Patience is a virtue

Two things:

1) I successfully, though unintentionally, convinced a room full of people tonight that I am 21/22 and fresh out of college… not sure how I feel about that exactly… I mean, sure, it’s funny to me, but I’m not sure if there isn’t anything else there, a concern, perhaps…

2) I looked into doing that scary but loving thing just now, and it is proving much more difficult than I had thought it would be… fortunately, I have someone who is likely to be a spectacular resource in the subject, and this is someone I can ask for this help… whatever the outcome, it is likely to create a whole new space to our relationship with one another, because the question I will be asking will lead necessarily to some intense and private information…, and, I think, show how 1) crazy I am and 2) loving I am… so, yeah… that’s likely to be really quite the unique experience when I get that opportunity… the struggle of it isn’t the matter of intimacy it could cause but the fact that I have to arrange myself to come into contact with the person in order to ask for the help in the first place, and that can be tough… and it will take patience, for sure…

::sigh

Life is nuts, and, though I totally love it, there’s a lot of nuts-ness in it, especially these days for me… :/

Oh, well… here goes, anyway(!).

Post-a-day 2020

Too early to rise

It’s 8:22pm, I feel like throwing up, I’m 3000+ steps short on my daily requirement, I haven’t finished my bedtime activities, I am utterly exhausted, and we have to be at the pick-up, ready to go at 3:15am.

And there is live music going on outside, various Christmas songs blasting across the property of this resort – my first resort, and probably one of the worst versions of resorts for me in particular (I don’t like dirty or muggy indoors) – like everyone is in a party mood.

Supposedly, Christmas is an all-over party mood for the islands here…, but it seems weird to have such a celebration happening at a resort that is filled mostly with Japanese people…

Anyway… 3:15am is too close for comfort right now, especially without our car/pickup booking details…

Ouch.

Goodnight, I hope.

Post-a-day 2019

Photo Lingo

I helped out on a little photo shoot today.

I always learn something new at these, which is great, but I always enjoy them just for the fun of their being an event: a photo shoot.

Photo shoots aren’t just an everyday nothing, really… usually, they are, to some degree, a little or big to do, an event that requires at least one someone’s best up-do, and then some.

Today’s, though a small shoot, was no different.

Those being photographed were clearly in their best getup for the occasion, make-up done to a T, and several costume changes at the ready.

It was, as I mentioned, an event.

Now, this was fun, of course…, especially some of the silly things that happened throughout the photo shoot.

However, the little nugget of surprise delight and God-granted satisfaction popped up when we had a few quick comments from the photographer to one of the models, who was the husband of someone there.

The photographer was giving a few specifics about how to do something, if that model was doing it, and then somewhat simultaneously asking the model to come throw something in the background of the photo.

Now, the husband of this model, in a moderate accent, said to the model, “Entiendes?”, which is Spanish for, ‘Do you understand?’

The husband then gave an iffy explanation, still in English, of what the photographer had been saying.

I could tell that neither one of them was getting what the photographer had said, not even the English-speaking husband…, and so I went ahead and, in a quick aside, verified with the photographer for myself when he had wanted communicated.

I then, while still standing atop a large ladder, broke into the conversation between the husbands, addressing the Spanish-speaking one pointedly.

I asked him a few questions in Spanish, told him the first the the photographer had said, and then communicated the answers to the photographer in English.

I then explained to the model, again in Spanish, the second topic the photographer had mentioned (i.e. throwing those objects), and asked if he could do it.

He asked for some clarity on specifics, and then readily agreed.

Problem was solved, and amazing photos ensued.

When that model was then in photos, I let him know to tell me if ever and whenever he did not understand… he agreed, and proceeded to check with me on just about everything that was said to him.

At the end of it all, it had become very clear that he was relieved to have had me there, and everyone was grateful for my surprise super-helpfulness in the form of Spanish, whipped out of my back pocket.

Might I point out that I am dirty blonde, pale, and blue-eyed, – obvious German heritage of which, one could imagine, Adolf would have been proud – an outer shell that does not boast a likelihood of speaking Spanish?

But it is situations just like these that send a delighted tickle to my core when they arise, because everyone is simultaneously flabbergasted and relieved that I have this oh-so-unexpected skill.

I love having my languages be of use.

When I went for that “Super” trip the other day, it felt like a relief and a blessing that the person selling turned out to be a German guy, with whom I was able to interact in German… it made things feel ever so slightly more ‘right’, like I was on the right path.

It really felt today that this same sort of thing was happening – the World, God, was making a sign to me that I was (and am) in the right place.

I want photography to be the right place, and it increasingly feels more and more like it is the right place for me to be and to be putting my efforts and my love and my passion right now…, so this whole Spanish thing today was like a super-blessing from God and the World.

So, yay!

Thank you, God.

Thank you, World.

Thank you, Universe.

Help me to continue on this beautiful path that is meant for me to create and travel, that I might share the beauty and the love I have to offer the World. πŸ™‚

……..

In a separate note, I found myself wondering this evening: How can a couple be married, and not really be able to communicate in the same language?

From what I saw today, the one guy’s Spanish is super limited, and the other’s English is very questionable… so, how do they communicate?

Is it really more like the idea of mail-order brides that caught on back when I was little, than a naturally-occurring relationship?

But then, perhaps their language is presence, and words are in the works…

I know fully well that speaking the same language fully isn’t exactly a requirement for wanting to be with someone.

I even had a time (with one of the acrobats) in which I declared this guy and I could not date until we both spoke the same language fluently (though, I didn’t care what language that ended up being), and I, eventually, followed my declaration (after, of course, passively ignoring it, and, essentially, being in an informal but distinct relationship with him for about six weeks)…. (We had a great time, but too many problems began to arise due, mostly, to language issues, but also to cultural differences.)

So, they very well could be that way, where words are not the language of the now relationship, because they just absolutely hit it off without the words, but the words are in the plans for the future of the relationship.

I dunno… anything is possible, but I know that I, personally, need to speak the same language fluently as my partner in life, whatever language that may be.

Post-a-day 2019

Ugh…

Itch itch itch itch

Scraaaaaaaaatch-ch-ch

Ugh!

Itch itch itch itch

Scra-scra-scra-scraaaaaatch-ch-ch

Mmmuh(!)

Sure, some raccoons have been ha sled (literally), but the fleas are still around, and I suddenly have a handful of extremely itchy spots…

I guess it was useful that my mother gave me a bottle of ammonia the other day, despite the fact that it was over a week after I didn’t need it anymore… guess I need it now.

Hmm… this really is quite dreadful… what shall I do l, when we can’t treat with a bomb or anything of the sort, due to the nature of the house and what has to happen here regularly – there is no naturally flea bomb yet, is there?!

Just sprays so far, which has certainly done a good job of killing them, but only when I manage to spray them directly.

Ugh…(!!!)

So much for sleeping soundly anymore – that might have been the best part of the retreat this weekend…(not having to worry about fleas)

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.’

πŸ˜› hashtag guffaw πŸ˜›

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. πŸ˜›

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

πŸ™‚

Post-a-day 2019

Moving

I’ll pack the bulk of it, and then do the million-gillion trips to the car and house, if you do the packing off all the miscellaneous items…

My brain just can’t handle it… simultaneously packing the last things in a hurry and arranging them in the most efficient positions… it just makes me go nuts whenever I have to do it, and I almost always take longer doing that than I spent on all the rest of the packing combined… packing the miscellaneous is just too stressy on my brain, because the logic of hurry does not win over the logic of pack efficiently.

It just doesn’t in my head. πŸ˜›

Suffice it to say that I am utterly drained, but still surviving due to the help offered by two glorious friends tonight from about nine to eleven… they were a Godsend, no doubt, and I would have suffered intensely in the head and body without them.

Still more to do to finish everything up, but those are just baby touches compared to what we accomplished tonight.

I thank you all, who blessed me today πŸ™‚

Post-a-day 2018

Dear Goodness, really??

I’ve noticed that I have been having trouble getting myself to go to bed recently. Β I realized only just now that it is in large part due to my fear of roaches. Β I’ve been housesitting, and there have been at least ten roaches with which I’ve had to deal over the past week-ish (not to mention the surprise flea infestation). Β Talk about panic and paranoia taking over, I’ve been a sort of total mess this past week. Β When I opened the door to bring something out to my mom this evening, a roach came rushing inside, and I screamed and broke almost instantly into tears. Β I could barely speak, as I finished handing my mom the stuff, and headed back inside to deal with the bug. Β It’s just not my cup of tea, so to speak, managing such a thing. Β Quite frankly, I almost wish that I lived in a hermetically sealed box – at least then I would have clean air flow and no bugs, since it would be magical and all.

Sigh… now, that would be nice…

Anyway, my mom thinks that there is something that the world has been aiming to impart to me through this dreadful bag of events thrown at me this past week+. Β I am inclined to see it so, too, though I’m not too sure yet as to what is being imparted to me. Β  Perhaps it has been something to the effect of being able to appreciate what I already have in life, or to show that even I can survive what I personally consider to be some of the most dreadful circumstances in life, and, therefore, I really can survive life as a whole (something which has genuinely concerned me at times). Β Perhaps it is to be a sort of starting block for me to want something more for myself, as I see more and more clearly what sorts of things are important to me in my everyday life. Β One thing is for sure: Living in town doesn’t matter much, if I don’t have friends and I don’t have activities in which I am involved. Β I’m still on my own all day long, and it sucks just about as much in town as it does in the suburbs.

Yeah…

Post-a-day 2018