own clothing, I am wearing Victor’s hat and belt.  And I was so close on the button-down he was wearing – there were a million buttons on it, and I had all but two undone.  I believe I also had his wallet, and possibly his car keys.  And he had no idea about any of it.

For whatever reason, I was proud of my accomplishments.  Being stealthy took skill, and I was proud to have had it in abundance that night.

Yeah, that was a good time.  🙂

Post-a-day 2017

College Crush

After meeting up with a friend from college tonight, I have college people on my mind.  This friend mentioned, “I think you just knew more people than I did,” (I might have edited that for improved grammar, but I really don’t remember.) an idea that seems almost crazy, seeing as how he spent the full time on campus, but I only spent about half of my shortened college career on campus.  And I was placed in the introvert section of my freshman dorm… I think I was the only one who knew everyone in my hall that year.

One person in particular has come to mind as I mingle in this thought of meeting so many people: my reasonable crush.  Certainly, I had more than one little crush in college, but there was one who didn’t seem to have anything like a big red flag, when it came to the idea of practicality of the crush.  It wasn’t like I ever intended to do anything about the crush, but he was the only one who might actually have agreed to go on a date with me, had I somehow found myself asking him.

I don’t recall the absolute first time we met, but the first time we really had a one-on-one was at a regular college party.  I had gone over with some girls from my hall – we’d all ridden in one girl’s car together.  No one expected me to stay long at the party, but I usually went to the party for a little bit, chatted, danced, hung out, went home, and then went back to the party to pick up the girls whenever they were finished for the night.  On this particular night, nothing was different.  I was alcohol-free and dancing near a corner, I believe (more out of avoiding having alcohol spilled on me and drunk guys trying to rub up on me, than out of an attempt to isolate myself).  And, somehow, I found myself talking with this guy.  

He was cute in his drunken efforts to flirt and be sweet, though the fact that the efforts were drunken gave him no real chance of anything other than talking a bit with me.  Afterward, at least one of the girls commented on how he wouldn’t leave me alone at the party, we talked for so long.  I enjoyed the attention, but the drunken lining was not to my taste, so I considered little on the matter.  I was just talking to a guy half out of his wits, and he was nice.  And that was it.  I don’t remember when my crush began with him, if it was before or a while after this experience, but I never accept drunken thoughts as forms of true, desired communication, so his “interest” was easily disregarded.  And a guy drinking at a college party usually wants sex, not a girlfriend and potential wife.

But, later on, after the crush was fully settled within me, I delighted in watching him swim fabulously on the swim team, one of the cool sports at our school where everyone seemed to be just really neat people of various backgrounds.

Anyway, by the time I was visiting one of my best friends, years later, in her last semester of college (I finished college early, remember.), my crush was in full swing.  My friend informed me that my crush lived in the house just over from hers.  I had already envied her living in that particular old-style house near campus, and I only envied it more at this piece of information.

‘He showed up at the back door, and asked for butter once.’  (Or was it that she asked him for butter, and he asked her for eggs once?  I’ll have to ask her.  She might still remember.)

We both knew I was filled with teenage girl crush envy at this.  I could have possibly befriended him, if I had taken longer for college, and lived in my rightfully earned place at that awesome house.  But I didn’t, and so it goes.

Anyway, he’s hopefully more gorgeous than ever, working a great job, and making great money that allows him to clad himself in stunning attire.  I haven’t kept up, but he’s still gorgeous in my head, and I think I’m actually nervous to look him up and find out that his health and looks didn’t improve with age since college.

Post-a-day 2017

Today, and also beauty

Today did not go really at all as intended, and yet it was wonderful.  I felt confident as a person, powerfully beautiful as a woman, and classily stellar as a guide to my young companion.  I want to look at today to see what made the difference for each of these things and more to have happened with such ease and success, which is quite different from the everyday to which I am accustomed.  My daily has become quite beautiful for me, however, there were elements of today – especially my comfort and confidence as a beautiful woman – that haven’t been successful yet in my day-to-day.  Perhaps I will discuss it all on here more later, but, for now, I’ll just mention that the “confidence” part of the beautiful woman idea is not a matter of being a confident woman; rather, it is of being confident as a beautiful, desirable woman.  I have experienced the beautiful, desirable throughout my life, but mostly with a pressing experience of embarrassment or ‘please, forgive me, I don’t mean it,’ or even ‘I’m sorry to be looking like this, and I am not trying to entice you.’

Anyway… my head aches incredibly, so I’ll sleep now.

Post-a-day 2017