Hazards include: throwing dry-clean only sweaters in the wash (resulting in doll clothing post-drying), hitting the snooze button 30 times, being late to everything, being a lazy mofo in general. Except for when I want something, then I kick my motivation into hyperdrive.
Yawn.
Worked around 40 hours at VS last week, it was almost as though I have a real job.
Speaking of ~ I got a call from Ithaca College, my alma mater, a few hours ago. I raised an eyebrow when I got a call from my home phone, since that never happens -- and of course it was a call asking for donations. I'm sorry, but I'm curious how the communications school gets these massive alumni donations. One thing I do know is that if we were to examine the statistics of the high roller donors, they don't come from the 20-something demographic and they sure as hell don't come from journalism grad's. Sigh. Even when I did have my last journalism gig, I made $40 a story, which is pitiful. The amount of work, blood/sweat/tears (and any other bodily fluid?) and energy put forth in writing news isn't proportionate to the payoff. Literally speaking, of course.
Solution is to take some other path -- luckily a J degree can be applied to many different fields...right? Mlehhhh.
Seems like all I do in this blog, post-Spain, is bitch & moan about my lack of meaningful employment.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Another life update
OK, Debbie Downer time, a li'l bit: I don't like the holidays. To me, it signals a time when I put on 5 pounds and I get stressed for stupid reasons. Everybody runs around like headless chickens when we're supposed to be all glowing about the awesomeness of the season. It's no wonder why so many people get depressed in November/December. Of course, it makes even more sense where there are real seasons and it's gloomy every damn day, unlike SoCal.
I miss snow. I find it utterly bizarre to not have to bust out the pea coat, scarf, and tall boots -- those days where you're freezing your ass off and you have stains at the bottom of your pant legs because of the salt sprinkled on the pavement. It's hard to get in the mood for Christmas when it's 65 degrees and sunny each and every day, but shmeh. Unlike many of my antidepressant-taking peers, I don't suffer from seasonal affective disorder. I like me some rain, snow, etc. Oh sure, I get down if it's gloom and doom every day, but I also love waking up to a crisply cold morning where you are bundled up in a ton of layers...those days where you take a huge coffee on the road with you on your way to class/work/etc. Hell, I even miss having to drive on black ice. I feel so out of place in SoCal, sometimes, that I just want to scream when I see yet another woman wearing ginormous sunglasses in an indoor mall. RAHHH.
Forgive my rampant cynicism tonight, my bad. I guess.
Life's actually pretty good right now, I'm just venting.
Turns out the horse I rode from July through November went out on trial to get sold, but then he came back within a week because of his head shaking problem. Yeah. He shakes his head in bright light, and because this is LA land, that means he isn't nearly as competitive as he would be without it. It's really unfortunate, because he is a very fancy horse, it's just that there's no cure for head shaking -- yet, anyway. There's no treatment, really, either at this point. The main thing you can do is throw on a fly mask and a hair net on their nose, so I suppose that's the bandaid you slap on to make the horse not-miserable, but you can't use those accessories in a horse show, unfortunately. Rahhh. Well, anyway, now he's back (Cappuccino is his name), but it turns out I've started to ride another horse, anyway.
I'm going to keep leasing this new horse I've been riding, too, because he's a much better fit for the kind of stuff I want to do, not to mention I fit him better, physically because he's taller and more athletic. I'm having tons of fun on this horse, Z, because he's much more challenging than Cappuccino, not to mention I'm finally jumping bigger jumps again! Sheesh...it's so difficult to find a decent 3'6" + horse to lease without paying an arm and a leg, I really picked the wrong sport, man. I shoulda picked up ping pong or chess or something, because this is all way too expensive.
Aaaanyway, here's pic's of me and Z:
My goal is that I'll be able to compete in level 3 jumpers by the spring, that is, if this horse hasn't sold by then. He's still pretty green, so I doubt he'll sell. Usually the people willing to shell out the dough for a nice jumper horse don't want to buy the greenies, but who knows. I asked my mom if we could pony up the cash to buy a horse, again, at some point, and I literally got laughed at...but I mean, yeah, that makes sense. I should be paying for all this junk on my own without needing the financial help from the 'rents, being that I'm supposedly an adult (I still don't feel like one, though, despite already having been financially independent and living on my own, once upon a time). I'm just grateful that I can ride at all, it prevents me from dive-bombing into depression -- not that I'm free and clear of that happening, anyway, what with its nasty habit of relapsing whenever my brain chemicals decide that emotional stability is for bitches. Ah, mood disorder, I shake my fist at thee.
What else? Oh yeah, I'm going to be alone for Thanksgiving this year. Yeah. The Bobergs are all going to Iowa without me, because I have to stay home and work 30 hours next week at VS. Woohoo, boooobs. I'm enjoying working at VS again, but what I hate-hate-hate is pushing the god forsaken credit card on people. The managers always say "make sure you are enthusiastic and the benefits and the yadda yadda blah blah...one in ten people will sign up!" Uhhh, what I hear there is nine in ten will shoot you down and give possibly you death glares for being an irritating salesperson.
Real job searching continues, but trying to get a reporter job, I might as well resign myself to living in a cardboard box for the the rest of my life. Yeah, print journalism is going the way of the milkman, I'm afraid. I'm going to have to double up on some other field in order to put my writing to use, probably. What I'd love to pursue is corporate journalism. One of my dad's coworkers does that and he and his wife both wrote for the LA Times and did extensive investigative reporting, so I want to arrange another lunch with them so they can give me some tips about WTF I should do to get my foot in that door. Right now my ego is all deflated and I feel a bit hopeless about getting a real job, but shmeh. It's just disheartening that barely any job offers have popped up that are worth taking since I've been home from Spain. Lame ^ nth.
Anyway, I'm gonna attempt to sleep. Keyword, attempt. Wish me luck!
I miss snow. I find it utterly bizarre to not have to bust out the pea coat, scarf, and tall boots -- those days where you're freezing your ass off and you have stains at the bottom of your pant legs because of the salt sprinkled on the pavement. It's hard to get in the mood for Christmas when it's 65 degrees and sunny each and every day, but shmeh. Unlike many of my antidepressant-taking peers, I don't suffer from seasonal affective disorder. I like me some rain, snow, etc. Oh sure, I get down if it's gloom and doom every day, but I also love waking up to a crisply cold morning where you are bundled up in a ton of layers...those days where you take a huge coffee on the road with you on your way to class/work/etc. Hell, I even miss having to drive on black ice. I feel so out of place in SoCal, sometimes, that I just want to scream when I see yet another woman wearing ginormous sunglasses in an indoor mall. RAHHH.
Forgive my rampant cynicism tonight, my bad. I guess.
Life's actually pretty good right now, I'm just venting.
Turns out the horse I rode from July through November went out on trial to get sold, but then he came back within a week because of his head shaking problem. Yeah. He shakes his head in bright light, and because this is LA land, that means he isn't nearly as competitive as he would be without it. It's really unfortunate, because he is a very fancy horse, it's just that there's no cure for head shaking -- yet, anyway. There's no treatment, really, either at this point. The main thing you can do is throw on a fly mask and a hair net on their nose, so I suppose that's the bandaid you slap on to make the horse not-miserable, but you can't use those accessories in a horse show, unfortunately. Rahhh. Well, anyway, now he's back (Cappuccino is his name), but it turns out I've started to ride another horse, anyway.
I'm going to keep leasing this new horse I've been riding, too, because he's a much better fit for the kind of stuff I want to do, not to mention I fit him better, physically because he's taller and more athletic. I'm having tons of fun on this horse, Z, because he's much more challenging than Cappuccino, not to mention I'm finally jumping bigger jumps again! Sheesh...it's so difficult to find a decent 3'6" + horse to lease without paying an arm and a leg, I really picked the wrong sport, man. I shoulda picked up ping pong or chess or something, because this is all way too expensive.
Aaaanyway, here's pic's of me and Z:
My goal is that I'll be able to compete in level 3 jumpers by the spring, that is, if this horse hasn't sold by then. He's still pretty green, so I doubt he'll sell. Usually the people willing to shell out the dough for a nice jumper horse don't want to buy the greenies, but who knows. I asked my mom if we could pony up the cash to buy a horse, again, at some point, and I literally got laughed at...but I mean, yeah, that makes sense. I should be paying for all this junk on my own without needing the financial help from the 'rents, being that I'm supposedly an adult (I still don't feel like one, though, despite already having been financially independent and living on my own, once upon a time). I'm just grateful that I can ride at all, it prevents me from dive-bombing into depression -- not that I'm free and clear of that happening, anyway, what with its nasty habit of relapsing whenever my brain chemicals decide that emotional stability is for bitches. Ah, mood disorder, I shake my fist at thee.What else? Oh yeah, I'm going to be alone for Thanksgiving this year. Yeah. The Bobergs are all going to Iowa without me, because I have to stay home and work 30 hours next week at VS. Woohoo, boooobs. I'm enjoying working at VS again, but what I hate-hate-hate is pushing the god forsaken credit card on people. The managers always say "make sure you are enthusiastic and the benefits and the yadda yadda blah blah...one in ten people will sign up!" Uhhh, what I hear there is nine in ten will shoot you down and give possibly you death glares for being an irritating salesperson.
Real job searching continues, but trying to get a reporter job, I might as well resign myself to living in a cardboard box for the the rest of my life. Yeah, print journalism is going the way of the milkman, I'm afraid. I'm going to have to double up on some other field in order to put my writing to use, probably. What I'd love to pursue is corporate journalism. One of my dad's coworkers does that and he and his wife both wrote for the LA Times and did extensive investigative reporting, so I want to arrange another lunch with them so they can give me some tips about WTF I should do to get my foot in that door. Right now my ego is all deflated and I feel a bit hopeless about getting a real job, but shmeh. It's just disheartening that barely any job offers have popped up that are worth taking since I've been home from Spain. Lame ^ nth.
Anyway, I'm gonna attempt to sleep. Keyword, attempt. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Life Update
Workin' hard for the money, woooo! At least, I hope that'll happen. I got a mention of a job offer today when I went to Wellnessmart in Thousand Oaks. I've been there to shoot the sh*t with the main doctor guy, and today I mentioned something about oh yeah, I'm an unemployed bum (well, retail sort of does/doesn't count). So he asked before I left if my contact info was accurate, because he'd like to see if I could write for him. SQUEE.
Granted, this isn't the first time someone has mentioned maybe I could do some writing for him/her, but we'll see what happens. The prospect of it is cool, if nothing else.
Another no-less-important update: I found out one of the reasons I sleep horribly, even when exhausted, is because I might have a dust mite allergy. Apparently your bed is crawling with disgusting bugs (bed bugs?) and you can have a sensitivity to them. Yeah, gross. I mentioned to the doc that I have a problem breathing when I'm laying down, but not when I'm sitting or standing, and he says it's likely an allergy. SHEESH, now I know, after trying practically everything to sleep better: less caffeine, no naps/power naps/4-hour naps, nasal spray, breathe right strips, working out at strategic times, melatonin, ambien, it has all been a wash. I also have the whole anxiety thing keeping me awake, but if it were as simple as a dust mite allergy that is keeping me awake, I would weep with joy to be able to resolve it like this. Stay tuned.
Other: I got evangelized today, against my will. Actually, does anybody ever want to be evangelized? I was just chatting with some lady about why she was planning a trip to Africa and then got to hear a bunch of bull about spreading His word, blahblahblah, "Christ is the only way," and the whole litany of self-righteous tripe. Whenever I have to deal with that, I always probe and ask questions but keep a sort of calm exterior, because there's no point in getting into an argument with people who have no interest in being logical. The thing that I despise is having to defend myself when I get those random accusations. I suppose I could just let it slide, but of course I mentioned "Well, I am Catholic." So this lady goes into some diatribe about how Catholics don't read the Bible, Catholics are drunks who have no reverence for religious festivities, this and that and the other thing. I'm not about to go to bat for Catholicism, but I was getting hugely irritated by hearing an evangelist trash it. I'm sure I could bring up any religion and this woman would've had a conniption fit. Shoulda said I was a Jew, that would've gone well.
RAHHHHHHHH...
Anyway, I'm beyond exhausted. I keep sleeping 4 hours every night and burning my candle at both ends during the day. It would be worse if I had a real job, obviously, but I think I'd end up being completely useless at life if that were the case. Oh, and how delicious is the fact that I can get a job offer without going through all the arduous process of cover letter + resume + job search engine + outside help? Networking = beneficial. It behooves you to network. "Behooves" is probably my favorite word.
Rambling, woops.
Still writing my short story and talking to writer dude who submits to the same website. I've been surprised at how much fun it is to dip into the fiction arena and bounce ideas off other writers. I feel about a thousand times more intellectually stimulated talking to these people than I would, say, watching Dateline and eating chocolate fro yo. I'm checking the box on this website that says I want my submissions to be evaluated for publication, too, so we'll see if that gets off the ground. Right now I've finished my outline and done about 5 pages of a short story (it'll probably hit 60+ by the time I'm done with this installment). We'll see if this leads anywhere.
Yawn. Time to get out and go ride the horse.
Granted, this isn't the first time someone has mentioned maybe I could do some writing for him/her, but we'll see what happens. The prospect of it is cool, if nothing else.
Another no-less-important update: I found out one of the reasons I sleep horribly, even when exhausted, is because I might have a dust mite allergy. Apparently your bed is crawling with disgusting bugs (bed bugs?) and you can have a sensitivity to them. Yeah, gross. I mentioned to the doc that I have a problem breathing when I'm laying down, but not when I'm sitting or standing, and he says it's likely an allergy. SHEESH, now I know, after trying practically everything to sleep better: less caffeine, no naps/power naps/4-hour naps, nasal spray, breathe right strips, working out at strategic times, melatonin, ambien, it has all been a wash. I also have the whole anxiety thing keeping me awake, but if it were as simple as a dust mite allergy that is keeping me awake, I would weep with joy to be able to resolve it like this. Stay tuned.
Other: I got evangelized today, against my will. Actually, does anybody ever want to be evangelized? I was just chatting with some lady about why she was planning a trip to Africa and then got to hear a bunch of bull about spreading His word, blahblahblah, "Christ is the only way," and the whole litany of self-righteous tripe. Whenever I have to deal with that, I always probe and ask questions but keep a sort of calm exterior, because there's no point in getting into an argument with people who have no interest in being logical. The thing that I despise is having to defend myself when I get those random accusations. I suppose I could just let it slide, but of course I mentioned "Well, I am Catholic." So this lady goes into some diatribe about how Catholics don't read the Bible, Catholics are drunks who have no reverence for religious festivities, this and that and the other thing. I'm not about to go to bat for Catholicism, but I was getting hugely irritated by hearing an evangelist trash it. I'm sure I could bring up any religion and this woman would've had a conniption fit. Shoulda said I was a Jew, that would've gone well.
RAHHHHHHHH...
Anyway, I'm beyond exhausted. I keep sleeping 4 hours every night and burning my candle at both ends during the day. It would be worse if I had a real job, obviously, but I think I'd end up being completely useless at life if that were the case. Oh, and how delicious is the fact that I can get a job offer without going through all the arduous process of cover letter + resume + job search engine + outside help? Networking = beneficial. It behooves you to network. "Behooves" is probably my favorite word.
Rambling, woops.
Still writing my short story and talking to writer dude who submits to the same website. I've been surprised at how much fun it is to dip into the fiction arena and bounce ideas off other writers. I feel about a thousand times more intellectually stimulated talking to these people than I would, say, watching Dateline and eating chocolate fro yo. I'm checking the box on this website that says I want my submissions to be evaluated for publication, too, so we'll see if that gets off the ground. Right now I've finished my outline and done about 5 pages of a short story (it'll probably hit 60+ by the time I'm done with this installment). We'll see if this leads anywhere.
Yawn. Time to get out and go ride the horse.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Life is busy
You'd think my sleeping would get back on track once my life adjusted to that of a more normal twenty-something, but nope. I guess I'm just a dyed-in-the wool insomniac.
I've been doing a stupid amount of work to get a "real" job. . I'd like to think that that Journalism degree and multilingualism would be worth something, but apparently in this economy, that equals the amazing opportunity of working as a painter. A world-class painter? Oh, even better: a house painter. Yeah, that's what Career Builder would like me to do, anyway, in addition to offers such as electrician and secretary. Oh, sorry, "administrative assistant."
Maybe I should just go to my local temp agency and just chalk it up to the crap economy? Well, right now I'm shooting higher and I joined Cal Lutheran's version of Career Builder, which actually recruits Cal Lutheran students for a sh*tton of career opportunities available almost exclusively in Ventura County. It's completely amazing to have a job search engine that is just for jobs in Ventura County, because "Southern California" is way too broad. California just boggles my mind with its size.
Oh, and no, I have no education background from Cal Lutheran, but when you have both parents with jobs there, it opens the door for that (yay, thanks, mom and dad, for defecting to academia in your 50s). My dad actually has two jobs, which is completely bizarre, seeing how he's always gone to work in his starched dry-clean only getup to live the life of the executive mortgage banker, financial guy. But oh yeah, back to that economy thing, I guess it's necessary to get a second job these days? Luckily for MBAs, apparently you don't even need an education degree to get a job in that field. Or maybe that's just the case at schools like Cal Lutheran? Anyway, bravo, papi. Oh, and my mom isn't teaching, but she just got promoted to Assistant Director of the Multicultural/International Programs, there. Brava, mama.
Yawn. So yeah, I have a budding profile on Cal Luthernan's job search whatever thing. I submitted an unbelievable amount of junk, along with a highly tailored profile, my ruthlessly edited resume, bajillions of writing samples, a sample cover letter, and that doesn't take into account the searching I do to find potential matches for things I can pursue on my own. I'm hoping this will be more successful than Career Builder, but there's probably zero chance it could be worse, unless the CEO of a company calls me up personally to tell me I'm a failure at life and then dissolves into maniacal laughter at my expense.
There she be, in all her glory, I just whited out my contact info, just in case I have potential stalkers (hello, stalkers!).
Other stuff...the horse thing is going. Not necessarily "well," but going. There was a bit of a mishap at my last show, where I opted to scratch half my classes on the last day, because the horse's photosensitivity got the best of him so he wouldn't/couldn't stop shaking his head. I get extremely frustrated by it, but there's not much that can be done but put the horse away, give him a pat, and wait and hope that the next time we show it goes better. And by "better," I mean that he doesn't shake his head so violently that I feel like I'm the passenger in a bumper car, getting shook about on his back. Rahhhh. In any case, I'm pretty sure Cappuccino (horse) will be leaving the barn, soon, anyway, so he can get sold. I'll definitely miss him, it's been a fun partnership. Can't exactly afford a horse right now, though, it's also pretty impractical, seeing how I'll be (hopefully) going to law school and working at the same time, in the next few years. I just wanna have my cake and eat it too, I guess, and do it all. For now, that will have to go on hold until I become wildly successful...or a trophy wife. I have lofty ambitions and my other goal right now is to find my personal sugar daddy who will buy me a summer home and more horses than I can count on one hand. ;-)
Another thing I'm working on is writing a short story and submitting it to an online forum. Apparently there are ways to get compensation if a recruiter sees something they like, so that would be amazing if that happened. I've never written fiction, though, so it's a bit of a hurdle for me. It isn't proving too much of a challenge yet, though, since I am always writing something or another and I write ridiculously thorough outlines. So, I'm hoping this will be more than a hobby, but we'll see if it takes off. I befriended one of the other writers on this site, so he and I have been chatting a lot and he's been helping me as far as inspiration and editing goes, so hooray for that, too.
OK I think I'm gonna (attempt to) hit it, again. Wish me luck.
I've been doing a stupid amount of work to get a "real" job. . I'd like to think that that Journalism degree and multilingualism would be worth something, but apparently in this economy, that equals the amazing opportunity of working as a painter. A world-class painter? Oh, even better: a house painter. Yeah, that's what Career Builder would like me to do, anyway, in addition to offers such as electrician and secretary. Oh, sorry, "administrative assistant."
Maybe I should just go to my local temp agency and just chalk it up to the crap economy? Well, right now I'm shooting higher and I joined Cal Lutheran's version of Career Builder, which actually recruits Cal Lutheran students for a sh*tton of career opportunities available almost exclusively in Ventura County. It's completely amazing to have a job search engine that is just for jobs in Ventura County, because "Southern California" is way too broad. California just boggles my mind with its size.
Oh, and no, I have no education background from Cal Lutheran, but when you have both parents with jobs there, it opens the door for that (yay, thanks, mom and dad, for defecting to academia in your 50s). My dad actually has two jobs, which is completely bizarre, seeing how he's always gone to work in his starched dry-clean only getup to live the life of the executive mortgage banker, financial guy. But oh yeah, back to that economy thing, I guess it's necessary to get a second job these days? Luckily for MBAs, apparently you don't even need an education degree to get a job in that field. Or maybe that's just the case at schools like Cal Lutheran? Anyway, bravo, papi. Oh, and my mom isn't teaching, but she just got promoted to Assistant Director of the Multicultural/International Programs, there. Brava, mama.
Yawn. So yeah, I have a budding profile on Cal Luthernan's job search whatever thing. I submitted an unbelievable amount of junk, along with a highly tailored profile, my ruthlessly edited resume, bajillions of writing samples, a sample cover letter, and that doesn't take into account the searching I do to find potential matches for things I can pursue on my own. I'm hoping this will be more successful than Career Builder, but there's probably zero chance it could be worse, unless the CEO of a company calls me up personally to tell me I'm a failure at life and then dissolves into maniacal laughter at my expense.
There she be, in all her glory, I just whited out my contact info, just in case I have potential stalkers (hello, stalkers!).Other stuff...the horse thing is going. Not necessarily "well," but going. There was a bit of a mishap at my last show, where I opted to scratch half my classes on the last day, because the horse's photosensitivity got the best of him so he wouldn't/couldn't stop shaking his head. I get extremely frustrated by it, but there's not much that can be done but put the horse away, give him a pat, and wait and hope that the next time we show it goes better. And by "better," I mean that he doesn't shake his head so violently that I feel like I'm the passenger in a bumper car, getting shook about on his back. Rahhhh. In any case, I'm pretty sure Cappuccino (horse) will be leaving the barn, soon, anyway, so he can get sold. I'll definitely miss him, it's been a fun partnership. Can't exactly afford a horse right now, though, it's also pretty impractical, seeing how I'll be (hopefully) going to law school and working at the same time, in the next few years. I just wanna have my cake and eat it too, I guess, and do it all. For now, that will have to go on hold until I become wildly successful...or a trophy wife. I have lofty ambitions and my other goal right now is to find my personal sugar daddy who will buy me a summer home and more horses than I can count on one hand. ;-)
Another thing I'm working on is writing a short story and submitting it to an online forum. Apparently there are ways to get compensation if a recruiter sees something they like, so that would be amazing if that happened. I've never written fiction, though, so it's a bit of a hurdle for me. It isn't proving too much of a challenge yet, though, since I am always writing something or another and I write ridiculously thorough outlines. So, I'm hoping this will be more than a hobby, but we'll see if it takes off. I befriended one of the other writers on this site, so he and I have been chatting a lot and he's been helping me as far as inspiration and editing goes, so hooray for that, too.
OK I think I'm gonna (attempt to) hit it, again. Wish me luck.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Life
Every so often I remind myself that I was in Spain this time, last year. I remember the whole thing being totally surreal. How? I started at my bilingual middle school with the help of Carlos, my bilingual coordinator and supervisor with his hybrid Spanish-British accent. Then there was the odd factor of being openly stared at in the street like I was from another planet, to my agreement that yeah, SoCal and a small, Southern town in Spain are on different planets.
Now everything is back to normal, but it's like I don't know what normal is supposed to be after spending four years in college, a year in Spain, and now back to a place where I have spent very little time -- Simi Valley. Now there's another difference: the SoCal culture and NY culture are pretty much opposite in a lot of ways. New York is much louder and brash. People don't act like their moods are affected by constant sunshine and like life is a Disney movie, where the biggest problem in the morning is deciding between a Gucci or Versace pair of sunglasses.
Oh, of course there are the Hamptons and the obscenely rich people who own oil companies, just like the left coast. But the people who I associated with weren't usually those people, except for the few I knew who I competed against, riding. Back to the cultural aspect, though -- I usually want to get the *bleep* out of Simi Valley and go back to New York. The problem with me is that I'm never 100% comfortable wherever I land, because nothing is familiar. I haven't lived in the same place for more than 3 years at a time since I left Michigan, when I was 16. Yeah I talk about it a lot, blah blah, but I'm getting used to SoCal, still, so I am going to think about it if not just complain. It's not that I want to complain as much as try to figure this whole thing out and come to terms with living here indefinitely.
I started LSAT prep class. Well, more like I took the diagnostic test and I'm waiting for the real classes to start and get the wake up call that I need to learn to pace myself better in taking the test. I will get hung up on making sure I have done my process of elimination while evaluating which answer best suits the question I'm reading, and getting worried, because sometimes they look like they all could be correct. Actually, it's sometimes obvious that two of the answers were put there to play tricks on you so I just throw those out and concentrate on what does fit.
Truth be told, I am such a huge nerd for reading and writing that the LSAT doesn't faze me as much as it should. I'm a Libra, after all, and we're all about balance, right? Ya damn straight. I get so in the zone when I'm taking the (practice) tests that when I hear someone sneeze I jump. My favorite part of the test are the logic puzzles, because I feel like I'm good at that. The worst part is the long passages, because although I'm a fast reader, I want to be thorough. Being completely nitpicky isn't an option when you have 35 minutes to get through 26 questions while reading the long passages and answering questions. Kind of weird, because when I used to take scantron tests in high school I remember always being one of the first people done. But the stakes are way higher this time, it's not like if I bomb the test about WWI that I'll get a chance to up my overall grade on the next test.
A lot of people have been asking me "seriously? Law school?" and I just say yeah, I'm interested in pursuing it. I remember my insanely demanding sophomore year at Ithaca, and how I was assigned to write two 25+ page essays, I had a job, I wrote for the paper, and oh yeah, I was living with a sociopathic roommate, all at the same time. I managed to keep my sh*t together the first semester, but I just snapped like a twig the second. "Twig" makes it sound like it wasn't too bad. Let's say I started sending sparks in every possible direction, like a toaster dropped in the bathtub. Point? I feel I've matured a lot since then and managed keeping my anxiety in check, more. Clearly the (lack of) sleep exacerbates my ability to work efficiently, but I'm working on it s'more.
One thing that has made me anxious is the job situation. I've found that the employers who are interested are now telling me (NOW TELLING. ME.) that they can't get a hold of the American contact to affirm that I worked in Spain. Well, sh*t. That makes it seem fishy, obviously, and it feels like a year of work was wasted. In any case, I've been told to provide new contacts, so I put down one of my riding trainers and my mom's last boss who went with me to El Salvador last year. Let's hope this will catapult me into the right direction, because I'm stuck otherwise. I mean, I worked at a newspaper and in Spain, I speak nearly fluent Spanish and Italian, I did other grunt work, and shouldn't that be enough for some entry level job of some sort? But of course just going to undergrad means nothing these days unless you want to be chief fry cook at your local In N Out, I guess, especially in this economy. Moan, groan, vomit.
OK I think it's time to sleep. ¡Buenas Noches!
Now everything is back to normal, but it's like I don't know what normal is supposed to be after spending four years in college, a year in Spain, and now back to a place where I have spent very little time -- Simi Valley. Now there's another difference: the SoCal culture and NY culture are pretty much opposite in a lot of ways. New York is much louder and brash. People don't act like their moods are affected by constant sunshine and like life is a Disney movie, where the biggest problem in the morning is deciding between a Gucci or Versace pair of sunglasses.
Oh, of course there are the Hamptons and the obscenely rich people who own oil companies, just like the left coast. But the people who I associated with weren't usually those people, except for the few I knew who I competed against, riding. Back to the cultural aspect, though -- I usually want to get the *bleep* out of Simi Valley and go back to New York. The problem with me is that I'm never 100% comfortable wherever I land, because nothing is familiar. I haven't lived in the same place for more than 3 years at a time since I left Michigan, when I was 16. Yeah I talk about it a lot, blah blah, but I'm getting used to SoCal, still, so I am going to think about it if not just complain. It's not that I want to complain as much as try to figure this whole thing out and come to terms with living here indefinitely.
I started LSAT prep class. Well, more like I took the diagnostic test and I'm waiting for the real classes to start and get the wake up call that I need to learn to pace myself better in taking the test. I will get hung up on making sure I have done my process of elimination while evaluating which answer best suits the question I'm reading, and getting worried, because sometimes they look like they all could be correct. Actually, it's sometimes obvious that two of the answers were put there to play tricks on you so I just throw those out and concentrate on what does fit.
Truth be told, I am such a huge nerd for reading and writing that the LSAT doesn't faze me as much as it should. I'm a Libra, after all, and we're all about balance, right? Ya damn straight. I get so in the zone when I'm taking the (practice) tests that when I hear someone sneeze I jump. My favorite part of the test are the logic puzzles, because I feel like I'm good at that. The worst part is the long passages, because although I'm a fast reader, I want to be thorough. Being completely nitpicky isn't an option when you have 35 minutes to get through 26 questions while reading the long passages and answering questions. Kind of weird, because when I used to take scantron tests in high school I remember always being one of the first people done. But the stakes are way higher this time, it's not like if I bomb the test about WWI that I'll get a chance to up my overall grade on the next test.
A lot of people have been asking me "seriously? Law school?" and I just say yeah, I'm interested in pursuing it. I remember my insanely demanding sophomore year at Ithaca, and how I was assigned to write two 25+ page essays, I had a job, I wrote for the paper, and oh yeah, I was living with a sociopathic roommate, all at the same time. I managed to keep my sh*t together the first semester, but I just snapped like a twig the second. "Twig" makes it sound like it wasn't too bad. Let's say I started sending sparks in every possible direction, like a toaster dropped in the bathtub. Point? I feel I've matured a lot since then and managed keeping my anxiety in check, more. Clearly the (lack of) sleep exacerbates my ability to work efficiently, but I'm working on it s'more.
One thing that has made me anxious is the job situation. I've found that the employers who are interested are now telling me (NOW TELLING. ME.) that they can't get a hold of the American contact to affirm that I worked in Spain. Well, sh*t. That makes it seem fishy, obviously, and it feels like a year of work was wasted. In any case, I've been told to provide new contacts, so I put down one of my riding trainers and my mom's last boss who went with me to El Salvador last year. Let's hope this will catapult me into the right direction, because I'm stuck otherwise. I mean, I worked at a newspaper and in Spain, I speak nearly fluent Spanish and Italian, I did other grunt work, and shouldn't that be enough for some entry level job of some sort? But of course just going to undergrad means nothing these days unless you want to be chief fry cook at your local In N Out, I guess, especially in this economy. Moan, groan, vomit.
OK I think it's time to sleep. ¡Buenas Noches!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Trying to get back in the swing of things
It has been a long 3 months back at home, and definitely an adjustment. In some ways, it's like I never left home, but it also feels like if that were the case, that a chunk of my life was spent in some sort of weird time warp abroad. I really miss being in Spain and I wish I could be back there, but I made the decision that it wasn't entirely practical for my long term goals to go back. Also, I made crap money -- really good money for the amount of work I was doing, but still crap. What I really wanted to do was work the normal teacher hour-load every week, but my guess is that the Spanish government didn't want to blow millions of euros paying the foreigners to work for them. That decision seems a bit odd, to me, seeing how we were pouring our money right back into their economy, but I still see what they're saying.
It has been extremely difficult trying to get back into the work scene and really disheartening. I don't want to go back to some stupid retail job, but c'est la vie. I've heard of a lot of people going on to masters degrees who wait tables to get by, and honestly, I would need a job with hour flexibility in order to do that, anyway, so I just need to be realistic about it. But it still sucks, especially when I see the girls at the barn who can do any show they want and have unlimited disposable incomes/or trust funds + the like to get by. Then I remember how the horse riding world is so completely separate from the reality of normal people and I should just shut up and be grateful. My family is in the upper middle class, anyway, but sometimes I feel like we're living in a cardboard box compared to some of the other families at the barn. Yes, I have become a crusty cynic. Ship me back to New York, please.
This week has been pretty busy, though. I've continued my quest in getting a job, and I'm thinking I need to branch off from the job search engines and look in person. I'm sure that hundreds of people are looking at the same positions as I am, people who are older and more experienced, too, no doubt. The economy blows a big one right now, so any and all writing jobs are few and far in between, and I've always wanted to be involved in something where I get to use creativity, a bit.
The short-term aspect of my life has been getting to me. That whole "a rolling stone gathers no moss" phrase rings true to me, because I've been flitting here and there for so long that I don't feel tied down to anything and I always frantically search for a new environment, because that's what I've been used to since I moved from Iowa to Michigan, ten years ago. Three years later, we moved to Long Island, then two years after that I started at Michigan State and transferred to Ithaca after one semester. My parents had already relocated to SoCal at that point, so that was another adjustment. Once I got to Ithaca, I left to study abroad in Florence the spring semester of my junior year, but I had to come home after two months due to health reasons, which blew my life into shreds for a few months. Then once I got back to school, senior year, I was preparing for the "real world" right away. Real world = Spain. So, I'm not exaggerating when I say I've been moving around like a psycho for almost as long as I can remember, and it has definitely taken a lot of energy and determination to get to meet people and stake some sort of claim in place I decided to live at that moment. Luckily for me, I'm really independent, but it takes a toll on me when I can't make long term commitments or relationships, since the human experience includes that. I guess I've felt like an outsider ever since I was 13 and we moved to Michigan, and I've never gotten past that isolated feeling so I just move around, but who knows.
Riding has kept me busy since I've been back. I've been riding a little 6 year-old horse named Cappuccino, and it has been an awesome experience. I've made stride (hardy har) in getting back into riding shape and being a team, again. Fortunately for me, I've lucked into having a completely awesome horse who is eager to please and forgiving when I eff up, which was a lot, at the beginning. Now when I look back, I'm surprised my trainer allowed me to lease him! But w/e, I did a LOT of work with Vicky, last year, that I guess it makes sense.
The first time I sat on Vicky, I thought she was a psycho, and I hated the pelham bit with the converter on it that they put on her, which she just ran away from, anyway. She also had pitiful turn out -- her mane was too long and on the wrong side, her whiskers were long, her coat was dull, everything was just a mess. She and I didn't form an immediate bond, but I was persistent in getting her to soften up a bit, which isn't easy for a nutso thoroughbred mare. We switched to a snaffle bit, which might as well have been a wet fish in her mouth, and then I put a happy mouth 2-ring elevator on her and a figure-eight bridle which I thought worked really well. She didn't run away from that bit, so I barely had to touch her mouth anymore. She had strange ways of behaving, sometimes, like hating walking and wanting to trot everywhere. She also spooked at almost anything, including flower boxes she had seen 50 times. On the other hand, I remember her stopping at jumps very rarely, and usually because she spooked or because she didn't see the jump, or because it was too high for her (I thought she might be able to jump past 3'3", but I was way wrong...). In the end, it was a really fun pair up for me, even though it wasn't without its problems, but what riding pair isn't. I have a really bold eye, so it was fun to have the horse version of myself underneath me. She was a bit too small for me, though, given her light frame and dainty bone structure.
Cappuccino has been fun and a different challenge for me. It's hard to me to keep an even, hunter pace and literally go with the flow. Everybody thinks jumpers is harder because of the intricate courses and tight turns, and maybe it is, but it's also challenging to keep an even rhythm and make everything look effortless when, in fact, it's not. Some of Cap's odd behaviors include looking out of the ring when he's not focused, swapping from right to left leads (because he's not strong enough yet), and being a bit difficult to steer. All of those problem have gotten better, though, and they're really not that much of a hindrance, anyway, if I ride like I'm supposed to. The main problem is his photosensitivity, which I had never even heard of before I had ridden him. He tosses his head because he's essentially allergic to the light and it causes him pain. The cause isn't exactly determined and there's no cure, right now. I put his fly mask on every time I ride and a hair net over his nose, which for some reason comforts him and minimizes the headshaking. I also put him on Chinese herbs which supposedly help. Eventually, I want to see if accupressure will help alleviate the problem, since the equine chiropractor has already helped, I think. As for his strengths, he's very willing and he covers for me when I ride like a moron. He is really pretty to watch and he is definitely gorgeous, too, with the bonus of having an awesome coat, mane and tail. I'm working on figuring out if I can afford to buy him, which will be easier to do if I can make payments over time since obviously I don't have thousands of dollars at my disposal, and mommy and daddy aren't willing to fork over the dough for me at this point in my life.
Boots was the last horse I had, when I was 14. I went up to Ontario with my mom and Cathy, my trainer, and tried 5 or 6 horses before we found Boots. He was a beautiful Belgian Warmblood/Thoroughbred cross, and I was extremely intimidated by him. He had a bit of an aggressive personality and he didn't like anybody, it seemed, but his owner/rider, who was also the trainer at the barn. The first time I got on him, it was a shock to be on a grey horse at first, and then it was odd that when we trotted our first vertical he didn't even know what to do, because clearly all he had ever done was gun it at big 3'6" or 4' jumper courses. When he came to Michigan, though, we made him a hunter because he had absolutely beautiful movement and he pointed his toes really nicely. He eventually came to like me, even though the first few weeks were extremely difficult. He would rear if my back was anything but completely vertical, apparently because he didn't want any weight on his forehand. He also would bolt, occasionally, especially when we would ride in our grass field. The first show we took him to, Cathy rode him in the second year green classes, and he was an absolute nightmare at the in and out gates. He wouldn't want to go in the ring and he would throw a fit before going in. Cathy decided to use a dressage whip on him during schooling and drop it before going into the ring. After a course, we would quickly reward him with peppermints, since he always did well when he actually was IN the ring. He also started to bond with me, Cathy and my mom, but that was about it as far as the horse-human relationships went. Little kids were always in awe of him and wanting to come pet him, which I warned them wasn't going to work well, and true to form, he would charge them with his ears back and nostrils flared. One of the dads of a girl I rode with jokingly said "you think you're so tough, eh?" and he bit his upper arm so badly that his arm had a softball-sized bruise, but I didn't feel guilty at all, since it was well known that Boots was aggressive with people other than the three of us. That year, Cathy was champion of the second year greens and I was sixth place in the 15-17 large juniors, so I was really proud at how far we had come. I definitely miss him a lot, and I'm sad that we had to end our partnership when he got a calcified front right coffin bone which made him utterly useless in the show ring and incapable of riding on his right side.
Anyway, I just miss owning my own horse, so I'm hoping it will work out with Cappuccino, but who knows. Maybe someday I'll be a lawyer or a stay at home trophy wife and I'll be able to ride until my heart's content and fill half the barn with my mounts, but until then, I suffer. I suffer in silence. And yet I never complain! (joke :-P).
The main priority in life is to find a job, get accepted into a good law school, and ride (I'm looking at the Dispute Resolution program at Pepperdine, which is actually the program BEFORE you can get a law degree). Booyah. Wish me luck.
It has been extremely difficult trying to get back into the work scene and really disheartening. I don't want to go back to some stupid retail job, but c'est la vie. I've heard of a lot of people going on to masters degrees who wait tables to get by, and honestly, I would need a job with hour flexibility in order to do that, anyway, so I just need to be realistic about it. But it still sucks, especially when I see the girls at the barn who can do any show they want and have unlimited disposable incomes/or trust funds + the like to get by. Then I remember how the horse riding world is so completely separate from the reality of normal people and I should just shut up and be grateful. My family is in the upper middle class, anyway, but sometimes I feel like we're living in a cardboard box compared to some of the other families at the barn. Yes, I have become a crusty cynic. Ship me back to New York, please.
This week has been pretty busy, though. I've continued my quest in getting a job, and I'm thinking I need to branch off from the job search engines and look in person. I'm sure that hundreds of people are looking at the same positions as I am, people who are older and more experienced, too, no doubt. The economy blows a big one right now, so any and all writing jobs are few and far in between, and I've always wanted to be involved in something where I get to use creativity, a bit.
The short-term aspect of my life has been getting to me. That whole "a rolling stone gathers no moss" phrase rings true to me, because I've been flitting here and there for so long that I don't feel tied down to anything and I always frantically search for a new environment, because that's what I've been used to since I moved from Iowa to Michigan, ten years ago. Three years later, we moved to Long Island, then two years after that I started at Michigan State and transferred to Ithaca after one semester. My parents had already relocated to SoCal at that point, so that was another adjustment. Once I got to Ithaca, I left to study abroad in Florence the spring semester of my junior year, but I had to come home after two months due to health reasons, which blew my life into shreds for a few months. Then once I got back to school, senior year, I was preparing for the "real world" right away. Real world = Spain. So, I'm not exaggerating when I say I've been moving around like a psycho for almost as long as I can remember, and it has definitely taken a lot of energy and determination to get to meet people and stake some sort of claim in place I decided to live at that moment. Luckily for me, I'm really independent, but it takes a toll on me when I can't make long term commitments or relationships, since the human experience includes that. I guess I've felt like an outsider ever since I was 13 and we moved to Michigan, and I've never gotten past that isolated feeling so I just move around, but who knows.
Riding has kept me busy since I've been back. I've been riding a little 6 year-old horse named Cappuccino, and it has been an awesome experience. I've made stride (hardy har) in getting back into riding shape and being a team, again. Fortunately for me, I've lucked into having a completely awesome horse who is eager to please and forgiving when I eff up, which was a lot, at the beginning. Now when I look back, I'm surprised my trainer allowed me to lease him! But w/e, I did a LOT of work with Vicky, last year, that I guess it makes sense.
The first time I sat on Vicky, I thought she was a psycho, and I hated the pelham bit with the converter on it that they put on her, which she just ran away from, anyway. She also had pitiful turn out -- her mane was too long and on the wrong side, her whiskers were long, her coat was dull, everything was just a mess. She and I didn't form an immediate bond, but I was persistent in getting her to soften up a bit, which isn't easy for a nutso thoroughbred mare. We switched to a snaffle bit, which might as well have been a wet fish in her mouth, and then I put a happy mouth 2-ring elevator on her and a figure-eight bridle which I thought worked really well. She didn't run away from that bit, so I barely had to touch her mouth anymore. She had strange ways of behaving, sometimes, like hating walking and wanting to trot everywhere. She also spooked at almost anything, including flower boxes she had seen 50 times. On the other hand, I remember her stopping at jumps very rarely, and usually because she spooked or because she didn't see the jump, or because it was too high for her (I thought she might be able to jump past 3'3", but I was way wrong...). In the end, it was a really fun pair up for me, even though it wasn't without its problems, but what riding pair isn't. I have a really bold eye, so it was fun to have the horse version of myself underneath me. She was a bit too small for me, though, given her light frame and dainty bone structure.
Cappuccino has been fun and a different challenge for me. It's hard to me to keep an even, hunter pace and literally go with the flow. Everybody thinks jumpers is harder because of the intricate courses and tight turns, and maybe it is, but it's also challenging to keep an even rhythm and make everything look effortless when, in fact, it's not. Some of Cap's odd behaviors include looking out of the ring when he's not focused, swapping from right to left leads (because he's not strong enough yet), and being a bit difficult to steer. All of those problem have gotten better, though, and they're really not that much of a hindrance, anyway, if I ride like I'm supposed to. The main problem is his photosensitivity, which I had never even heard of before I had ridden him. He tosses his head because he's essentially allergic to the light and it causes him pain. The cause isn't exactly determined and there's no cure, right now. I put his fly mask on every time I ride and a hair net over his nose, which for some reason comforts him and minimizes the headshaking. I also put him on Chinese herbs which supposedly help. Eventually, I want to see if accupressure will help alleviate the problem, since the equine chiropractor has already helped, I think. As for his strengths, he's very willing and he covers for me when I ride like a moron. He is really pretty to watch and he is definitely gorgeous, too, with the bonus of having an awesome coat, mane and tail. I'm working on figuring out if I can afford to buy him, which will be easier to do if I can make payments over time since obviously I don't have thousands of dollars at my disposal, and mommy and daddy aren't willing to fork over the dough for me at this point in my life.
Boots was the last horse I had, when I was 14. I went up to Ontario with my mom and Cathy, my trainer, and tried 5 or 6 horses before we found Boots. He was a beautiful Belgian Warmblood/Thoroughbred cross, and I was extremely intimidated by him. He had a bit of an aggressive personality and he didn't like anybody, it seemed, but his owner/rider, who was also the trainer at the barn. The first time I got on him, it was a shock to be on a grey horse at first, and then it was odd that when we trotted our first vertical he didn't even know what to do, because clearly all he had ever done was gun it at big 3'6" or 4' jumper courses. When he came to Michigan, though, we made him a hunter because he had absolutely beautiful movement and he pointed his toes really nicely. He eventually came to like me, even though the first few weeks were extremely difficult. He would rear if my back was anything but completely vertical, apparently because he didn't want any weight on his forehand. He also would bolt, occasionally, especially when we would ride in our grass field. The first show we took him to, Cathy rode him in the second year green classes, and he was an absolute nightmare at the in and out gates. He wouldn't want to go in the ring and he would throw a fit before going in. Cathy decided to use a dressage whip on him during schooling and drop it before going into the ring. After a course, we would quickly reward him with peppermints, since he always did well when he actually was IN the ring. He also started to bond with me, Cathy and my mom, but that was about it as far as the horse-human relationships went. Little kids were always in awe of him and wanting to come pet him, which I warned them wasn't going to work well, and true to form, he would charge them with his ears back and nostrils flared. One of the dads of a girl I rode with jokingly said "you think you're so tough, eh?" and he bit his upper arm so badly that his arm had a softball-sized bruise, but I didn't feel guilty at all, since it was well known that Boots was aggressive with people other than the three of us. That year, Cathy was champion of the second year greens and I was sixth place in the 15-17 large juniors, so I was really proud at how far we had come. I definitely miss him a lot, and I'm sad that we had to end our partnership when he got a calcified front right coffin bone which made him utterly useless in the show ring and incapable of riding on his right side.
Anyway, I just miss owning my own horse, so I'm hoping it will work out with Cappuccino, but who knows. Maybe someday I'll be a lawyer or a stay at home trophy wife and I'll be able to ride until my heart's content and fill half the barn with my mounts, but until then, I suffer. I suffer in silence. And yet I never complain! (joke :-P).
The main priority in life is to find a job, get accepted into a good law school, and ride (I'm looking at the Dispute Resolution program at Pepperdine, which is actually the program BEFORE you can get a law degree). Booyah. Wish me luck.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Life these days
Feeling the need to write in here again, mostly because I don't have a reporter job at the moment, so I'm feeling unfulfilled. Ah, yes, unfulfilled by the insane amount of research and interviewing/transcribing tapes/taking hours to write a simple 500-word article...all for an absurdly, laughably low slave wage. My fellow Journalism major/communications people know what I'm sayin'. In particular, there's not much respect for young writers -- not from sources and not from coworkers. Apparently we're too young and inexperienced to know anything about life or have any ability. It's depressing. And right now I can't even work at The Acorn, the paper where I interned two summers in a row and then had a freelance job for one year. The economy sucks and it KILLS me that I can't do my thankless and yet, paradoxically, rewarding job. I know that I'm good at what I do, too (yes I am tooting my own horn), so it just kills me.
One of the trainers at the barn where I ride mentioned that I should ghost write a book he wants to publish, but I'm not really sure how serious he was. I should probably encourage/push him to start so I can have something to do with my time until I get a real job. Also, he wants to write a biography, which is right up my alley. I've done a bazillion personality profile articles, so this would be a fun challenge. It's difficult to write about a source that you haven't had the chance to meet, but I've even done THAT before. So, my plan is to see if I can get that ball rolling in the near future.
I'm already in a tremendous amount of debt with the parents because I've been freeloading by riding again, starting since I've been back from Spain. What I'd really like to do is just buy my own horse, but obviously that's unrealistic when I'm unemployed and living off daddy's dime (AND mommy's -- she got a new/better job!). Now I am so much more aware of how much everything costs than I was as a junior when it was all just left to the trainer to tell my mom how much a new saddle or a new horse blanket and show entries/hauling/braiding/etc would cost. And the costs are higher in California than they were in Michigan, but equal with what it cost me to ride in New York. Actually, I find that you get much better bang for your buck at the barn where I ride in California than where I rode in Ithaca. Also, it's nice to have a training staff that is more courteous and doesn't have the "oh, Meg, you ride better when you're pissed off at me!" mentality. Sheesh, that drove me nuts. I still find myself pursing my lips and getting highly irritated when I think about it, and how I rarely would say "you're being a jerk and I'm not going to stand for you treating me like a bratty 13 year old." #$)t^*$#%*$# I know, I know, I should just let it go...but I feel like venting. It's my own effin' blog, after all.
What else? Well, I miss my east coast friends horribly. I miss cynicism. I miss hanging out with my own age group and laughing til my face goes numb. Somehow I'll be able to find a new social network, I know, but it's difficult when you're unemployed and not in school.
Which leads me to yet another topic. I am applying to LAW school. That's right. A lot of people are saying "but why? I never heard you mention law before," and to that, I say that no, I've always maintained an interest. I love crime dramas and literature...NOT that I'd go into criminal law, but the whole process fascinates me. Something along the lines of corporate law would appeal to me -- something where I can do what I love, anything that includes doing a lot of research and presenting the results (and HELLO, that's what a journalist does). Yes, I was that dorky kid who looked forward to oral presentations and was meticulous about essays in high school. I was also in the drama club and choir to complete the trifecta of dorkery.
OK, I'm wiped out. I've been awake since 6 a.m. for traffic school after a whopping 3.5 hours of sleep. Yes, I am an insomniac and no, I can't make it through a day without a nap, because I get a "second wind" at night where I can stay up literally all night even on very little sleep from the night before. People give me a lotta flack for being a lazy mofo for my effed up sleep habits (well, that's partially true), but the Ambien I have prescribed to me would beg to differ with those assertions. Sidenote: when I take Ambien and I still can't fall asleep and I decide to do stuff, I behave like I'm intoxicated and sometimes I don't remember what I did the night before until I rack my brain...creepy. I would suggest not taking sleeping pills if possible.
And with that, I will pick up my book and then pop an Ambien and head off to dream land. Buenas noches.
One of the trainers at the barn where I ride mentioned that I should ghost write a book he wants to publish, but I'm not really sure how serious he was. I should probably encourage/push him to start so I can have something to do with my time until I get a real job. Also, he wants to write a biography, which is right up my alley. I've done a bazillion personality profile articles, so this would be a fun challenge. It's difficult to write about a source that you haven't had the chance to meet, but I've even done THAT before. So, my plan is to see if I can get that ball rolling in the near future.
I'm already in a tremendous amount of debt with the parents because I've been freeloading by riding again, starting since I've been back from Spain. What I'd really like to do is just buy my own horse, but obviously that's unrealistic when I'm unemployed and living off daddy's dime (AND mommy's -- she got a new/better job!). Now I am so much more aware of how much everything costs than I was as a junior when it was all just left to the trainer to tell my mom how much a new saddle or a new horse blanket and show entries/hauling/braiding/etc would cost. And the costs are higher in California than they were in Michigan, but equal with what it cost me to ride in New York. Actually, I find that you get much better bang for your buck at the barn where I ride in California than where I rode in Ithaca. Also, it's nice to have a training staff that is more courteous and doesn't have the "oh, Meg, you ride better when you're pissed off at me!" mentality. Sheesh, that drove me nuts. I still find myself pursing my lips and getting highly irritated when I think about it, and how I rarely would say "you're being a jerk and I'm not going to stand for you treating me like a bratty 13 year old." #$)t^*$#%*$# I know, I know, I should just let it go...but I feel like venting. It's my own effin' blog, after all.
What else? Well, I miss my east coast friends horribly. I miss cynicism. I miss hanging out with my own age group and laughing til my face goes numb. Somehow I'll be able to find a new social network, I know, but it's difficult when you're unemployed and not in school.
Which leads me to yet another topic. I am applying to LAW school. That's right. A lot of people are saying "but why? I never heard you mention law before," and to that, I say that no, I've always maintained an interest. I love crime dramas and literature...NOT that I'd go into criminal law, but the whole process fascinates me. Something along the lines of corporate law would appeal to me -- something where I can do what I love, anything that includes doing a lot of research and presenting the results (and HELLO, that's what a journalist does). Yes, I was that dorky kid who looked forward to oral presentations and was meticulous about essays in high school. I was also in the drama club and choir to complete the trifecta of dorkery.
OK, I'm wiped out. I've been awake since 6 a.m. for traffic school after a whopping 3.5 hours of sleep. Yes, I am an insomniac and no, I can't make it through a day without a nap, because I get a "second wind" at night where I can stay up literally all night even on very little sleep from the night before. People give me a lotta flack for being a lazy mofo for my effed up sleep habits (well, that's partially true), but the Ambien I have prescribed to me would beg to differ with those assertions. Sidenote: when I take Ambien and I still can't fall asleep and I decide to do stuff, I behave like I'm intoxicated and sometimes I don't remember what I did the night before until I rack my brain...creepy. I would suggest not taking sleeping pills if possible.
And with that, I will pick up my book and then pop an Ambien and head off to dream land. Buenas noches.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
My eyes and ears are offended
Last night, I was willing to put my skepticism aside to watch Katie Holmes do Judy Garland's classic "Get Happy" routine for the 100th episode of "So You Think You Can Dance." After all, I knew KH as nothing other than Tom Cruise's beardwife who used to be on "Dawson's Creek."
For those unfamiliar with it, "Get Happy" is from the 1950 film, Summer Stock.
From all the hype leading up to KH's appearance on the show, you'd think she was legend-worthy, like Judy. Supposedly, she trained for months to be in the routine. Also, it was implied that she would perform live, and why wouldn't she, when SYTYCD is based on live dance?
What happened was a tape was played with KH in a white retro blazer and skirt, going into a studio. At this point, I thought maybe it was just an intro to her live performance, but nope, the tape just kept playing, to reveal a routine on par with Britney Spears' "Gimme More"' routine at MTV's video music awards in 2007. I should give more credit to BS, though, cuz at least she performed live, despite looking a mess and possibly drugged. Another comparison: they both lip-synched -- that's to be expected in a recording, but I was still so disappointed that it wasn't LIVE.
I will say that KH is looking pretty great, especially given the fact that she's always in her husband's shadow and praising Xenu or thethans or whatever they are. But her singing was horrendous, not to mention autotuned, and her dancing was nonexistent. I mean, utterly pathetic. If she did anything remotely dance related, let me know, because it looks like nothing more than some flashy poses and getting raised over the heads of the back up dancers. I'm curious what those months of training consisted of, exactly...
Ugh, I have nothing else to say, just watch this ridiculous tripe, already:
Let's see a side-by-side comparison, shall we?
Original version....
Granted, there wasn't much to the dancing in the original version (back up dancers aside), which makes me wonder why they even picked this particular routine, to begin with, if the goal was 1) promoting a dancing scholarship foundation, or 2) to air on a DANCE competition. Even so, Judy Garland clearly has rhythm and training. She had been dancing and singing since she was a little kid, though, it just wasn't as prominent in this song. If they wanted a flashy Judy dancing number, they should've pulled something she did with Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. As for the singing - comparing KH and Judy's singing is a joke, so I won't even go there. Points go to KH for flashing her undies, I guess, and for having better legs. That's about all I got. But that smug smile at the end makes me want to punch her in the teeth.
Here's some clips of real dancing from Judy:
With Gene Kelly in For Me and My Gal
Meet Me in St. Louis
With Fred Astaire in Easter Parade
With Gene Kelly, again, in Summer Stock (wait until 1:45 for the impressive stuff -- and yes, Judy was way heavier at this point of filming since she was on some major uppers and downers all the time)
In A Star is Born
Also, listen to 12 year old Judy, it's simply incredible --
For those unfamiliar with it, "Get Happy" is from the 1950 film, Summer Stock.
From all the hype leading up to KH's appearance on the show, you'd think she was legend-worthy, like Judy. Supposedly, she trained for months to be in the routine. Also, it was implied that she would perform live, and why wouldn't she, when SYTYCD is based on live dance?
What happened was a tape was played with KH in a white retro blazer and skirt, going into a studio. At this point, I thought maybe it was just an intro to her live performance, but nope, the tape just kept playing, to reveal a routine on par with Britney Spears' "Gimme More"' routine at MTV's video music awards in 2007. I should give more credit to BS, though, cuz at least she performed live, despite looking a mess and possibly drugged. Another comparison: they both lip-synched -- that's to be expected in a recording, but I was still so disappointed that it wasn't LIVE.
I will say that KH is looking pretty great, especially given the fact that she's always in her husband's shadow and praising Xenu or thethans or whatever they are. But her singing was horrendous, not to mention autotuned, and her dancing was nonexistent. I mean, utterly pathetic. If she did anything remotely dance related, let me know, because it looks like nothing more than some flashy poses and getting raised over the heads of the back up dancers. I'm curious what those months of training consisted of, exactly...
Ugh, I have nothing else to say, just watch this ridiculous tripe, already:
Let's see a side-by-side comparison, shall we?
Original version....
Granted, there wasn't much to the dancing in the original version (back up dancers aside), which makes me wonder why they even picked this particular routine, to begin with, if the goal was 1) promoting a dancing scholarship foundation, or 2) to air on a DANCE competition. Even so, Judy Garland clearly has rhythm and training. She had been dancing and singing since she was a little kid, though, it just wasn't as prominent in this song. If they wanted a flashy Judy dancing number, they should've pulled something she did with Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. As for the singing - comparing KH and Judy's singing is a joke, so I won't even go there. Points go to KH for flashing her undies, I guess, and for having better legs. That's about all I got. But that smug smile at the end makes me want to punch her in the teeth.
Here's some clips of real dancing from Judy:
With Gene Kelly in For Me and My Gal
Meet Me in St. Louis
With Fred Astaire in Easter Parade
With Gene Kelly, again, in Summer Stock (wait until 1:45 for the impressive stuff -- and yes, Judy was way heavier at this point of filming since she was on some major uppers and downers all the time)
In A Star is Born
Also, listen to 12 year old Judy, it's simply incredible --
Friday, July 3, 2009
home again, home again
Now that I'm back on US turf, I'll morph my expat blog into my...patriated blog.
I'm itching to travel again, too. I was thinking "hmmm, I still haven't gone to Mexico and Tijuana is only a few hours away..." Must stop. Must prioritize.
Right now, now that I'm back from my trip to Iowa, I'm really cracking down on finding a job. Today I did probably 15 applications, and let me tell you, it's a drag. Luckily, my cover letter can be tweaked pretty easily for a variety of jobs. Also, Spanish fluency is a huge asset in Southern California...or so I'm told. I have yet to reap the benefits of it. So far, my only Spanish speaking is at the barn where I ride. Word must've spread that hablo español, because everybody always says "hola" to me. Oh, and I've been watching a telenovela here and there. But now that I'm back in the US, I get all nervous and think my Spanish is crap and clam up. I'm thinking I need to sign up for a Spanish lit course or something along those lines so I don't get out of practice.
Another thing I'm working on is grad school applications. I was reading a NY Times article today about how just having a bachelor's degree these days is the equivalent to just having a high school diploma 20 years ago, and it's true. Talk about depressing: CareerBuilder.com has been sending me emails about my potential job matches, and among them are electrician, bartender and handyman. Yikes. And the newspaper where I interned/reported for 3 years in a row isn't accepting any applications -- they're firing not hiring. Sigh. It's such a Debbie Downer situation -- so I am going to focus on getting grad school app's out in the meantime so I can get a better job in the future.
Another problem: I have no clue what I want to study. Lately, the thought of law school seems highly appealing, possibly because I'm a Law & Order junkie (not that I would want to do criminal law). I also am in the process of signing up for a paralegal course, too. I figure I might as well do something to give me a bit of a leg up while I work on prepping for law school application. For one, I'd need to do the LSAT, which is semi-horrifying. I absolutely loathe standardized tests, it's the worst. I'm pretty good at those logic questions, though, which is one of the reasons why I am so attracted to law school. I love debate and I can be highly convincing and I like to lead other people....right now I'm just trying to decide what I want to do, because sitting at home is rapidly turning my brain into Swiss cheese and I get depressed when I can't be productive.
Other stuff I have in the works is riding again, which has always been what makes me happiest. I've been riding this little 6 year old German warmblood gelding named Cappuccino and he's adorable. Pretty different for me, after riding the ridiculously speedy thoroughbred mare last summer, too. He has the biggest stride probably of any horse I've ever ridden, even though he doesn't feel particularly fast -- he just covers a lot of ground. He is really, really sensitive, though -- I haven't been wearing spurs because he has a big motor without them. He also has a distinctive "launch," as I call it, and I usually get "left behind" (equestrian term), because he jumps before I think he'll leave the ground. He must have a really long neck, or something, because I always see another stride. Then again, that reach he has takes up a whole lot of ground. Either way -- he's really cute. Weird thing: he has been wearing a fly mask when I ride him because apparently he throws his head a lot. I'd like to get some fly spray on his face and see if he'll quit that -- I think it looks pretty weird. Small complaint, though. He's so cute and he seems to like a lot of attention, which is also different from the other horses I've ridden who have either seemed pretty indifferent or downright hostile (although they eventually all warm up to a particular person, this one is just dog-like in his eagerness to make friends). Anyway, the riding has definitely played a role in keeping me sane, here.
That's what's new here. Hopefully better updates in the future.
I'm itching to travel again, too. I was thinking "hmmm, I still haven't gone to Mexico and Tijuana is only a few hours away..." Must stop. Must prioritize.
Right now, now that I'm back from my trip to Iowa, I'm really cracking down on finding a job. Today I did probably 15 applications, and let me tell you, it's a drag. Luckily, my cover letter can be tweaked pretty easily for a variety of jobs. Also, Spanish fluency is a huge asset in Southern California...or so I'm told. I have yet to reap the benefits of it. So far, my only Spanish speaking is at the barn where I ride. Word must've spread that hablo español, because everybody always says "hola" to me. Oh, and I've been watching a telenovela here and there. But now that I'm back in the US, I get all nervous and think my Spanish is crap and clam up. I'm thinking I need to sign up for a Spanish lit course or something along those lines so I don't get out of practice.
Another thing I'm working on is grad school applications. I was reading a NY Times article today about how just having a bachelor's degree these days is the equivalent to just having a high school diploma 20 years ago, and it's true. Talk about depressing: CareerBuilder.com has been sending me emails about my potential job matches, and among them are electrician, bartender and handyman. Yikes. And the newspaper where I interned/reported for 3 years in a row isn't accepting any applications -- they're firing not hiring. Sigh. It's such a Debbie Downer situation -- so I am going to focus on getting grad school app's out in the meantime so I can get a better job in the future.
Another problem: I have no clue what I want to study. Lately, the thought of law school seems highly appealing, possibly because I'm a Law & Order junkie (not that I would want to do criminal law). I also am in the process of signing up for a paralegal course, too. I figure I might as well do something to give me a bit of a leg up while I work on prepping for law school application. For one, I'd need to do the LSAT, which is semi-horrifying. I absolutely loathe standardized tests, it's the worst. I'm pretty good at those logic questions, though, which is one of the reasons why I am so attracted to law school. I love debate and I can be highly convincing and I like to lead other people....right now I'm just trying to decide what I want to do, because sitting at home is rapidly turning my brain into Swiss cheese and I get depressed when I can't be productive.
Other stuff I have in the works is riding again, which has always been what makes me happiest. I've been riding this little 6 year old German warmblood gelding named Cappuccino and he's adorable. Pretty different for me, after riding the ridiculously speedy thoroughbred mare last summer, too. He has the biggest stride probably of any horse I've ever ridden, even though he doesn't feel particularly fast -- he just covers a lot of ground. He is really, really sensitive, though -- I haven't been wearing spurs because he has a big motor without them. He also has a distinctive "launch," as I call it, and I usually get "left behind" (equestrian term), because he jumps before I think he'll leave the ground. He must have a really long neck, or something, because I always see another stride. Then again, that reach he has takes up a whole lot of ground. Either way -- he's really cute. Weird thing: he has been wearing a fly mask when I ride him because apparently he throws his head a lot. I'd like to get some fly spray on his face and see if he'll quit that -- I think it looks pretty weird. Small complaint, though. He's so cute and he seems to like a lot of attention, which is also different from the other horses I've ridden who have either seemed pretty indifferent or downright hostile (although they eventually all warm up to a particular person, this one is just dog-like in his eagerness to make friends). Anyway, the riding has definitely played a role in keeping me sane, here.
That's what's new here. Hopefully better updates in the future.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Información
Next year, if I decide to go back to Spain, I'll be placed in Zamora (Zamora) -- that's in the Castilla y León region, in Zamora city in the Zamora province. I really don't know anything about it, yet, but I have to do some research and decide whether or not I want to go back.Interesting fact ~ the town where I'd be living in is 35 miles away from the Portugal border. Holy @!#)*~.
Also, this place super far away from the province where I lived in Spain, before (425 miles). Which was here --
Thank you, Wikipedia, for the geography lesson.Other than that, I don't got much. All I know is that the dialect would change drastically, and the Spanish in the north of Spain is 8000% clearer than in the south (which is probably true of most countries in the world). The weather would also be significantly different.
Now that I'm out of Spain, the thought of going back seems incredibly appealing, because I miss it, but I really have to weigh the pro's and con's. I'm leaning towards staying in the US, since teaching is NOT what I see myself doing in the long term, also, the pay sucked (and is really bad in general)...and yeah, those are the main reasons. I need to find something more in the direction of what I want to do once I get back to the US and stick with it, unless I decide to forge ahead and live in Spain long term (which would mean I'd need to go to school there and find some other source of income...unlikely). So those are the reasons I'm thinking I wouldn't go to Spain, but right now I'm unemployed and feeling Debbie Downer about it, so the thought of going back to Europe seems awesome.
...Thoughts?
Sunday, June 14, 2009
cositas
I decided to write a little, bulleted list of things I've seen or done since I've been in Spain. Let's empezar....
- Affected a hybrid of an Midwestern American/Southern Spanish Andaluz accent. The Andaluz dialect was a surprise to me, and one that took some getting used to. I still find it hard to understand, sometimes, because of the lack of enunciation. The Andalusian people say that they "eat their words" and talk like they have a potato in their mouths, which I find all too true. Example: they don't say "hasta luego" (which means "see you later"), they say "staluego." "Supermercado" becomes "supermercao" and "Jueves" (Thursday) is "Jueve." "Gracias" is "gracia," and "Granada" (the city, and it also means "pomegranate") is just "Graná." The list goes on and on. It may seem like subtle difference in just looking at that list, but when it's a constant stream of shortened/butchered words, in a conversation, it can be difficult to keep up!
- Swam in the Mediterranean Sea, in Málaga. I'd been to a beach in Europe before, but never to swim, and never to the Mediterranean, before.
- Went to a botellón. Botellón is basically a massive, BYOB party with all sorts of random 20 somethings getting together, outside, to party. And in addition to partying, urinating in public. Personally, I hate it. Then again, who likes to show up sober to observe a raucous sea of drunken idiots? Throw a foreign language into that mix, and you're in for a good time.
- Partied until the sun went up. In college, most of the time the parties were officially capped off at 3, but more likely at 2:30, because people were either too drunk or tired or itching to hook up with somebody and get going. In Spain, people don't even go to the bars until around midnight and then keep the party going until...I don't know...your legs buckle?
- Met a lot of new people - not just because I would've anyway, from moving here, but also on the many trips I have taken outside of Spain. And it's kind of interesting to see how many people you meet while just on a weekend trip. Here's a little list of new people who made a cameo in my life over the past 8 months....
- November - Edinburgh, Scotland trip: Devlyn, Kieran and Lochlan. Interestingly enough, they are all Australian, but they're living/working in Scotland right now. At one point, all of us went to a Thai restaurant, so that would make us an American & Australian group, in Scotland, eating Thai food. That's me, Devlyn and Carole, below. Another interesting note -- Carole is a friend of a friend (that friend is Whitney, one of my best friends since I was little), so I had heard about her since I was 15 but had never met her until right before we left for Spain. We were in the Elephant House, which is a famous coffee joint in Edinburgh -- one of its claims to fame is that supposedly, JK Rowling wrote some of the Harry Potter stuff there. I look homeless sitting next to those girls...
- Met some Brits in Madrid, who have my same job. When I met them in my hostel (which was an odd location for them to be, seeing how they live in Madrid...I forget why they were there), I was at a table with an Aussie, 3 Brits, 1 Scottish guy, and 1 Irish guy. Throw in a Canadian and we'd have the major English speaking countries all represented.
- Met some Americans on our bike tour of Munich and then went out to get pretzels and beer with them
Met some guys on Spring Break -- an American guy and an Aussie guy, and hung out with them for a few days while we were in Austria.
- Met a ridiculous number of people from other countries, in passing, because I just approach them and ask them where they're from and strike conversations that way. In the hostels you meet people from so many different countries, it's insane.
6. Saw Jesus Christ Superstar in Spanish (Jesucristo Superstar).
7. Visited more foreign countries in 8 months than I had ever in my life...I've been in Spain, Scotland, Austria, Germany, Belgium, Ireland and Italy. Before this trip, I had been in the US, Canada, France, Belgium and Italy. I still have more on my must see this, though, but those will have to wait, I suppose.
Speaking of waiting, that's all I got right now. Stay tuned.
7. Visited more foreign countries in 8 months than I had ever in my life...I've been in Spain, Scotland, Austria, Germany, Belgium, Ireland and Italy. Before this trip, I had been in the US, Canada, France, Belgium and Italy. I still have more on my must see this, though, but those will have to wait, I suppose.
Speaking of waiting, that's all I got right now. Stay tuned.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
withdrawal
Apparently I was getting used to my expat lifestyle, seeing how I'm fairly bummed to be back. Then again, I was getting really restless living in my tiny Spanish pueblecito (little town). Since I move every other year, I get incredibly restless without a change of routine. Also, and more importantly, I am BORED without a job, as much as it can be a drag at times to have to work around the clock. I feel so unproductive and lazy. But, as my mom told me, I should just make FINDING a job my job, right now. Bleh.
Anyway, to keep to the theme of el blog, here is a list of the things that are different about my American life versus my days in Spain....
As to the progress of the blog, I'm working on a list of things that I did during my expat life that I had never done before I left the US. I think it's pretty interesting, it'll be cool to have a list to remember all the stuff I did (preview: rockclimbing, skiing, learning the Andaluz dialect, etc.).
Anyway, to keep to the theme of el blog, here is a list of the things that are different about my American life versus my days in Spain....
- Hearing people talk to their animals in English, again. It was always so funny to me to hear people speak to pets in Spanish.
- Also, this may seem like a weird segue, but the same logic (to me) applies to people speaking Spanish to children.
- The streets are absolutely huge in comparison to my pueblo. In most of the barrios in Cabra, you would have to move to the extreme side of the road so a car would be able to pass on the tiny, one-way only road. If I was with a friend, we'd have to walk single file, too.
- No food stores that only sell one specialty -- bread, fruit, fish, meat, etc.
- NO SIESTA! I love acutally SLEEPING a siesta, but the fact that stores and the entire town would go into dead mode for 4 hours a day was the most annoying thing ever, especially because I would want to do errands after my work day ended and I would have to wait.
- Eating times are back to "normal," but they seem so early to me, now! I've grown accustomed to eating lunch between 1:30 - 3:30, which I've been doing, but then my mom will have us eat dinner around 7, and I'm not hungry by then. I'm used to eating between 8:30 - 10, sometimes later.
- CARPET!!!!!!!!!!!!! I so missed "alfombra" and it drove me crazy that I would have to put on slippers or flip flops to walk around my apartment comfortably.
- Stores are open on Sundays! Oh, and I might add that stores close around 2 p.m. on Saturday and don't open again until Monday morning. Them Spanish Catholics really keep the Sabbath day holy by not doing anything, whatsoever, which annoyed the )@*#% out of me. I don't miss that aspect of life.
- I can drive again! I really missed the ability to just hop in my car to get from point A to B. It's so nice that I don't have to look up bus or train schedules anymore. It really got on my nerves, especially when there were glitches.
- I don't have to put a conscious effort into speaking, anymore, which I enjoy, but...
- Soon I'm going to need to sign up for some sort of a Spanish language book club or course, because I'm really scared about my Spanish detiorating little by little, even though my coworkers always reassured me that my español was "estupendo."
- People are soooooo much taller (and fatter, but that's obvious) than the Spaniards. I'm no longer in the 90 percentile of height. The old people, especially, are bite-sized in Spain. Seriously, I'm wondering if there was a serious milk deficiency or something, or maybe it's because the Spanish people smoke like chimneys and drink tons of coffee that stunts the fetus growth?? I noticed, too, that the farther north you get, in Europe, the taller people get. I probably got my height from my Swedish + Belgian relatives, I'm guessing.
As to the progress of the blog, I'm working on a list of things that I did during my expat life that I had never done before I left the US. I think it's pretty interesting, it'll be cool to have a list to remember all the stuff I did (preview: rockclimbing, skiing, learning the Andaluz dialect, etc.).
Monday, June 8, 2009
ya está
And so it ends...not the world, although it is depressing that my time is Spain se acabó.
Actually, my time in Spain ended yesterday, seeing how I've been stuck in the London-Heathrow airport for nearly a solid day. Por Diós...Originally I thought "oh, ok, silver lining -- I get to walk around London." But then I changed my mind, because I was too crestfallen about not being able to get home that day, so I just stayed in the airport. I am getting cabin fever from being in the airport for so long - and yes, I slept here last night. Why? I just thought it would be more fun to buy a new outfit at one of those duty free stores than pay for a hotel stay, especially seeing how I don't have my toiletries (minus deodorant, which I packed seeing how this being-stranded-with-no-luggage situation has happened to me before...I also had the foresight to throw extra clothes in my carry on, for the same reason).
The reason I ended up stranded in London, in the first place, is because UK border control took up my entire layover time yesterday, so I missed my flight to LA. The last flight to LA for yesterday. I started swearing and crying and throwing a pity party of one in front of the dude at the British Airlines customer service desk. The cherry on top of this FML story is this: I had to dish out $200 to get on the flight today, which I was pissed off to have to do. @#)$*@#)%*@&
Whew.
Anyway, SPAIN. I can't believe I'm not going back to Spain for who knows how long, and I probably won't ever live there again, either. After I arrived in Madrid with Claire and we parted ways, I had a mini breakdown, partly out of lack of sleep, hormones, being unemployed now, and leaving Spain, of course. I'm still feeling a bit Debbie Downer -- every time I think about how I can't foresee what's going to happen in the future, I have a renewed bout of anxiety, but what can ya do? I plan on spreading my resume out like a fire hose at every writing position I am qualified for, seeing how the economy sucks a big one and it's going to be really hard for a 23 year old to get A) any sort of writing job, seeing how I have less experience than many, and B) a job where I have a hope at being financially independent, i.e. not living in a cardboard box. RAHHHHH.
OK, depressing stuff aside, let me recount my last few weeks in Spain ---
Lots has happened, actually, seeing how I've neglected my poor little blog. Woops. I went back to Ireland to visit my family there (descendents of my great-great grandma Bridget Moriarity-Parker -- my great grandpa Tom Parker's first cousins are living there, so my closest living Irish relation is my first cousin THREE TIMES REMOVED). That visit was awesome. Most of the time I was joining in the celebration for little 8 year-old Aoibhe's first communion, in Cahersiveen, County Kerry, Ireland. Oh, and I got to jump on one of those enormous trampolines, while in Ireland, which was definitely a fun time.
...May I just interrupt this blog post to state how exhausted I am? I am feeling slightly delirious and I stare off into space as my vision blurs, involuntarily, and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes open. Luckily, blasting Queen music in my headphones makes it less likely that I will fall asleep in the near future. Oh, and caffeine intake. /tangent.
After I got back from Ireland, the reality of my expat life style ending hit, even though the idea didn't really sink in (still hasn't). The girls and I started planning various farewell parties amongst ourselves. Claire and I had the idea that it would be a lot of fun to throw a Dundie party, a la The Office, so we organized that. I got to be the MC, due to my....I don't know? Constant desire to be an attention whore? Ability to recite quotes from The Office, verbatim? My overflowing amounts of wit and charm?? Yes...all three. Anyway, we decided that we would have one serious and one funny award for each of us, and the awards were as follows:
What else? I finally hit up the Spanish discotecas, which I had (believe it or not), never done. One of the reasons why I never went is because I don't know the young crowd in Cabra. I might have said this a billion times, already, but here it is, again: Cabra is loaded with ridiculously old people (here's a mental image for you: people who take an hour to walk the length of a football field). So, it makes it really hard to make friends in my age group. I know several Spanish guys in their 30s, but I feel a bit strange hanging out with guys who have 10+ years on me. I also know a 25 year old guy named Pablo, so he's the one I went out with the most, in Cabra, and his friends.
The other girls went out to the discotecas often enough, but I felt a bit discouraged to do with them, seeing how they went with their Spanish boyfriends and spent a good portion of their time playing tonsil hockey with them instead of interacting with others. I would rather drink toilet water than be around THAT, so...that's one reason I hardly went out, in Cabra. Woops.
I have plenty of pictures of my last few weeks in Cabra, so I'll get around to putting those up here, ASAP. Even though my Euro trip is over, my blog will have a pulse for a bit longer -- never fear, faithful few who read my humble blog!
Gotta go -- gonna board my flight soon, thank God. Eleven hour flight = wooooooooooo!!!
Actually, my time in Spain ended yesterday, seeing how I've been stuck in the London-Heathrow airport for nearly a solid day. Por Diós...Originally I thought "oh, ok, silver lining -- I get to walk around London." But then I changed my mind, because I was too crestfallen about not being able to get home that day, so I just stayed in the airport. I am getting cabin fever from being in the airport for so long - and yes, I slept here last night. Why? I just thought it would be more fun to buy a new outfit at one of those duty free stores than pay for a hotel stay, especially seeing how I don't have my toiletries (minus deodorant, which I packed seeing how this being-stranded-with-no-luggage situation has happened to me before...I also had the foresight to throw extra clothes in my carry on, for the same reason).
The reason I ended up stranded in London, in the first place, is because UK border control took up my entire layover time yesterday, so I missed my flight to LA. The last flight to LA for yesterday. I started swearing and crying and throwing a pity party of one in front of the dude at the British Airlines customer service desk. The cherry on top of this FML story is this: I had to dish out $200 to get on the flight today, which I was pissed off to have to do. @#)$*@#)%*@&
Whew.
Anyway, SPAIN. I can't believe I'm not going back to Spain for who knows how long, and I probably won't ever live there again, either. After I arrived in Madrid with Claire and we parted ways, I had a mini breakdown, partly out of lack of sleep, hormones, being unemployed now, and leaving Spain, of course. I'm still feeling a bit Debbie Downer -- every time I think about how I can't foresee what's going to happen in the future, I have a renewed bout of anxiety, but what can ya do? I plan on spreading my resume out like a fire hose at every writing position I am qualified for, seeing how the economy sucks a big one and it's going to be really hard for a 23 year old to get A) any sort of writing job, seeing how I have less experience than many, and B) a job where I have a hope at being financially independent, i.e. not living in a cardboard box. RAHHHHH.
OK, depressing stuff aside, let me recount my last few weeks in Spain ---
Lots has happened, actually, seeing how I've neglected my poor little blog. Woops. I went back to Ireland to visit my family there (descendents of my great-great grandma Bridget Moriarity-Parker -- my great grandpa Tom Parker's first cousins are living there, so my closest living Irish relation is my first cousin THREE TIMES REMOVED). That visit was awesome. Most of the time I was joining in the celebration for little 8 year-old Aoibhe's first communion, in Cahersiveen, County Kerry, Ireland. Oh, and I got to jump on one of those enormous trampolines, while in Ireland, which was definitely a fun time.
...May I just interrupt this blog post to state how exhausted I am? I am feeling slightly delirious and I stare off into space as my vision blurs, involuntarily, and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes open. Luckily, blasting Queen music in my headphones makes it less likely that I will fall asleep in the near future. Oh, and caffeine intake. /tangent.
After I got back from Ireland, the reality of my expat life style ending hit, even though the idea didn't really sink in (still hasn't). The girls and I started planning various farewell parties amongst ourselves. Claire and I had the idea that it would be a lot of fun to throw a Dundie party, a la The Office, so we organized that. I got to be the MC, due to my....I don't know? Constant desire to be an attention whore? Ability to recite quotes from The Office, verbatim? My overflowing amounts of wit and charm?? Yes...all three. Anyway, we decided that we would have one serious and one funny award for each of us, and the awards were as follows:
- Becca -- A) Most likely to need a new passport due to lack of space for new stamps, B) Most likely to consume massive amounts of pasta and butter
- Claire -- A) Most likely to find the perfect place to jog in any given country, B) Most likely to go to Spain to teach and not to have sex
- Emily -- A) Most likely to have an outstanding fine at Caramelandia B) Most likely to stay out the latest unless she has to clean her apartment for the 15th time that week
- Kim -- A) Most likely to be the only teaching assistant to have a Spanish driver's license, B) Most likely to still be living in Spain in 10 years
- Michelle -- A) Most likely to cook ridiculous amounts of food and share it with everyone else, B) Most likely to bare it all at a nudist beach
- Meg -- A) Most likely to make people to pee their pants laughing, B) Most likely to punch someone in the tooth, again
What else? I finally hit up the Spanish discotecas, which I had (believe it or not), never done. One of the reasons why I never went is because I don't know the young crowd in Cabra. I might have said this a billion times, already, but here it is, again: Cabra is loaded with ridiculously old people (here's a mental image for you: people who take an hour to walk the length of a football field). So, it makes it really hard to make friends in my age group. I know several Spanish guys in their 30s, but I feel a bit strange hanging out with guys who have 10+ years on me. I also know a 25 year old guy named Pablo, so he's the one I went out with the most, in Cabra, and his friends.
The other girls went out to the discotecas often enough, but I felt a bit discouraged to do with them, seeing how they went with their Spanish boyfriends and spent a good portion of their time playing tonsil hockey with them instead of interacting with others. I would rather drink toilet water than be around THAT, so...that's one reason I hardly went out, in Cabra. Woops.
I have plenty of pictures of my last few weeks in Cabra, so I'll get around to putting those up here, ASAP. Even though my Euro trip is over, my blog will have a pulse for a bit longer -- never fear, faithful few who read my humble blog!
Gotta go -- gonna board my flight soon, thank God. Eleven hour flight = wooooooooooo!!!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
getting behind on el blog
Woops to neglecting my documentation of my expatriation, gotta get on that.
First, let's cominciare col viaggio d'Italia. But not now, because I'm a zombie after my late night (actually, morning) that I spent in Málaga last night after getting back from Ireland...which, I'll be covering that trip, too, soon.
My zombie-ness together with my nightly second wind is quite irritating. What's the deal with that?
This week is my last week teaching, which is beyond loco. I'm getting more and more anxious about the closely impending unemployment. I had a phone interview for a teaching position as a Journalism teacher/newspaper/yearbook advisor on Thursday, which I was told I would be a perfect candidate for if I had a valid teaching license. Frown Town. I figured that because I was granted an interview at all after doing an online application and a questionaire in addition to submitting a resume, it didn't matter that I didn't have the teaching license (that question popped up in all the above mentioned things). Sigh. At least it was more interview experience. I'm used to being the interviewer, not the interviewee. And this one was insanely nerveracking, because there were 5 people on a phone conference with me. I go into the zone under pressure and when I'm expected to perform, though, so it wasn't really a big deal. I did the interview while on the train to Málaga, too, so I took comfort in the fact that probably no one had any clue what I was talking about, seeing how few people speak English in Spain. Anyway -- I'm super bummed and plodding on with my employment search.
Tomorrow after school I'll be heading with some of my fellow profesoras to see the Feria in Córdoba and I'm super excited, other than the fact that my feet are still blistery and scabbed over, because apparently that's a sign that I shouldn't ever be wearing open-toed shoes with heels. I hat the fact that my skin's so sensitive. Oh, and the point of that tangent is that I have to dress up for tomorrow and stick the orchid flower I have into my hair. :-)
After that, I'm meeting up with the girls for our "last hurrah," which is insane. Emily is leaving on Friday and is the first to jump the coop, while the rest of us will be sloffing off in the next few weeks. Claire and I will head to Madrid, together, on June 6th and I head off home, again, on the 7th.
OK, hafta get up in 6 hours, gonna hit it. Wena noche.
First, let's cominciare col viaggio d'Italia. But not now, because I'm a zombie after my late night (actually, morning) that I spent in Málaga last night after getting back from Ireland...which, I'll be covering that trip, too, soon.
My zombie-ness together with my nightly second wind is quite irritating. What's the deal with that?
This week is my last week teaching, which is beyond loco. I'm getting more and more anxious about the closely impending unemployment. I had a phone interview for a teaching position as a Journalism teacher/newspaper/yearbook advisor on Thursday, which I was told I would be a perfect candidate for if I had a valid teaching license. Frown Town. I figured that because I was granted an interview at all after doing an online application and a questionaire in addition to submitting a resume, it didn't matter that I didn't have the teaching license (that question popped up in all the above mentioned things). Sigh. At least it was more interview experience. I'm used to being the interviewer, not the interviewee. And this one was insanely nerveracking, because there were 5 people on a phone conference with me. I go into the zone under pressure and when I'm expected to perform, though, so it wasn't really a big deal. I did the interview while on the train to Málaga, too, so I took comfort in the fact that probably no one had any clue what I was talking about, seeing how few people speak English in Spain. Anyway -- I'm super bummed and plodding on with my employment search.
Tomorrow after school I'll be heading with some of my fellow profesoras to see the Feria in Córdoba and I'm super excited, other than the fact that my feet are still blistery and scabbed over, because apparently that's a sign that I shouldn't ever be wearing open-toed shoes with heels. I hat the fact that my skin's so sensitive. Oh, and the point of that tangent is that I have to dress up for tomorrow and stick the orchid flower I have into my hair. :-)
After that, I'm meeting up with the girls for our "last hurrah," which is insane. Emily is leaving on Friday and is the first to jump the coop, while the rest of us will be sloffing off in the next few weeks. Claire and I will head to Madrid, together, on June 6th and I head off home, again, on the 7th.
OK, hafta get up in 6 hours, gonna hit it. Wena noche.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Sun Hangover
Casa del Campo en Llano .... Nuestro día al lado de la piscina
Livin' the life...at the time, anyway. Give it a couple more hours and I would start to see the merit in living life in a Berqa as a way to prevent sun burn when SPF 50+ cannot protect we Albinos. Few things in life are as miserable as being burned. "The guy who invented steam sucks."We had a lot of fun, though, all in all. The time flew by pretty fast. So fast, that none of us really thought "oh, pass me some more sunscreen for that reapplication thing you're supposed to do, yeahhhh." Ah, well. I slathered it on my chest and I'm still in mucho dolor, but what can ya do.
Yesterday, I went to Becca's bf's family's summer pool house in Llanos to spend the morning/afternoon makin' some dogs + kebabs + some brew. Apparently drinking alcohol lowers hydration levels so the skin is more apt to get burned. I have some burns of death all over my chest, even though that's the area I focused on the most, since it has a tendency to crisp off into oblivion. My face escaped sun damage, probably because I was keeping my straw hat over my face while tanning. It's my legs that got it the worst - I didn't bother putting any sunscreen on the thigh region, cuz I said to myself I wasn't gonna take off my bermudas, I just wanted to chill. And then when the temps hit the opposite of chill, I just took those bad boys off and walked around swim suitin' it up and I eventually got in the pool, too.
I also made our hot dogs in a frying pan, inside, because there was no grill, oven, or microwave. I guess if you plan to cook there, you gotta be a stir fry virtuouso.
At the beginning, I was reading and tanning and in the zone while Claire and Emily played ping pong. At one point, Emily whacked the ball at the side of my face and I was not so pleased - luckily my hat blocked the blow, but yikes. I already have been hit with pool objects, in the face, so I don't need one Emergency Room visit for face stitches every decade.
I ended up joining in on pool games when I got tried of the dronings of Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar -- there was some ping pong, pool badminton (didn't work so well, especially without a net)
Which founding father am I? Yeah, the old dude wig didn't work as well on me, I guess.
Jose Carlos' dog Kiki made her maiden voyage out to waters unknown
We tried to hit the ball midair when Claire throwed it to us. Pretty sure ended up winning, cuz Em jumped way too soon!
Claire and JC playing pool badminton before taking it out of the pool
Beach day was all in all a success, minus said burns. I got to cook, I helped clean, I picked out the brew and helped bring it there, I read 100 pages in The Bell Jar, and its Debbie Downer plot contrasted pretty sharply with the environment, which was interesting.
Anyway...Burns. I always, always, always burn. I mean, look at my skin tone -- hardly any melanin at all, right? Back in the day, it was considered much more desirable for women to have white white skin. I guess I would've been revered for my albino-ness in those days. My whitewhitewhiteness doesn't bother me, actually, I just wish I didn't burn so easily.
Other stuff ~ This week I'll be trying to get a video of me teaching to send people for phone interviews, since I can't teach in person for them to see me working. I think it's a good idea in any case, though, because it'll be a way to see how I look in front of the kids and get feedback later about how I could improve. I asked a couple of the English teachers at my school if I can go into their classrooms and get somebody to film me. Doesn't really bother me, either. I am the opposite of camera shy. What does bother me is the anxiety I'm getting for all these interviews, cuz I don't wanna be unemployed for long...it's going to drive me crazy until I decide a) where I'll work b) where I'll live and c) all the other fun stuff that you start to ask yourself once those 2 things are filed away, like social network, will I ride again, will I take my cat out with me when I move, how will it feel to be back in the USA again...Truth be told, I'm super psyched to get back to my own culture. I like being a novelty over here, too, it's just different. And let's face it, I'm a novelty everywhere I go for having lived in so many places. That's something that's going to come up in eeeevvvery interview I do, I'm guessing. Fugitive's gotta have somewhere to live, y'know.
Anyway...Burns. I always, always, always burn. I mean, look at my skin tone -- hardly any melanin at all, right? Back in the day, it was considered much more desirable for women to have white white skin. I guess I would've been revered for my albino-ness in those days. My whitewhitewhiteness doesn't bother me, actually, I just wish I didn't burn so easily.
Other stuff ~ This week I'll be trying to get a video of me teaching to send people for phone interviews, since I can't teach in person for them to see me working. I think it's a good idea in any case, though, because it'll be a way to see how I look in front of the kids and get feedback later about how I could improve. I asked a couple of the English teachers at my school if I can go into their classrooms and get somebody to film me. Doesn't really bother me, either. I am the opposite of camera shy. What does bother me is the anxiety I'm getting for all these interviews, cuz I don't wanna be unemployed for long...it's going to drive me crazy until I decide a) where I'll work b) where I'll live and c) all the other fun stuff that you start to ask yourself once those 2 things are filed away, like social network, will I ride again, will I take my cat out with me when I move, how will it feel to be back in the USA again...Truth be told, I'm super psyched to get back to my own culture. I like being a novelty over here, too, it's just different. And let's face it, I'm a novelty everywhere I go for having lived in so many places. That's something that's going to come up in eeeevvvery interview I do, I'm guessing. Fugitive's gotta have somewhere to live, y'know.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A few observaciones
Does this look appetizing to you? Because to me it looks like things I see on the sidewalk and make me shudder. It looks like an insect to me, but to the Spaniards, it's a delicacy. Nearly all the fancy restaurants here advertise that they serve snails as a selling point, generally with an image like the one above. So disgusting...and I thought that the omnipresent pig leg (with hoof still attached) was disturbing!
Another unrelated thing -- I went to el doctor this afternoon, because the ear problem I've been having for the past week or so hasn't cleared up on its own, which I thought i would. I figured my ear was out of whack after my trip back from Italy, because it kept making obnoxious popping sounds -- more than usual for a flight, but I didn't think anything of it. Then the next day after I got back, the pain in my ear was so sharp I thought it was bleeding internally and I didn't go to school the next day. Then the pain went away, but the feeling of it being blocked and my reduced ability to hear persisted. Arghhhh.
So today, after getting flack from the guy at the front desk of the health center here in Cabra, I went to see the doctor without all that fancy pants stuff they do in the US before you even see a doctor -- namely, weight/height/blood pressure/vitals/medication history and then you wait half an hour before you see a doctor, generally half an hour AFTER your scheduled appointment (can you tell I hate American health care?). Well, there was none of that ridiculousness, today -- I got in to see the doctor after waiting for the people in front of me in line, which was about 20 minutes and I didn't even have an appointment. After the whole consultation and asking what I was allergic to, which is nothing (the only things I think I'm allergic to are insect bites, seeing how I swell up to the size of a golf ball under my skin when even a mosquito bites me). Anyway, I'm rambling....
Point: the visit to the clinic was completely free (yes, free -- Michael Moore wasn't exaggerating, for once, in his documentary Sicko) , and the THREE medications the doctor gave me were...guess how much?? Seven euro, TOTAL. They include 40 max strength ibuprofen, 20 Claritin, and some pill called "Ambroxol," which is to get rid of the mucus making a lovely little trip from my nasal passages into my @#^%ing ear, causing this entire problem. Sure enough, I haven't been able to breathe through my left nostril, the same side where I have the ear problem. Oh, and that problem is a Blocked Eustachian Tube....Say that 10 times fast.
I'm guessing that if I went to see my lovely family physician at home, it would cost around $40 for the doctor visit, WITH insurance, and then probably another $40, with insurance, for the damn drugs. And here it was a measly 7 euro for doctor visit + med's. Unbelievable.
Now I just hope my ear clears up, because it's been really annoying being able to hear my own heart beat but hear pretty much nothing else out of my left ear. Oh, and when I walk, I can hear my footsteps really loudly in my left ear, which is bizarre. And it's painful. And miserable.
Anyway -- I still need to write about Italy. That'll come up soon...stay tuned.
Monday, May 11, 2009
A l'il bit of Negative Nancy-ing
I forgot to include a few other things to the list of things I won't miss about Spain...
- Mullets. Especially the terrifying, but less common, FE-mullet. I've asked the Spaniards what the word for "mullet" is, but there's no translation. Also, I find it kind of ironic that the "cool" kids in school are almost always donning a gel-caked mullet. It is unbelievably unattractive.
- Random facial piercings, usually below the lip. I'm curious why this is considered attractive, because to me, I do a double take because it looks like acne.
- Freakin' motos, or little motorcycle/Vespa things, ALWAYS buzzing by. If there were a soundtrack to my life in Spain, it would include these sounds. My only source of joy about this annoyance is that those annoying a-holes who drive the motos will be partially deaf in a matter of years. Ah, schadenfreude.
- DOG SHIT (excuse me, but when you see it EVERYWHERE, it deserves the word). I was jogging this afternoon and every couple feet I would see a mound. People just don't give a (forgive me) shit about this issue!
- No clothes driers, hence, you have to plan your laundry days around the weather if you want your clothes to dry in less than a week.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
¡Solamente queda un mes más!
One more month left here...less, actually. Qué loco...
Things I will miss about Spain:
Things I will miss about Spain:
- Taking lots and lots of pictures of lots and lots of cool things. Europeans always say they're shocked at how big everything is in the USA, but I think estadounidenses are shocked at the size of and age of all the monuments here and the entirely different feel of the big cities.
- ¡SIESTA! I have the happy talent of being able to sleep at any time of day, in any contorted position imaginable, sometimes with the help of an obliging roommate letting me put my feet on their lap while on a train or leaning my knees on their lap. And I dream, too, so I guess I hit my REM sleep or whatever it is.
- Lots of opportunities to travel and at a waaay cheaper price than in the USA
- Lots and lots of time to read. I've managed to read about 30 books since I've been here. Back in college I didn't read too much for fun, since it was all I was doing in my Journalism and Spanish classes, not to mention sometimes having to write several 20 + page papers and writing for the newspaper...Since the last list I posted in my blog, I've read The Appeal by John Grisham, Sea Glass by Anita Shreve, All He Ever Wanted by Anita Shreve, and right now I'm reading Conflicts of Interest by John Martel
- My ridiculously cheap apartment... even though it's had so many problems since I've been here, such as the gas cylinder holder nearly exploding/having to be replaced, the washer having to be replaced, the hot water not working, calcium getting stuck in the pipes all the time until January, water pressure not working right until January, hardly any climate control whatsoever, dust bunnies constantly popping up for unknown reasons, the top shelf of one of our cupboards collapsing, the toilet in one of the bathrooms being completely useless in the past month and until we leave, stuff getting stuck in the wall sockets, the inability to sit on the toilet because my legs are too long and they hit the tub/so I have to sit at a weird angle...um...I think that's it. You get what you pay for.
- My nice long walks to and from school
- Everything being within walking distance in my little town
- Everything being cheap in my little town
- The generally nice temperature
- All the history in Spain
- Cool buildings and art
- Fans! I have a nice little collection going
- My novelty to the Spaniards -- especially being an Amazon woman
- Speaking Spanish every day
- The food -- I was warned about "jamón" before I came here, and it was as weird as described, with bajillions of pig legs hanging everywhere and making me nauseated.
- The Spaniards being sometimes uncomfortably direct in their conversation, e.g. "your accent is really weird" or coming up to me in the street to tell me I'm GUAPA or one time being FOLLOWED (yikes)
- The streets being insanely small
- STARING. People will just outright look at you until I look back and raise an eyebrow as if to say "what the hell do you want?"
- No carpet
- The utter lack of discipline for kids in the education system. I lay the smackdown on a daily basis at school and don't respond to kids yelling my name incessantly.
- Having my name pronounced "MEHHHK"
- Lack of personal space...I guess I got the Swedish genes in that respect, because I get kind of uncomfortable being touched by people I don't know well. Sometimes just in general.
- SMOKING EVERYWHERE! I absolutely hate it when my hair smells like smoke, my eyes sting, my clothes smell, etc.
Monday, May 4, 2009
België, part.....XII???
Previously, in Meg's blog....*cue culturally relevant music in the background* I suggest "The Brabançonne"
EVERY DAY SIGHTING
There were many a delicious, uniquely-shaped easter candy!
I decided to "tan" on one of those rare sunny Belgian afternoons. By the way, I do not tan, I only burn. If I do manage to pick up some more melanin and look tan, it goes away if I'm not consistently outdoors, workin' on it.
Visiting the Vanderbauwhede family and riding their little mare, Naveena. Darlien Schaubroeck, Hans' wife, is a descendant of my great grandma's brother. Put more simply, my dad and Darlien are second cousins.
Forgive the time warp, but I never really wrote about the second half of my trip to Belgium since I went on that long tangent about my Belgian ancestry. Woops.
(Insert whatever phrase the Flemish say here for "let's start!" ...)
FRIDAY (part 2)
It looks like I have yet to describe the rest of the day when I went to Kortrijk with Stephanie and Sophie. We went back to their parents' home and I got to see Stephanie's little kids, twins Victor and Marie. They saw me earlier that day before we left, but they were a bit apprehensive about getting to know me. I asked if I could get a picture with Marie and Stephanie went to get her and she started crying! Poor thing...I guess I'm scary? She changed her mind later, though (all little kids like me, generally). After that, Stephanie and the kids were off back to Huise.
After we ate lunch, Sophie left, too, and then I went with Marlene and Dirk to Deinze to see my grandma's cousins hosted at Albina's home.
Sisters, Albina and Christiana Adam, and Christiana's husband Daniel
She's so funny - I was so looking forward to seeing her again
A bit elaborate, I think...and that's not even all of it!
Albina's granddaughters (they would be my 3rd cousins), Delphine and Lesley showed up, too. Lesley and I used to be pen pals after we first met in Belgium in 1997 and we hadn't seen each other since then. I last saw Delphine in 2000
There were many a delicious, uniquely-shaped easter candy!
I decided to "tan" on one of those rare sunny Belgian afternoons. By the way, I do not tan, I only burn. If I do manage to pick up some more melanin and look tan, it goes away if I'm not consistently outdoors, workin' on it.
Visiting the Vanderbauwhede family and riding their little mare, Naveena. Darlien Schaubroeck, Hans' wife, is a descendant of my great grandma's brother. Put more simply, my dad and Darlien are second cousins.
Forgive the time warp, but I never really wrote about the second half of my trip to Belgium since I went on that long tangent about my Belgian ancestry. Woops.
(Insert whatever phrase the Flemish say here for "let's start!" ...)
FRIDAY (part 2)
It looks like I have yet to describe the rest of the day when I went to Kortrijk with Stephanie and Sophie. We went back to their parents' home and I got to see Stephanie's little kids, twins Victor and Marie. They saw me earlier that day before we left, but they were a bit apprehensive about getting to know me. I asked if I could get a picture with Marie and Stephanie went to get her and she started crying! Poor thing...I guess I'm scary? She changed her mind later, though (all little kids like me, generally). After that, Stephanie and the kids were off back to Huise.
After we ate lunch, Sophie left, too, and then I went with Marlene and Dirk to Deinze to see my grandma's cousins hosted at Albina's home.
Sisters, Albina and Christiana Adam, and Christiana's husband Daniel
She's so funny - I was so looking forward to seeing her again
A bit elaborate, I think...and that's not even all of it!
Albina's granddaughters (they would be my 3rd cousins), Delphine and Lesley showed up, too. Lesley and I used to be pen pals after we first met in Belgium in 1997 and we hadn't seen each other since then. I last saw Delphine in 2000While we were at Albina's doing some chatting about a little of this/that (and Dirk translating like a madman), I told Albina how much I admire her decorating. So, she decided she HAD to take me to her bedroom to show me her handmade bedspread and curtains and everything else. And she showed us all how she puts on -- get this -- white satin gloves when she makes the bed, so the sheets say nice...which made me ask if she also wears special pajamas ???
Lesley and her husband Pascal and I went out after that to their house and then to an Italian restaurant. I looked at the pictures from their wedding from a few years back and their vacation pictures from Istanbul, which seemed pretty cool.
After dinner, we headed to an outdoor bar/music place called Het Gouden Hof and chatted with their friends, and Lesley's mom and stepdad showed up after that. Lesley's stepdad is Albina's son, Mark (my dad's second cousin).
Holding a Kriek, a fruity (bitch) beer
Me and Mark and a drummer named Kwinten
Lesley and her husband Pascal and I went out after that to their house and then to an Italian restaurant. I looked at the pictures from their wedding from a few years back and their vacation pictures from Istanbul, which seemed pretty cool.
After dinner, we headed to an outdoor bar/music place called Het Gouden Hof and chatted with their friends, and Lesley's mom and stepdad showed up after that. Lesley's stepdad is Albina's son, Mark (my dad's second cousin).
Holding a Kriek, a fruity (bitch) beer
Me and Mark and a drummer named KwintenWhile I was there, I managed to arrange yet another meeting with a Belgian cousin, Louis, who is actually biologically related to Lesley on her dad's side. Interesting. So anyway, we planned on meeting on Easter Sunday in Gent. Louis speaks perfect English since he lived in the USA for a year, in Colorado. All Belgians speak at least 3 languages, or at least the younger crowd does.
Keep in mind that Belgium is the size of Vermont, only there are 8 million people in the country and various languages and dialects (Dutch, Flemish, French, German). Also, Spaniards occupied Belgium several hundred years ago, and that's where Flamenco dancing originated -- "flamenco" also means "Flemish" in Spanish...also "flamingo."
Keep in mind that Belgium is the size of Vermont, only there are 8 million people in the country and various languages and dialects (Dutch, Flemish, French, German). Also, Spaniards occupied Belgium several hundred years ago, and that's where Flamenco dancing originated -- "flamenco" also means "Flemish" in Spanish...also "flamingo."
SATURDAY
Sophie showed up at the VanLancker house on Saturday morning, and we were going to go to Bruge, but it turned out that there was a train strike, so we just decided to go to Gent, instead. The weather was very not Belgian, meaning it was hot hot hot. I was wearing a sweater that has some wool in it, or something, so I was a bit roasty toasty, but oh well. Meanwhile, Sylvie was rocking a skirt, tank and heels...
Sidenote: I just recently decided to break my no heels in Spain rule, by the way, because even though I'm in the 95th-ish percentile of female height among the Spanish shorties (I'm 5'9" and change), I don't care anymore. It's an immediate posture corrector + leg + booty boost. /girly tangent
She is pretty
After eating some panini al fresco by the water, doing a bit of shopping (new swim suit, so excited!) and planning a potential trip for Sylvie to visit me in Spain, we were off to Eveleen's house - her older sister.
Me, Warre (her 2-year old son -- ridiculously adorable) and Eveleen
We had just played together in the sandbox and I felt like an idiot because a 2 year old can say more words (in Flemish) than I can!!! I would say certain words and he would repeat me, which was really amusing...things like "woo" and "no," "yes," and such. I can say here, there, where, the numbers 1-10, hello, bye, how are you, papa, mama, grandpa, grandma, working, is, Dutch, English, Flemish...I think that's about it. Oh, and I learned "beautiful," and sand and hand, which was extremely helpful.
We went to Sylvie's apartment afterwards and she made us dinner, which was some kind of Japanese noodles and a ton of veggies - yum yum in the tum tum. We were planning to go together to a concert that night, but it was sold out so she wasn't able to get another ticket for me, unfortunately. So we just decided to go out for beers and I made the decision to try a Duvel (which means Devil) just to say I'd done it. It's suuuuper strong, probably one Duvel is the equivalent of 3 or 4 American beers. I only had one, after eating, and I was prettttty buzzed.
yum
Sophie showed up at the VanLancker house on Saturday morning, and we were going to go to Bruge, but it turned out that there was a train strike, so we just decided to go to Gent, instead. The weather was very not Belgian, meaning it was hot hot hot. I was wearing a sweater that has some wool in it, or something, so I was a bit roasty toasty, but oh well. Meanwhile, Sylvie was rocking a skirt, tank and heels...
Sidenote: I just recently decided to break my no heels in Spain rule, by the way, because even though I'm in the 95th-ish percentile of female height among the Spanish shorties (I'm 5'9" and change), I don't care anymore. It's an immediate posture corrector + leg + booty boost. /girly tangent
She is prettyAfter eating some panini al fresco by the water, doing a bit of shopping (new swim suit, so excited!) and planning a potential trip for Sylvie to visit me in Spain, we were off to Eveleen's house - her older sister.
Me, Warre (her 2-year old son -- ridiculously adorable) and Eveleen
We had just played together in the sandbox and I felt like an idiot because a 2 year old can say more words (in Flemish) than I can!!! I would say certain words and he would repeat me, which was really amusing...things like "woo" and "no," "yes," and such. I can say here, there, where, the numbers 1-10, hello, bye, how are you, papa, mama, grandpa, grandma, working, is, Dutch, English, Flemish...I think that's about it. Oh, and I learned "beautiful," and sand and hand, which was extremely helpful.We went to Sylvie's apartment afterwards and she made us dinner, which was some kind of Japanese noodles and a ton of veggies - yum yum in the tum tum. We were planning to go together to a concert that night, but it was sold out so she wasn't able to get another ticket for me, unfortunately. So we just decided to go out for beers and I made the decision to try a Duvel (which means Devil) just to say I'd done it. It's suuuuper strong, probably one Duvel is the equivalent of 3 or 4 American beers. I only had one, after eating, and I was prettttty buzzed.
yumSUNDAY
Last full day in Belgium, and Dirk drove me to Gent in the morning after meeting up with Marlene's parents, in Nazareth. Her mother, Madeleine, is my grandma's first cousin and the oldest sibling to Albina and Christiana -- also Julian, who passed away, and another sibling named Andre. And surprisingly for me, Marlene's sister Rita was also there.
While we were there, we looked through a lot of old photos and Madeleine's scrapbook. It's funny to see Madeleine, for me, because she has an uncanny resemblance to my grandma (Adams) Boberg.
That's my grandma -- pushing 84 and still tearing it up on the golf course and beating everybody in the over 65 female competitions!
Last full day in Belgium, and Dirk drove me to Gent in the morning after meeting up with Marlene's parents, in Nazareth. Her mother, Madeleine, is my grandma's first cousin and the oldest sibling to Albina and Christiana -- also Julian, who passed away, and another sibling named Andre. And surprisingly for me, Marlene's sister Rita was also there.
While we were there, we looked through a lot of old photos and Madeleine's scrapbook. It's funny to see Madeleine, for me, because she has an uncanny resemblance to my grandma (Adams) Boberg.
That's my grandma -- pushing 84 and still tearing it up on the golf course and beating everybody in the over 65 female competitions!...Back to our regular programming.
Dirk and Marlene drove me into Gent after that to meet up with Louis and his girlfriend, Barbara and some other people. It was pretty amusing to see Barbara speak with her brother at his restaurant, because she would speak English to him and he would usually reply in Flemish, and it wasn't even awkward for them. Barbara has a Swedish roommate, so I guess that's the story there.
Dirk and Marlene drove me into Gent after that to meet up with Louis and his girlfriend, Barbara and some other people. It was pretty amusing to see Barbara speak with her brother at his restaurant, because she would speak English to him and he would usually reply in Flemish, and it wasn't even awkward for them. Barbara has a Swedish roommate, so I guess that's the story there.
We talked about their 90s music quiz that they were planning on taking that night, had some pastries and coffee, I bought chocolate while Barbara helped me decide, we went to Louis' place and listened to music, we went to the flower market where I got a cute little bouquet for my lovely hosts...that was about it for that trip, relaxing and fun. Louis is "awesome," as my brother says. Louis actually seems really similar to Pat in a lot of ways, minus the accent and different sense of style (read: any style at all...no offense, P@).
Louis, Barbara and I headed back to Nazareth, to the VanLancker house, and then we started the afternoon-evening-night party shortly after I got there, complete with their daughters + significant others + the twins - it was a lot of fun. I told Sophie's boyfriend Anthony that I really wanted to hear him play keyboard (he's a pro musician), so after dinner he went to get his equipment and we spent most of the rest of the night listening to him, doing some karaoke, and I sang a bit for them. I used to think I wanted to pursue some sort of career in vocal performance, but my music theory is pretty bare bones -- I can read music fairly well, but the nitty gritty is over my head. Frown town. Plus, it's too volatile a career, so I'd much rather write, instead.
Anyway ~ here's some pic's of that night:
No trip to Belgium is complete without frittes! I also really want one of those fry shovels.
Marie decided I was the Devil, after all (but I was the only person present who was refused a kiss when she went to bed...sad times!)
Marlene, Anthony, Marieke, Sophie
Victor and Anthony -- is that not the most AWWWWW worthy picture in the history of time?
I got some gifts! Too generous, as usual
The twins
Me and the girls :) There's a picture of me and the boys, but it's on Sophie's camera, I think
Sven and Marie -- Marie is a total daddy's girl!
It looks like I've wrapped up all my Belgium trip. Whew! Tonsssss of relatives there, seriously. Good records, I suppose, since my grandma was essentially a first generation immigrant, more or less, even though she wasn't born in Belgium... her siblings were.
Looks like that's it for this installment of my expatriated adventures. Vaarwel!
Louis, Barbara and I headed back to Nazareth, to the VanLancker house, and then we started the afternoon-evening-night party shortly after I got there, complete with their daughters + significant others + the twins - it was a lot of fun. I told Sophie's boyfriend Anthony that I really wanted to hear him play keyboard (he's a pro musician), so after dinner he went to get his equipment and we spent most of the rest of the night listening to him, doing some karaoke, and I sang a bit for them. I used to think I wanted to pursue some sort of career in vocal performance, but my music theory is pretty bare bones -- I can read music fairly well, but the nitty gritty is over my head. Frown town. Plus, it's too volatile a career, so I'd much rather write, instead.
Anyway ~ here's some pic's of that night:
No trip to Belgium is complete without frittes! I also really want one of those fry shovels.
Marie decided I was the Devil, after all (but I was the only person present who was refused a kiss when she went to bed...sad times!)
Marlene, Anthony, Marieke, Sophie
Victor and Anthony -- is that not the most AWWWWW worthy picture in the history of time?Victor looks like a cartoon character!
I got some gifts! Too generous, as usual
The twins
Me and the girls :) There's a picture of me and the boys, but it's on Sophie's camera, I think
Sven and Marie -- Marie is a total daddy's girl!Looks like that's it for this installment of my expatriated adventures. Vaarwel!
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