T-shirts

To this day, I remember Kristin L— in the bathroom at middle school, saying that the ideal roll for a t-shirt sleeve was two rolls up…

To this day, I still agree with her…

And I think of her just about every time I roll or consider rolling my t-shirt sleeves…

And, every time I think of her in this scenario, I have a fleeting moment of physical memory of my nervousness, my sense of not-quite-adequacy I always had around her… I envied her, and, at times, longed to be her (she, of course)… I watched her, observed her, taking in the lessons.

What did I love so much about her?

Well, she was somewhat popular, but it wasn’t so much that as the qualities and attributes that made her popular that had me longing most.

She danced.

I eventually became a world champion dancer (yes, I have an actual world title).

She did the French tuck with her t-shirts, and rolled the sleeves up twice, always looking fabulous.

I now do that when I feel like with my t-shirts (instead of being too scared of declared to be “copying”, and then not doing it st all).

She wore bras that looked feminine.

I eventually got there, but have found my own version of balancing feminine with natural and with comfortable.

She was confident in life (mostly, anyway… an air of general confidence, we’ll say).

I am comfortable in who I am, and am generally confident in myself and about life as a whole (though the rough bits get to me at times).

She had a Jeep destined to her, horses to visit, and a determined location for college.

I had lots of openness and no-idea-ness for my far future, and kind of still do…, but I embrace it as a dream board to collage nowadays… and I’ve been interning with horses, learning to care for and ride them, too…

All of this made her gorgeous in my eyes.

The comfortable self-confidence projects radiance from my own eyes, and I find myself staring at smiling me in the mirror on many of the good days, and even on some of the not-too-good ones… the rest of my accomplishments have little to do with the beauty I see and admire in myself.

Yet, there is still something about her that makes my insides feel clenchy and hollow and longing, whenever I think about her or her life at present… I still little girl style long to be more like her (she)… to be her (she)… even though I know I want to be myself… that little girl still longs for something unsatisfied in the relationship, it seems, and I’m not sure what it is…

Perhaps I could write her a letter, read it aloud, as though to her (but not actually to her), and then let it all go… perhaps that would handle it all for me.

Yes, I think I’ll give that a go next week (because I still have final papers for this week to do).

Wish me luck and freedom! 😀

Post-a-day 2019

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… And so I did

Today, I accomplished money-earning work that helps others, I learned something, I trusted my instincts, I interacted with and chatted with smart, kind people, I did someone a big favor, I completed one of the assignments from school (the one I had most nearly despised), I ate quite decent food (and twice!) for myself, I talked with my cousin about useful things for the both of us, I patted and got licked by a dog, and I got licked and leaned against a bunch as I learned about and helped care for and rode horses (which included detangling a bunch of hair).

Then, while showering and running my fingers through my own hair to detangle it, I felt something strangely similar to the feeling of the horse’s hair – recall that my hair is dirty blonde and just about as opposite in texture from horse hair as is possible – and eventually discovered that the slightly knitted area felt similar due to the fact that it had hay in it. 😛

Totally chuckled at that, if only on the inside of me. 😉

I did many things today, and they all contributed to my day being beautiful for my life, and even extremely helpful for my struggle-filled mood of the past couple weeks… I don’t want to do lame work, but I can always find something interesting within it, once I get started on it.

And so, as I suspected, getting going was what I needed most to get on track with things – resisting, evading, and avoiding, as I already knew, were definitely not the beneficial path for me. 😛

So now, preparing for bed, I’m not even attempting to turn on a film or anything, despite the fact that I needn’t actually be up until around 1pm tomorrow, because I am exhausted in a good way and I feel good, and so I want to go ahead and read and sleep.

Super signs of a good day, a day well spent. ❤

Post-a-day 2019

Horses and Shooting

Today, I watched some mounted shooting.  At this rodeo, anyway, mounted shooting means that an individual rides his or her horse across the arena, following a sort of zig-zagged pattern, and then back in a straight line, all while shooting, in a specific order, ten balloons that are placed around the arena.  The average speed for doing this was 12-14 seconds.  I’m not sure I could even have sprinted from one end of the arena to the other in that time, or even made all ten shots successfully while standing still in that time, and these people were riding all around it and back, knocking out balloons with their pistols along the way.  Somehow, things like this make perfect sense to me, and I love watching them.  It made me, even more than ever, want to ride horses every week in my life.

Though, I’m more of a Robinhood type, and so I would want to do mounted bow-and-arrow shooting, myself.

Post-a-day 2018

ukulele and hula

I started ukulele lessons today.  It also included a reunion and a brief lesson on Hawaiian, the language, which were both a fabulous bonus.

I’ve always had a sort of passive affinity for Hawaiian culture – that wonderful island life, about which I knew almost nothing.  I was almost afraid to go to Hawaiʻi, for fear of finding that the wonderful world I’d imagined was no longer in existence.  After living in Japan, even being in the countryside, I have learned the sort of balance that likely exists in the culture today.  It is like cowboys in Texas.  We have our big buildings and fancy cars and billboards, but you can still find, here and there, the true tradition.  Sometimes, it is only seen in ceremonies.  And sometimes it is part of someone’s everyday life.

My brother, though he rides and owns no horses, spends his days working on his land.  Physical labor in jeans and surrounded by grass, trees, and animals is his life most days.  And he grew up in the city.  There are plenty of others who grew up living his kind of life, and who still do the ranching on horseback.  Inside our city limits, no one would guess that that kind of life is just beyond our little area.  The average person wouldn’t even cross it knowingly, if he went driving outside the city, either.  You have to know how to find it.  And that’s just how Japan was… When I think of Hawaiʻi now, that’s how I imagine it must be to a certain degree.

Anyway, ukulele is fun.  I started it back in Japan, because I was lonely and didn’t have music in my life.  Plus, Hawaiian culture seemed to be prominent in Japan (the reasons for which I hadn’t understood at first), so ukulele seemed an appropriate way to bring music into my life while in Japan.  I even took a few hula lessons.  (Yes, they were awesome.)

Actually, what really spawned my desire to learn hula and ukulele – not just the casual interest with which I first bought the ukulele, but the real desire that got me into lessons for hula and then, finally, for ukulele now – was a film.  It was based in Hawaiʻi, and the caucasian daughter, maybe about 14 years old (I forget), did hula.  The way she moved her arms in the dance had me gazing, melting, it was just so beautiful to me.  Watching her dance, I had something happen within me.  I guess, because she was not Japanese or Hawaiian, but like me went through me head… I was able to see hula differently.  It was, at last, something that it was acceptable for me to do.

I had seen Japanese friends perform wonderfully, and plenty of other Japanese women I don’t even know, too.  But their close ties to Hawaiʻi made it okay for them to do it.  It was regular and standard for them to be doing hula.  But what – it isn’t “right”, but something like that, “reason” perhaps – reason does a German-heritage girl from Texas have for doing hula, without an extreme, intense love for it?

Maybe this is just my own brain that had me stuck in this thought process, but it just didn’t make enough sense to me to feel comfortable with pursuing hula.  It felt to me like visiting a religious building for a region to which one does not belong and about which one knows very little.  It isn’t that the person is not allowed.  Not at all.  It is just that the person can feel a little lost and uncertain when visiting, and so it can be difficult to visit in the first place, without having a sort of invitation.  That’s kind of how I felt about hula.

And that movie helped alter that for me.  I started attending hula classes whenever I could, and began somewhat seeking out a ukulele teacher.

Eventually, nude in a hot spring bath in the mountains, I found one.  And now, almost a year later, we finally are in the same country and with the same currency (that was the issue before), so we can do lessons.  We aren’t anywhere near one another, of course, because I’m in Texas and she’s in Hawaiʻi, but it’s going well so far.  Playing together is a bit weird, because of the lag, but I’ve worked with it for years with other things, so I’m somewhat accustomed to being slightly ahead of the beat and to hearing the clash of notes and timing, so that it sounds good on the other side.  All-in-all, it was fun, and I look forward to the next lesson next week.  😀

So, go listen to a ukulele song today, and think of me, yeah?  😉

P.S.  Icicles were crashing outside my window during our lesson today.  And this is Houston.  How cool is that?!  Or warming, I guess…

IMG_2640

Post-a-day 2018