Barberland

Live from Japan

2009-09-04T04:59:00.003-05:00

Atsui des ne’! The heat sapped my energy today. Mat and I are in a new area of Kyoto now. Actually, we are outside of Kyoto in Japanese suburbia, near Uji. This is the fourth place we’ve stayed since arriving in Kyoto. I’m in the common room of the guesthouse now. Mat is at the Kyoto International Community House meeting a prospective student, and I find myself with time to update you on our journey.

At the very beginning of this trip I found it providential that we were given free food everywhere. Mat’s mom took us out for dinner before our flight from Denver to Houston. Then since our plane arrived late in Houston we were given free meal vouchers for the airport, which was quite nice since we were spending the night there. After being guided to the cushiest seats in the airport (couches near Starbucks) we were offered a free dinner of pizza by a fellow traveler also sleeping at Houston. In the morning I went to buy orange juice at Starbucks for a little morning cocktail and the girl hadn’t prepared her drawer yet, so she gave it to me for free. Then we had free breakfast with our airport vouchers. It was a lovely fare-thee-well from America.

Yesterday while riding the subway here after dinner at our favorite street restaurant I referred to us as poor fools. Mat suggested I try foolish poors or some other title that emphasized how really foolish we were to come to Japan without $3,000 apiece saved up. Instead, we arrived with about $1,500 (Thank you, Mom for one third of that. We could not have made it without that gift!) to share and it’s no exaggeration that Japan is expensive.

Here in Japan, for the first week we lived on bread and coffee in the morning (free at the hostels), a rice ball or triangle each for lunch (105 yen each), and a Japanese kind of pancake/omelet and noodles for dinner (150 yen each). We then ended the day with a shared beer or sake cup by the river (197 or 155 yen each). In this way we’ve averaged spending 700 – 1000 yen ($7.50-$11) a day on food. However, some days we go crazy and spend more. For example, while couchsurfing we cooked our hosts dinner on the last evening there and spent more than 2,000 yen. Or some nights we spend 700-900 yen at our cheap and delicious restaurant. While couchsurfing, since we weren’t paying for a room, my stomach got used to eating well. We had rice and vegetables every night. One night we even had a Mexican dinner! Today Mat and I shared a fluffy loaf of raisin bread (Japanese bread has very little substance) and drank a can of coffee each (300 and some yen). I had another iced coffee a few hours later (free) and then ate a shoyu and sesame covered rice ball (105 yen) for lunch. Right now I’m very hungry, but will try to wait for Mat for dinner.

As for housing, we stayed in hostels for our first week here, but after the slow search of finding jobs and more permanent housing, we tried couchsurfing in Kyoto. We were incredibly lucky and were able to stay with four guys for about a week. A boy from Germany was also surfing with them, so we got to spend time with some fabulous people. Shingo, the main host, has traveled around the world playing didgeridoo and practices reiki healings with didgeridoo. He’s very interested in creating and living in a sustainable community one day. All around, he’s a laid back and generous man. We were lucky to meet him. His roommates are a hilarious trio. One is a DJ and bartender, one is a hairsylist and radio show host, and the other is an artist and gardener. Every night they dance together and laugh and wrestle and ultimately provide slapstick comedy for us all. We were thankful for our time there. Now we’re in a new guesthouse near Uji. It just opened on the 6th of August. The rooms are super cheap, only 1,000 yen/night or 6,000/week or 20,000/month. The couple that runs it is adorable and kind and asked Mat or I to teach English on the weekends. I’m quite excited to help them in their dream of having a guesthouse and café since that is our dream also. One of their regular customers speaks English quite well and said he’d teach us Japanese and the Zen lifestyle.

At this moment, we’re okay and making it in Japan. On Wednesday I have an interview for a job. and if I get that job they are able to sponsor me for a working visa. Right now, I think that’s the only way we can stay here much longer. So please pray or send positive thoughts or cast magical spells for us. We want to stay in Japan. We like it here even though it hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where we thought something was going our way and then we didn’t hear back from people or people we thought were all right seemed sketchy and untrustworthy. We’ve walked so many, many miles in shoes that should not walk many miles. For only being in Japan two weeks, I think we’re making progress, but other days I think it’s not enough. But ultimately, we are in Japan! We are living here and barely making it and meeting excellent people. We’re weary and hopeful and hot and thrilled and hungry. We’re alive.

Di dove doo, Devin.

2009-08-03T21:09:00.003-05:00

I'm so glad this worked! This is a video that Scott sent to Buffy and I in Korea. I especially love that it features Devin whom I have not seen nor heard for a long time. It also reminds me of Buffy and our times in Korea. Even though she is still physically present on this earth, I haven't seen nor heard her for a long time too. I love you, Buffy. And I have your cd copy of this if you'd ever like it.

Leaving

2009-07-28T16:32:00.004-05:00

For the last seven years I have not lived in one place for longer than 16 months. Three of those years I spent teaching in another country which means that I've always left boxes behind. There are boxes in Ben Yancer's garage and boxes in my brother's basement. I'm leaving again soon and this time, am determined to not leave so much of my stuff, which I realize is part of myself, behind. On Friday we start the garage sale and most of it's going to go. This marks day two of sorting and it's hard. I love my stuff. I love my books. I love the gifts people have given me. I love my mementos of travels. I love my clothes. I remember who I was when I read those things or bought them or wore them. I liked knowing that wherever I was that they were there.

But for this next journey I'm letting them go. In my spiritual practice, Jesus is my guru. Not necessarily by choice, but I accepted him all the same. I can't help but think of Jesus telling the rich man to sell all he has and follow him. I don't consider myself rich, which is why I'm selling all (most) of what I have and giving the money to myself, but still, I feel the conflict. To the best of my ability, I will take the plunge anyway. I will follow romance and adventure with a little trunk of who I was left behind. But even if that were to perish, I will still be what I will be.

Night school and a conclusion to the mystery fruit.

2009-02-08T13:18:00.004-06:00

A couple nights ago I dreamt that I was walking downtown with a coworker. As we walked a maze of streets to find our destination, a jeep and a white SVU zipped by us followed by a police car. We spotted them and avoided them randomly on the journey. Then we walking down an alley way. To the left of us was a brick wall and to the right was a golden prairie. In the prairie were three old people sitting on a couch, one man and two little women. All of the sudden the jeep came tearing by us and the white SVU drove out into the prairie. He sped close to the couch and hit the lady in blue. I screamed for Morgan to run and call 911 and then ran out to them. But to my surprise the woman was hurt at all and all three of them were rather giggly. I sat with them and in a few moments what I thought was a covered wagon began coming over the hill. I thought that this must be what they were waiting for. However, as it emerged I realized that it was something like an electric train sort of floating on top of the ground. In front a black man was sitting on a small seat guiding it by leaning his body to the right or the left. He was light-skinned and muscular and sang with a deep voice about going home and about leaving his boyfriend who had "type A." We floated along him for a bit and then I woke up.

I think I dreamt this because the night before I was scared twice that a car was going to hit me. I also think this reveals my fear that cars will destroy an older, more natural, and happy way of living. It also reassures me that that way is not easily brought down.

As for the mystery fruit in my last post long ago, I believe it is a kiwano, except that ours had no horns. The description of the fruit matches well, though.

Mystery fruit

2008-12-18T19:31:00.002-06:00

Does anyone know what fruit this is? We got it at the market and didn't think to ask what it was.

Mat and I just finished packing. Tomorrow we get on a bus around 9:30 and head to Mexico City for the beginning of a good 37 hour journey.

Then I'll see many of you soon.

Merry Christmas.

Home sweet house.

2008-12-06T10:49:00.003-06:00

In order: kitchen, living room, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom.

Two weeks from today we will for sure be gone from here. Before we leave I thought I'd show you some terrible, backwards isight photos of where we live.

Holiday nerves.

2008-12-03T11:49:00.002-06:00

I don't think I can do it. We have to start practicing the choreography for Jingle Bells tomorrow and I have yet to figure out the dance moves for a group of 5th graders who do not want to dance it. The second graders are doing some complicated song about Christmas, the fourth graders at least have Sleigh Ride that has varied lyrics, and we have Jingle Bells, the same song as the first graders, might I add.

16 more days. Only 16 more days.

Long weekend

2008-11-30T22:43:00.002-06:00

This weekend has felt like a long, lazy one even though I had to work the holiday. Yesterday we stayed in and puttered about for much of the day. Mat looked for prairie land online and I started playing with my bits of broken glass I collected on our walks on the tracks. In the afternoon we went to the museo de photographia in the old Franciscan monastery. We went to three different exhibits before we found the actual photographs, but it was interesting and the courtyards and small rooms were so beautiful.

Today we got up in no rush, ate a couple tamales and walked to the bus station to go to Tula. I've been dying to see pyramids while here and they have an important archealogical site. I'm always a little disappointed when I visit pyramids here. I hope to find huge, huge staircases, but they're usually fairly small deteriorated mounds. I also expect to find this aura of sacredness, but I didn't.

After wandering about the ruins, we still had several hours to kill. We found an old cathedral and wandered about. Nuns and monks really knew how to design a home. Walking around there is a sense of security, freedom and mystery there architecture these days rarely accomplishes. Sadly, part of the cathedral is now a market, which I know has never made Jesus happy.

Another surprise we found was that Tula is renovating it's center to be car-free. It was a pleasure to walk down quite boulevards and see newly painted buildings. We hope that they plan on cleaning up their river as well. It looks like summer floods made it quite the smelly garbage heap.

I feelt that the theme of todays trip was a feeling of the sacred mixed up with the dirt, stench and greed of reality. I have no complaints.

Almost there, but not quite.

2008-11-29T20:16:00.001-06:00

Tomorrow is the last day of attempting to blog every day. I missed the last few days and I'm kind of sad about that because I have so many things I've wanted to write about. Maybe I'll just try to continue blogging more consistently in the future.

On Wednesday night we went to some teachers' apartment for a going away dinner for Rachel. This was the first time we'd gone over to my coworkers house for dinner and not a huge party. I get nervous about parties. I have social skills, I know. I just don't know how to apply them well in groups. But surprisingly, it was really fun. We talked and ate and laughed.

The board members paid for a Thanksgiving dinner for the foreign teachers on Thursday. It was a little too noisy for a proper holiday feel, but once the dancing began I didn't worry about feeling warm and fuzzy. Thankfully, I had learned the Mexican line dance at Silvia's birthday party so I pretty much rocked that one. We also bounced our way through a little swing song. It was so nice to dance again.

Then on Friday night we went over to another couple's house for a little party that they were having. It was very low key. I spent most of my time readying a book called "Spirit Healing" or something like that. Quite stimulating for me and I had a couple good conversations because of it.

These moments with my coworkers almost make me want to stay in Pachuca, but when I go back into the classroom, I feel so relieved that I'm going. Soon I'll let you know what my plan is next.

What happened when I used PhotoBooth as a mirror.

2008-11-26T18:34:00.006-06:00

Weekend eating.

2008-11-25T21:07:00.003-06:00

Mat and I have two markets we like to eat at. One is the little market one block from our house. A little old lady who speaks to us very slowly makes us surprise meals or serves us a combination of our old standards: rice, eggs and beans. We slide in behind the table together next to the refrigerator. It feels like eating in Grandma's kitchen.

At the huge bustling market downtown (the phenomenally cheap one) we got wrangled into one of the many "kitchens" and have never left. They are incredibly aggressive in getting customers, not letting you pass until they have listed their entire menu. If your eyes light up in the slightest they shove you onto the bench. There are at least four little kitchens on either side, so the eating area echos with, "Pasale! Pasale!" We like our ladies. They serve good food and never, ever let you run out of homemade tortillas hot of the griddle in front of you. I have fallen for the mole verde, while Mat still sticks with sopa, frijoles y arroz...and beer. We always have beer at this market. Victoria is our preference.

I'll miss the food of Mexico, and those who sell it: The orange juice man next to Grandma's kitchen, the taco men up the street and the tamale lady who sells in front of the bread shop across the street. Although, we will not miss her granddaughter who sells on the weekend and stuffs her face with tamales and mocks us and rips us off.

It's nice to know who makes your food. Local is good. I wish we had more of it in the States.

Happy Holidays

2008-11-24T21:31:00.002-06:00

Today we had to start teaching "Jingle Bells" to our 5th graders. Their pronunciation needs to be perfect for next week when they record it.

Dang it! I've been so busy writing bimester tests that I forgot to work on the choreography that needs to accompany it.

Maybe I am not almost finished with work tonight.

Merry Prairie Christmas

2008-11-23T18:08:00.003-06:00

My dad has a new project going on. If you want to catch up on his journey you can watch his videos here on his page. This video tells about his new project. Halfway houses are my father's passion. He's good at starting them and running them. I'm glad that this is what he's working on now. I might even add a song to his collection with the help of Ben Yancer.

Missed time.

2008-11-23T09:26:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I didn't blog, not because I didn't have plenty of time online, but because I get caught up in reading other people's blogs and attempting to plan adventures. Mat mocks me a lot for this. I was going to blog before going to bed, but then we totally Weird Al-ed it out, and I fell asleep in my clothes and contacts. Once you fall asleep in bed here, there is no getting out again in the cold.

Since my first week in Mexico when we took a bus ride through the mountains and I saw stone fences, I have wanted to make a stone fence. I want to pick up the stones with my hands and find the perfect place for them.

When we visit small, old towns and even when we walk through this old town, I was to learn to build with bricks. I want to make a home with my own hands.

As we walk down the railroad tracks here in Pachuca, I see broken pieces of glass. There are blue, green, brown, clear and sometimes even red shards. I want to gather them up and make a mosaic.

I want to make things, or at least learn to make things. This weekend we've tried to figure out ways to WWOOF before leaving this region. With our finances this means that we can't go home for Christmas. If things worked out very badly, we might not even have enough money to get back home. If things worked out well, if we stayed past January and could get tax money, if I worked part time teaching English, we would spend the winter in a warm place, and hopefully have learned something in the meantime. It's difficult balancing the desire be home and maybe even settle into a home and make a home, and the desire for exotic places and learning.

To my friends and family with blog feeder thingy.

2008-11-21T22:37:00.004-06:00

I hope that most of you have no idea what this blog is about, but for those of you who do...

You see...we were having a competition to see who could right the best intro to an...um...all american...um...romance novel.

Yeah...we were just playing a joke. April fools!! Ha. Ha...ha.

Really, it was totally Mat. All Mat. I am so pissed that he took over my computer. That's what happened.

Fine. I was just uninspired and typed unedited dribble and was wrestled out of the way and the publish button was hit and I was mad and we thought it would be okay, but it's not. It's not okay. It's actually pretty, darn humiliating, and I apologize.

You obviously will not hear things like that come from me again, but, no need to lie now, it's there on occasion.

I'm sorry you had to read that. Thank you for the replies of good humor. I hope you'll respect me in the morning.

Decision Day

2008-11-20T21:16:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow I'm going to tell my boss, who has just recovered from salmonella poisoning, that I'm not coming back after Christmas. I feel good about it. Today in staff meeting he handed out a story of a student teacher working in an underprivileged, difficult classroom of third graders with behavior problems. Of course, she worked hard and stuck with them and transformed the classroom. When I hear these stories, I want to stay. I am an incurable idealist and would love to transform the world one classroom at a time, but not here.

Last night I went to a birthday party of one of my students. They live in a gated house in a gated community. The students there were the "Pinkles" (my little snotty girl-gang) and a whole lot of boys (most of my obnoxious problem ones). As soon as I walked in with my Spanish co-teacher and her family, one of the boys started snorting, like he likes to do in class. Then one of the girls asked me for a pony, another joke which the group of boys likes to repeat. I smiled at them and ignored their pleas for attention. While I was eating a group of boys ran up to me and asked to see my scar. I refused. It all ended up all right in the end. Sylvia's mom started dancing in a silly mom way and soon we were all doing a Mexican line dance. I was happy to slip out shortly after.

What actually bothered me the most was the fact that all the kids left their plates, which then blew off the table on to the grass. After picking up one in my area, as is my instinct, I stopped. No one else even noticed, let alone thought about picking them up. They have people that do that for them. If I were caught picking them up, I think it would just be embarassing for me and the family. The teacher doing the job of a servant. But that's how I was raised, to be a servant, to do the right thing. Most of my students are raised to believe that the dirty jobs are someone else's jobs. The mess they make is not their own to clean up.

So, I'm going to leave. I'm leaving because this is not how I want to live, and I'm getting old. I don't want to waste time on things that don't work. So for my last month, I will do my best to be kind to my students and yell less and lead with a better example. But mostly I want to shove them off their little ponies.

College of Spirits

2008-11-19T06:51:00.004-06:00

Last night I dreamt that I went back to Union College for a reunion. Katie and Israel and I were talking when a friend of theirs came up to us, telling us to read an article he wrote in a magazine. There we saw a picture of people in white walking around the campus. They were the ghosts of Union College, the spirits of friends who had passed away. Front and center in a too fluffy dress was Devin. I don't know if the article was full of moving people like the Quibbler of Harry Potter, or if we actually walked around with her on the campus, but I definitely felt her presence. I'm always happy for the moments when she appears in my dreams or memories.

Later in my dream I was attending an event where lots of staff and old students were mingling around some elderly organic gardeners. I was so excited to see them because I used to be a member of their group. In reality, I think they represented the ladies and gentlemen of the Senior Dances Mat and I used to attend.

The whole dream had a very hippy and light feel. I remember that I was wearing Katie's necklace and trying to figure out what other old bauble of mine to throw on.

Wildflowers

2008-11-18T07:04:00.002-06:00

Last night Mat played a few Tom Petty songs before we went to bed. Although it wasn't one of his choices, "Time to Move On" has been in my head since I woke up.

"Time to move on. Time to get going. What lies ahead I have no way of knowing...."

Still leaning towards leaving, but I don't know what we'll do next. This job and this place is not what I want for my life. We left Lincoln to get away from the cars. We've landed in a place where there are more cars and more pollution. Elementary education is not what I'm going into, so it's all right if it's not emphasized on my resume. Besides, this is not a real school anyway.

Thank you very much for your input and insights. Especially from those of you who have been through this before.

I'll let you know my final decision soon. It will be made at the end of the week, but this week is a moody week so who knows how I'll feel tomorrow.

More on this weekend as well...

Choices

2008-11-14T22:33:00.003-06:00

First of all, where to go this weekend. We've decided on Valle Bravo. I'll tell you about when we return. Yes, that means I'll be away from the blogging for a few days. This weekend is a long weekend. I need it.

Another decision today was a Moca Frappe at our little coffee shop. I don't usually go for the blended sweet drinks, but today it was exactly what I was, strangely, needing. I like that they used Mexican chocolate with cinnamon and nuts. It gave it more personality and depth.

Our dinner choice was a tiny, family cosina specializing in chalupas. We got four for fifty cents, and they were amazing. Tiny fried tortillas with mashed potatoes, green salsa, lettuce, cheese and a little chicken. I also tried a sopa which I enjoyed. They served chicken legs too, but I'm not going to eat them. I have to draw the line somewhere. As we were waiting for one of the three plastic tables to open up some old Mexican ladies started talking to us in very fast Spanish. I think they asked where we were from, but we were too dazed to answer. One asked if I spoke Spanish and I said, "Muy pocito." I thought they said something about God, but then they used the words guapo and bonita. Mat stood with a confused look the whole time, until I finally told him that I think they're saying we're a cute couple. I love neiborhood food. An old man even came in with his own little tupperware container for chicken feet.

The choice that we're still debating, and I would like your input on, is the choice whether to stay here or not. The more we talk about it, the more find it difficult to see ourselves here after Christmas. Here's why. 1)My job is not that great. It's too much work and stress for no real purpose. 2)With the state of the peso, it does not make me much money at all. It's more than enough for living in Mexico, but not for sending money home for loan payments. Also, not enough for traveling. 3)I hate the pollution. It's depressing. It stinks. It's noisy. It's stressful. 4) I hate Walmart. It is all over the place here. 5) We're not at our best here. Yes, we might be able to overcome and see out the year, but what for? Is it helping me save for the future? Am I gaining valuable experience that I need for my career? Not really. It would be a lot of work for the sake of finishing a contract.

I want to stay because 1) I feel bad leaving my students in the middle of the year. Even though at the end of the day I cannot stand many of them, I actually really like them. 2) I like some of my co-workers too, and wouldn't mind spending more time with them. 3) Pride. I don't want to be a teacher who left. 4) I'd like to complete a whole year of teaching.

So there you have it. What do you think?

Dear Mom,

2008-11-13T20:58:00.003-06:00

Happy Birthday! I hoped to talk to you today, but I believe you're at work. I haven't talked to you in a long time, as is the habit of our family, but especially a bad habit of mine. Having no phone and an aversion to being logged on Skype all the time, does not help. I miss talking to you regularly. I enjoyed the golden days of 26th and D and the Sunday morning call that we all took part in. It was a Sunday brunch of news and nothing much.

I will always remember the call how, when finishing my turn, I went for a run, how I was hit, how you drove all night to be with me more than once through that ordeal. You have always, always come to be with me when I needed you. Thank you. I know that I have not always been grateful enough in the past, but I am so thankful that you are my mother.

For all our lives, you have given us the freedom, love and courage to be ourselves. It's not an easy thing to do, but for you, I believe, it was natural. You are a great mother. I'm sorry that you're working on your birthday, and I'm sorry we can't be there to be with you. We'll all be home for Christmas, though. I'm glad for that.

Until then, enjoy your birthday. I hope you are as thankful as I am that you are in this world.

I love you.

Love,

Angela

11:11

2008-11-12T21:13:00.010-06:00

Today I checked the Cosmic Path and discovered that right now we're in a monumental time of change. The portals of darkness are closing, leading us into a new era of light. Tomorrow this key time will be complete.

I do like how cosmology is light and love centered. Lately, I'm not very light and love centered. I feel grumpy in the afternoons and yell too much at my blue class. My head cold makes me want to go home instead of attempting to help them learn things. It is such an effort.

Also, this blogging every day thing is killing me. (Which is why I didn't blog last night.) It reveals how redundant my days are here. Every day I teach 5th graders. Every day I come home and hang out with Mat and get sleepy much too early. It's not a bad life, but it doesn't have much excitement. Frankly, after last Sunday, that is just fine with me.

I keep considering leaving at Christmas. Pachuca is a dirty city. Mat gives me the daily pollution forecast when he looks out our little window as he pees in the morning. If he can't see the mountains, it's a bad sign. Thankfully, the McDonald's sign is still visible. If that disappears we'll get the hell out. Walmart opened yesterday, which I'm sure they're really happy about since it's not enough to own or have their hands in every single one of the other super convenience stores. Oh, I do live in a shitty little town. So I think about leaving. But I'll probably stay. Last year some of my kids had four different teachers, and I don't like putting children through that.

I'll bear it out. I could use a good dose of clean light though. Here's to a less grumpy tomorrow.

The day after.

2008-11-10T21:00:00.002-06:00

Today I'm incredibly sore. My thighs kill me when I walk down stairs. I've also started to get a cold. The stress of this has not done me well. However, my children's laughter when I told them the story did do a bit of good. It does sound pretty funny to say a drunk man chased us down a hill.

But I am serious when I say that it did not feel funny even a little funny.

Yes, this is a lame-o post tonight. But I want to crawl in bed and watch Edward Scissorhands. It'll be my first time. I'm kind of excited for a quirky Johnny Depp movie.

Changes and Fear

2008-11-09T19:06:00.004-06:00

Sorry for all the new layout changes. I was foolish and tried finding a new one without my blog designing guru, Ben. I liked the last one, but it didn't bring up the navigation bar and wouldn't put things where they should be. So this will do for now.

Today Mat and I packed a picnic for a hike up the hill near our house. I've been up there once before and at the top there is a lovely desert meadow with a beautiful view of the mountains on the other side of Pachuca. We planned on eating in the meadow. I was quite excited for the hike because I'd been wanting to do it for a long time.

We were just beginning the climb to the top when we ran into two drunk men. We couldn't understand what they said or what they wanted, so we continued climbing. They were pretty drunk so we took the steeper route hoping they couldn't and wouldn't follow. But we were wrong. The more mobile one followed us up the hill. We started getting afraid. I shouted at him to stop and leave and he made a motion like he was pulling a knife or something out of the back of his pants. We started running up the rocky path. At first it was uphill all the way and it was so hard to run. No matter how fast we went he kept following us. Finally we found a path down and starting running and sliding down the hill. The man was behind us the whole time, yelling at us. He threw a glass at us that hit Mat. We finally reached a main trail near the bottom and ran towards a man and his son and their dogs that had also been walking there that day. Once we saw the man and his boy, the drunk man stopped following us. We made it home shaken and exhausted. I'm still coughing from the exertion four hours later.

This is the first time I have ever had to run for my life. I didn't like it. It was so, so hard to keep going. I was wearing my Chacos and got a rock stuck underneath, but kept running anyway. I have lots of small scratches from thorns and cacti. It was not the nice day that we planned.

I'm thankful that we made it down safely.

Heavy Metal

2008-11-08T20:39:00.006-06:00

Last night was another sleepy night. Usually we dance on Friday night, but the group we're in is going to Cuba and were practicing their whole set. We got home a little after 7 and after reading for a hour or so, I fell asleep. When Mat tried to wake me up to brush my teeth and take out my contacts I tried, but to no avail. In my sleepiness I thought that he was constantly harassing me to get up and swore at him. Well, not really at him, but the sentences I used contained naughty words.

Both Mat and I have been feeling off lately. We didn't dance again today because he was feeling achy and lethargic. Our conclusion, really, his conclusion, but I'm coming around to it, is lead poisoning. We've tried cooking with Mexican pots lately and discovered that they use lead based glazes. Recently we ate a whole pot of beans cooked in a poison pot. Earlier we ate salsa. I suppose if they're using lead pots in the markets, we consumed it there too. At any rate, Mat is sure we're dying slowly and uses the excuse of lead poisoning for achy joints, irritability, lethargy, constipation, and whatever else he feels like. So we're starting a heavy metal detox diet. The only food they've mentioned as aiding in the absorption of lead is cilantro (although there is not heavy scientific evidence it), which, I'm guessing, is why most Mexicans are fairly sane after years of eating lead. Thankfully, cilantro in incredibly cheap here. We can get a nice handful (with roots still attached) for 1 peso. Today we bought 5 pesos worth and tossed it in a salad with spinach and an olive oil, garlic and lime dressing.
It was super tasty and has Mat in better spirits already. He's singing with Elton John quite enthusiastically right now.

Tonight we're also making our first experimental batch of mulled wine. We put in strawberries, half a plum, half a pear, a couple mandarins, cinnamon bark, cloves and a bit of honey. I'll let you know how it turns out. Our house stays unusually cold no matter what the weather, so we're going to work up a collection of warm, tasty spirits. Hmm....maybe we could sell them on the street in the park like in little European villages.

Mmmm...Mat just brought me a cup and it's quite tasty. Pretty much tastes like warm wine with a few more fruity undertones. Next time we're going to try papaya, pineapple and...other stuff that eludes us right now. It will be neat to see how the flavors differ.

Clamorous harbingers of blood and death

2008-11-07T06:40:00.003-06:00

Last night I didn't blog because it would have been a last minute blog and rather pointless. It's hard to blog every day and not have it become like a diary. And today I did this....then I did this....

Last night Mat and I watched Pan's Labyrinth. Lately our movie choices have ended up being a bit dark. Both The Bank Job and In Broges turned out to be much more tragic than expected. However, I've enjoyed them all and have stayed awake through them, with the exception of a small nap at the beginning of Pan's Labyrinth (which is saying something). The Darjeeling Limited has been the exception, and delightfully so. The thing they all have in common is death and good (but not always honest) intentions not turning out like you'd hoped.

It's an honest assesment of life. Though things have rarely turned out the way I'd hoped, I'm glad that my life has yet to end in tragedy or even contain much tragedy. Let's hope it continues that way.

I'm glad it's Friday today. Yesterday, for no reason at all, it was a difficult day. Too much struggling against each other in class. For my other companeros it was the same, leading me to believe that something was happening in the stars. I don't think Mercury was responsible, but it seems like something he might do. I used to check the cosmic updates regularly, but my favorite website started charging for their forecasts.

Our tortilla man makes really good tostadas.

2008-11-05T23:12:00.002-06:00

Unfortunately he uses Cargill corn which I think is probably close to poisonous. Of course, the beans we're eating were cooked in a Mexican clay pot that we're pretty sure used lead paint, so those are poisonous too. Mat and I pretty much live on the wild side here. Did I tell you that once I ate tacos made of eyes and he ate soup made of head? Then just the other day in the market I'm pretty sure I consumed a random sheep body part. No, it was not just a muscle. I think stomach or intestine is more like it. But we like it. We eat what we're given and do no throw up. It makes us happy and they like it too.

Tonight we went out. It's very rare for us to go out on a school night, but some teachers were playing pool. My friend Rachel, who also does not go out much, came too and it was nice. Nic and Rachel killed Mat and I at pool, but it was still fun. Sometimes I made great shots. The deal was that you get an hour of pool and 10 beers for 150 pesos. There were three of us to split the 10 beers and Mat and I had two with our dinner a movie (Darjeeling Limited, quite endearing and silly and full of symbolism) so I'm not going to lie, I'm a little on the tipsy side. But I want to blog every day. It makes my life better. I have missed you all so much, more than I realized. I'm terrible at calling and writing, but blogging feels like a small hand grasping out for my community. That hand strengthens me. Teaching has been much more bearable lately, and I feel lighter. It could be that Obama is now our new president and I feel like I could maybe live in the United States for longer than a year, but I think it's you. You dear friends. I love you and I miss you and I have got to go to bed if I want to be conscious tomorrow.

A couple days worth

2008-11-04T07:07:00.003-06:00

Today: It is currently 7:08 and I haven't left for school yet. Usually I'm there by now. I'm excited for today, not school-wise, but election-wise, life-wise, and hope-wise. What a fabulous, fabulous election time. I am hoping with all my little heart that Obama will win, but no matter what happens, I think both candidates have done a great job of inspiring more people than ever before. Obama does this to people. It is his gift to the world and it is why I want him as my president more than anyone, ever. But McCain has kept up and has run the race and should be applauded for it.

Yesterday: I wanted to blog yesterday and keep up with the blog-every-day thing that Ceri mentioned. (No time to be accurate this morning.) However, I was a cold, tired losery sort of girl after we ate a fabulous Ethiopian lentil stew. I fell asleep at 8:30 or before while studying Spanish flash cards. I do that a lot these days. However, tonight I plan on staying up late and celebrating a new president. There is also small chance that I will stay up late praying for renewed hope, but I feel that the news will be good.

To market, to market

2008-11-02T16:48:00.004-06:00

No, not to buy a fat hog, but to, I will admit, eat like a hog and buy tons of food and spices for cheap. And I mean seriously cheap. Today we bought a kilo of tomatos, a kilo of potatos, a quarter kilo of mushrooms, a cucumber, a couple orange and yellow peppers, ginger, a handful of almonds and raisins, and a lot of different kinds of spices and herbs: fresh cilantro, sage, rosemary and bay leaves, then cinnamon bark, cloves, peppercorns, oregano, cumin and fennel and sesame seeds, cardamom, and nutmeg all for about 150 pesos, which is about $15.

Now Mat brought home a chocolate skull so that, we too, can celebrate Day of the Dead.

All in all, it's been a great day. Much better than yesterday when we spent almost the whole day in bed recovering from the Halloween party.

Now I'm going to look up recipes to use all the great spices we found. I think we'll begin with a great lentil stew.

For Halloween I was the Fairy of Death. At our 5th grade Halloween party in school I let the children touch my collection of body parts. It felt like something my grandma might do. She always arranged very fun treasure hunts and haunted houses for us.

That's about all that's happening now. I just wanted to pop in and say hello. Remember to vote! I know none of you will forget. I hate that I'm not participating in the process this year. I should have gotten my absentee ballot before I left. Still, I'm anxious and nervous for Tuesday. It will be an exciting day. I wish I could be in the states for it. Instead I'll be here. Come down and visit once the excitement settles, and we'll feed you good cheap food.

Cultured

2008-10-22T17:16:00.003-05:00

This week is Global Cultures week at school. While being educational, I'm sure, I do not have to do much of the educating. There are gatherings and presentations and soccer games and the stress of preparing students for presentations. I feel more relaxed than I usually do during the week.

I work at a fake school and have finally come to terms with it. Our directors like to pretend that it is real by making us turn in multiple forms of lesson plans and by discouraging us and making us feel like we are still not doing our jobs well enough. But then when grade time comes we are not allowed to give a student a 5 (the lowest score on their scale) unless they sat comatose in class and turned in nothing. They tell us to, at least in a small way, inflate grades to avoid unhappy parents. Our English grades don't count for anything life-wise. They'll never go on any state records. So while some students and parents care, most don't. So that's that.

I don't enjoy the job yet, but I'm starting to feel better about it. I've decided to let things go a little more. I will just focus on my classroom and trying to help my students learn a few things well. Everything else, I will try to let roll off my back. A few teachers are thinking of quitting. It's a common occurrence at this school and now I understand why. They're so weird.

Outside of school, Mat and I are back at our dancing habits. We're started Mexican Folklore dance lessons. They're pretty rad and pretty much kick my ass. My feet still hurt from last night's class. It involved a great deal of tapping that I do not know how to do. Much to our relief we learned that it is an advanced dance which we will not study until we're in level 3. On Saturday's we go to regular lessons and Tuesday and Friday we are part of a group. We're already in a dance that we'll probably perform sooner than we like.

I miss my digital camera now. I liked posting pictures and now I can't. Maybe I'll give you a tour of our house sometime soon. The water upstairs is out right now. I didn't shower today, but it's all right. I'm not smelly. Mat is cooking dinner and singing with Neil Diamond. I think we're having potato tacos. They smell fabulous. Last night we had tasty greasy tacos after dance. Last Friday after dance I had tacos made from eyes and Mat a pozole made of brain. Very exciting meal. Thankfully we didn't know what we ate til after we finished it.

Dinner is ready. I shall eat now. I hope you all are well. While the last two weeks were crap, I feel great today and am glad. Hmm....maybe Mercury is out of retrograde now. I don't know though now that I don't have my cosmic coop connections. Gosh, I miss them.

Here we are.

2008-09-21T20:23:00.006-05:00

Mat and I are now in Mexico together. He's a bit sick this weekend from a bad egg. It kept us inside for a fair share of the weekend, but today we did get out and find a fabulously mazy market. We bought a basket and a woven mat and coffee from Puebla that is "organic" and ginger and toxic pots. Maybe I will write more about all this later and more details on life in Mexico. However, I'm now tired of sitting in front of this computer. I lost all my music when my hard drive crashed, and much of today has been spent hovering over limewire. It has not been pretty, but I have a lot of Joni Mitchell again and many other lovely female singers. (Yes, I am biased.) Now, I'm off to lounge in bed until getting up, yet again. at 5:30 a.m. to prepare for school.

Here we are exploring the wonders of PhotoBooth.

She Waits at the Computer Shop and Thinks Hateful Thoughts

2008-08-28T19:51:00.002-05:00

On Sunday my computer stopped working. I watched the Spanish version of The Golden Compass, for practice, of course. It wouldn't come out of my computer and froze everything. I couldn't force quit, so I turned her off. There is where we parted ways. She hasn't started up since.

On Monday I went to the Apple repair store, but she was temporarily out and didn't come back by said time. That night I paced around my area like a mad woman desperate for internet and blocked at every turn. The universe and I were definitely having it out. She won. Eventually I settled down enough to cook and make lesson plans I was happy with. Although the best lesson plans crumble in the presence of 5th graders. At least mine do.

On Tuesday I had open house and therefore no time to take her in again.

On Wednesday I went right after school. I arrived there around 3:45. The sign said she´d return at 4:15. It was raining so I found a small place where I could sit and have sopas and coffee and read. At 4:25 I came back. Still not there. Another man was waiting also. We stood together. I read. He waited. After two hours she finally arrived. After another two hours my computer´s problem remained a mystery. Again, I went home empty handed.

This is a lonely and busy existence for me. I do not like Pachuca. The city annoys me and thwarts me at every turn. On occasion he throws me a bone of kindness, but I´m not in the mood for his games. I´d rather kick his ass.

I look forward to the day when I will recant this statement, but for now it is what it is. Knowing the language will help. Not having so much shitty busywork at school will help. The day that my dear 5th graders all listen to the instructions the first time, or even the second, will change me for good.

2008-08-22T21:26:00.003-05:00

I'm eating a chili, mango sucker right now and thinking that I need to get a glass of water. However, the random free internet connection is working now, so I'll take advantage of it while it's here. My typing is clumsy because I chopped off a little piece of skin on my left pointer finger making my simple dinner of tacos. I eat a lot of tacos these days.

I would love to tell you about grand adventures of eating acai berries with handsome, dangerous men. However, my last couple weeks have been just plain busy. I remember why I loved working at The Mill and Open Harvest so much. I did forget about the constant demand of teaching. The constant demands of teaching 5th graders whose first language is not English is another thing entirely.

I'm also remembering tonight the benefits of being in an Adventist environment. No matter how isolated one is during the week, there was always Sabbath, the day you were guaranteed to see people who care about you or at least share the same religious upbringing. I live kind of far from the other teachers my age and, not having a phone, don't keep in touch outside of school and, having a hell of a lot to do, don't keep in touch inside school that much either.

That said. I am all right. I still can't believe I'm actually here, but I like it. My kids are funny. I look forward to teaching them well someday soon.

Donde?

2008-08-10T14:46:00.002-05:00

Mexico!

Yes, my dear ones, I have arrived safely.

Another teacher's flight was delayed, so I'm waiting for the bus to Pachuca.

Oh! There it is now.

More to come...

Oh Mexico

2008-08-01T22:57:00.006-05:00

For the past few days I've had John Taylor's song stuck in my head. I'd type out lyrics, but I don't remember them and they don't really matter anyway. What does matter is that I'm moving to Pachuca, Mexico.

What I am seriously distracted by right now is the fact that Mat has just found and caught three, THREE!, yes, I am serious, three brown recluse spiders in the house. A couple of nights ago I had two large spider bites, one on my back and one on my chest. I guessed that they were brown recluse, but he said they weren't. After tonight I'm pretty sure he believed me. The bites are healing, so we think I'm ok. Still, after finding three we also think it might not be ok. I don't think people should live here. I think this freaking apartment should be condemned. Let the spiders have it.

Overall, I'm just hoping that I don't get sick from the bites because I'm quite excited to go teach in Mexico. I'll be teaching 5th grade general subjects in English. The students have half the day in English and half in Spanish. I don't speak Spanish now, but I intend to learn quickly. It all happened much faster than I expected. I found the job Sunday afternoon and applied. They emailed me and asked to interview me Monday or Tuesday. I interviewed Monday after work and was offered the job later that night. Orientation starts on the 11th, so I fly out on the 10th.

So now I'm not packing because I'm still working too much, but all will get done. I will do the work.

At this moment, however, I will eat pizza with Mat who claims that brown recluses are God's plague towards Adventists. But it could be just towards Katie and I and our heathen ways.

2008-07-13T22:22:00.003-05:00

There are many times I've longed to be alone. After a day like today where I work 12 hours between two jobs, I usually want more than anything to be by myself and have some space.

Tonight Mat's brother picked him up and drove him off to Omaha to help he and his girlfriend move. Today Katie moved out of her side of the apartment entirely. I have all the space I could want and it does not feel nice. It feels empty. I feel sad.

Even though I don't like this, I'm glad you were the first to go, Katie. It seems right that way. A little more fair. Soon Mat and I will leave too. When and to where, I wish I knew. But soon, ready or not, we will go. Until that time, I miss you. I miss your presence in this house. I miss the warmth that you gave this house. Your side had the warmth, mine had the peace, we both had our share of light. I miss your half.

I'm glad we lived together, Katie, and I'm glad I miss you.

Now I've gone and done it.

2008-07-05T17:48:00.003-05:00

I've just finished the first steps in applying for a Secondary English teaching job in the United Kingdom. A couple months ago I told myself daily that I needed to write a new resume and send it out for a teaching job in KC or jobs in LPS, but I wasn't able to do it. A few days ago I completely rewrote my resume in a matter of hours. The next day I sent it out with a cover letter. Today I finished doing the whole thing all over again for their online process. I am reassured in the fact that when something is right and you want it bad enough, you get your ass in gear and do something about it.

Part of me is sad that I didn't want the job in Kansas City or a job here in Lincoln. In both situations I would be close to people I love to be around. I knew that I could do either jobs well and probably enjoy them. But they didn't fit who I am now.

So, hopefully, off I go to the UK. If this happens it will happen very fast. Their school year starts in September. This post is basically to give you forewarning. Should the UK not need or want me, Thailand is in the wings. It seems that Korea and China will always be mad about me, but don't want to go there. Korea and I are taking a break. Plus, Mat probably wouldn't be able to work there. Yes, this time my travel adventure will not be alone. My dance partner will soon become my travel partner. (We're doing very well, thank you.) Life in these United States leaves us uneasy and we both have a travel bug to satisfy. Plus, I recently read (most of) an article in the New York Times Magazine that says Europe has stopped making babies. This article disturbs me. It seems that the United States is having no trouble at all with popping out babies at rates that will increase the total population. But European populations are decreasing. By 2050 if trends continue entire countries would be empty of people. What that says to me is that culture is dying out and the uncultured masses are spawning at unbelievable rates. Pardon me while I vomit. I keep telling Mat that we're going to stay in Europe and find a small city and work on repopulating it. He's quite thrilled.

We need to save places with culture and nature! I've been reading Barbara Kingsolver's book of essays entitled Small Wonder. How I appreciate her and her love of nature, pure nature, nature as it should be, not man-made nature. Yep, cause men totally cannot make nature. She puts things that I've felt into perspective and challenges me to live differently. More purposefully and closer to the earth. I highly recommend her essays...and pretty much all of her novels.

So that's that. Here I am, there I may be. I'm sorry for the long absence. I've missed blogging. Life was good in the spaces. It was pretty much filled with dancing, working, new living situations and spending time with someone whom I like a great deal.

or hear or do.

2008-05-08T16:15:00.003-05:00

A few hours after the kissing couple a woman made a call in line and sang Happy Birthday to her 2-year-old granddaughter. Seriously.

Today I feel off and annoyed with people and myself. I've made several ridiculous yet typical mistakes. I'm just not watching or thinking up to par. I think a few of the customers aren't either. Their indecisiveness irritates me. I cannot make your decisions for you. If you want to drink something here, really, you're just going to have to decide.

I hope dance practice goes better than this. We just learned the tango step. It's pretty hot and full of barely contained passion. I don't know I'm up for it. Barely contained irritation might not cut it.

Things I do not need to see.

2008-05-08T13:13:00.003-05:00

A couple in their 60s walk into the Mill. He fixes his hair in the reflection of the glass as he enters and walks straight to the bathroom. The woman orders a double decaf wet cappuchino for her man. Her man walks out and they kiss exuberantly right in front of the espresso counter. After the third kiss he throws his tongue down her throat right there in front of me.

It reminds me of a certain wedding reception many years ago....

Now

2008-04-29T21:00:00.003-05:00

I've just finished eating a lovely meal of spicy hummus, fresh goat cheese, salad greens, yogurt, bread and a golden delicious apple. I had the same food for lunch. Dinner was just combined in a new way. Half of the meal was free. I love my job.

I'm writing at The Mill which has basically been my living room for the evening. I leave my bike here and my backpack. I come and go and drink and chat with fellow baristas. We're sisterly and giggly, empathetic to each other's pains, joyful with each other's company, eager to listen to each other's stories and dreams and meal plans. I love my job.

I work a lot. Yesterday evening ended a marathon of work which began Saturday noonish. I went back and forth between Open Harvest and The Mill showering and socializing and sleeping in between. Still as I rode bike home yesterday I was overwhelmed with gratitude and the realization that I am finally getting what it means to live.

While relaxing on the front porch of Bread and Cup savoring an absolutely yummy Milkstout, I read the green issue of the New York Times magazine. The first article talked about "going green" and the whys and hows of it, our motivations or lack there of. I'm not going to go into all of it. It was one suggestion that struck me. He suggested that as a change to one's life that they keep the Sabbath as a day of abstaining from technology and electricity and business. Growing up Adventist I am not unfamiliar with the concept of Sabbath and abstaining from all sorts of things from television to swimming. As a result, the Sabbath, when I was a child, sometimes felt like a form of punishment. Yes, it was also a day of eating and being with family and taking naps and going for walks and playing Bible Seek and singing, but there was always the slight tinge of guilt wondering if I was breaking the Sabbath or offending God. At this time in my life I sometimes work on the Sabbath if they need me. I miss the relaxing time of the Sabbath, but the co-op is like my family. If one falls, another is there to pick them up and if I can be there to pick up where someone else cannot, I think it's a good thing. But this new Sabbath, this Sabbath for the earth and my mind, sounds new and exciting. It's a Sabbath that everyone can participate in not with the fear of offending God, but with the knowledge that you're doing something to help the earth and help yourself. For me, it's one step closer to where we're meant to be, close to nature, able to think, able to listen. I wish I would have heard about that in church. I'm glad I'm learning it now.

Anyway...my computer will die soon and I need to attach my new light to my bike so I can ride home more safely. I still don't have a helmet, but soon...soon I might.

A few delightful happenings.

2008-04-14T12:36:00.004-05:00

First: I have begun dance lessons and on the first day learned so much about relationships. The only one I remember addresses the man's hold on the woman. He supports more than holds for if he holds, his partner must pay more attention to her balance instead of her steps. Brilliant.

Second: I had the most fantastic dream one night when I slept at Daniel and Marcy's place after working late downtown. I dreamt that I woke up and went out onto the porch where friends were sitting. The sky was cloudy, but the horizon was clear and there was a vibrant, shimmery rainbow. I pointed it out excitedly and then tried to follow it to its end to see if it was a full one only to discover that the rainbow was actually the tail of a shooting star. The shooting star was just fading out of sight and I was sad about that. Once he faded from view all of the sudden so many little stars starting dancing and moving about! I was giddy with joy! The stars danced and danced and two little ones were twirling and playing rather recklessly. I was worried that they would fall through the atmosphere and get hurt. One did fall and landed right on the couch. He was a cute little creature similar to and Ewok with an ordinary teddy bear plush covering. He walked about the porch and then got it into his head that he wanted to know what water felt like on his skin. So he...I've been telling people that he became a baby, but really he just traded bodies with a baby who was with us. With his little baby body and star creature head, and the inverse baby right behind him, he was running to the shower when I woke up.

Third: When riding bike home from Daniel's house I passed a group of tiny children waiting for the bus. As I rode by, one boy pointed at me and said, "It's the bike lady!" Then they waved sweetly and I threw them a delighted smile. THE bike lady. I might be THE bike lady. How remarkable. My first thought was that I should start wearing a helmet so that when they start riding around and their parents tell them to wear a helmet they won't say, "I don't want to wear one! The bike lady doesn't wear one!"

Fourth: Today the spiritual healer man came into the M and engaged us in happy conversation. He started talking about the energies in places and I told him about our earlier interaction and how he really helped me. I asked him if my pain was better and he said yes. He said that he can tell that I've been submitting, surrendering to God more and that my angel is with me. Wow, oh wow. A circle has been made. I'm growing and healing and so grateful.

Fifth: KICKBALL STARTS TONIGHT! I am so excited to play! 5:30 at Harwood Park! I haven't played kickball since...since...an Andy Nash class in which we played kickball right in front of the D Building and got in trouble for hurting the grass.

I love this life.

Submission

2008-04-08T15:45:00.002-05:00

I need some help here. What is it with men and submission? What is true submission? Whatever it is, I think I have some troubles with it.

I was going to tell a story to illustrate, but as I start to write it I realize that I may be the foolish one in this situation. Maybe it will be good for me to write it anyway. I just fought with my friend. The total breakdown happened when he held out his hand and commanded me to give him my hand. I refused. I refused because I want to be asked and I have asked to be asked so many times. If he wants to give me affection by holding my hand, that's fine. If I want to give him affection by touching his hand, okay. If either of us needs some affection and says, "Will you hold my hand for just a little while? or Can I have a hug?" that is all the better. But demanding the gesture is something I do not like and do not want. So when he says, "Give me your hand," I refuse until he asks or gives. More often than not we fight and remain at a stale mate and he says something about me needing to learn to submit.

If that's submission, I don't want it.

Maybe this situation reflects a lack of trust more than anything.

Which leads me to believe that trust and submission work together somehow.

What do you think?

Sacred Space

2008-04-08T02:56:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago I went to the Eric Peters/Randall Goodgame concert. I heard a song by RG called Jerusalem. On the review that Ben linked to there was nothing written about this song, but there should have been. I am of the idealistic and hopeful belief that it just might bring world peace if everyone sang and believed this song.

I am Jerusalem. I am the temple of the Lord. I am Jerusalem. I am the temple of the Lord. Holy of Holies, the Lord dwells within. Lord God Almighty, maker of men. I am Jerusalem. I am the temple of the Lord.

As he sang, in my mind I pictured men and women and children from Israel and Palestine and everywhere saying, "I am Jerusalem." "I am Jerusalem." "I am Jerusalem." If we all believed we were a holy temple, the holiest of temples, how could we fight over a mere city? How could we destroy each other?

Last week I had a stretch where it seemed I was just going from work to work and not sleeping much in between. On Wednesday night I closed at the M and had to open the next morning. When I got up that morning at 5 a.m. I knew that I would need some extra help. When I opened up my Bible my eyes rested on this underlined verse. "God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day." Psalm 46:5. Oh, thank you, Jesus. Thank you that I, too, am the holy place where the most high dwells (v. 4).

And so are you.

Ready, set, jump!

2008-03-26T00:02:00.005-05:00

Disclaimer: The following blog could be confusing. Within myself I experience a great many meaningful connections which blow my mind into an ecstatic realm of belief and love of existence. Trying to convey them in an understandable way has never been easy. However, tonight with a great deal of joy and, perhaps, the influence of a little vodka and cranberry juice, I shall try.

Trampolines.

We have one in our backyard at home in North Dakota. I am a little nervous around trampolines. Since breaking my ankle I worry about twists. I worry about soaring too high and bouncing off. My bladder sometimes gets too excited and little accidents happen. Trampolines are risky.

Two and a half years ago, the summer after I was run over, I had my first trampoline inspiration. It involved a picture I had in my head of a fall from grace, if you will, similar to Icarus and his fall. Long ago in Greek mythology, Icarus' father crafted a pair of wax wings for him as a way of escaping imprisonment. "Overcome by the sublime feeling that flying gave him, Icarus soared through the sky joyfully, but in the process he came too close to the sun, which melted his wings. Icarus kept flapping his wings but soon realized that he had no feathers left and that he was only flapping his bare arms. And so, Icarus fell into the sea in the area which bears his name..." (Wikipedia) Sad story. Once in a Fitts class I analyzed a poem based on this story "incorrectly" in a paper and received a D. But I digress. The fall I imagined that summer did not involve flapping, but was more of a cannonball through darkness and ended on a trampoline bounce into light. I even attempted to draw a picture of it in my journal. Not pretty, but I'd show it to you if I could.

Within the last six months trampoline ecstasy appears often in my mind's eye. I first remember it when I returned from Sedona. Riding my bike down Sheridan I'd be consumed with great drafts of joy in which I imagined myself jumping, jumping, jumping with glee and open arms on a trampoline. I thought it was because of my Anasazi stone, but lost the stone around Christmas time and still have visions of trampolines dancing through my head. I experienced the sensation in church as well, not because of the sermon, but because I realized while the theme of the sermon was true, there was something beyond it. A point beyond the timeless and sometimes tedious messages we hear over and over. There was a bouncier and freer place and we needed to stop talking and start jumping. Like whoa. Like please, please, please let's jump and stop talking about jumping.

So in my mind I bounce on a trampoline a lot. It's fun and it's the most free and whole I have ever felt.

Then this weekend, struck with a desire from Jesus to make amends and look my friend in the eyes and love her, I drove to Michigan where I went to Mars Hill and heard Rob Bell preach about trampolines and how we're all jumping. He references trampolines in his first book, Velvet Elvis. I'm sorry I don't have a copy here to quote from, but if I remember correctly, he states that belief is more like a trampoline than a brick wall and that everyone is jumping because everyone believes. In the Easter sermon it was more of the same. We're all jumping on some trampoline. Maybe it's not the same trampoline, but it's the same action of jumping. He talked about how he wants to be on the trampoline that has the biggest and most beautiful world view and that's why he is jumping on the trampoline with/of Jesus. To that I say, amen and hallelujah. I think that Jesus is phenomenal and that the way he sees us, sees the world, the way he came to be with us and love us is so freaking fantastic.

During the same Friday night service where I realized I needed to drive to Michigan, I also thought about Mary Magdalene and how much she must have missed Jesus when he was gone, how much her heart must have been broken. Recently I understand more of how she must have felt when people wanted to throw stones at her, but Jesus protected her and picked her up. I imagined how Jesus must have looked in her eyes and had true compassion. True compassion, not condescending compassion, but compassion that understood all her motives, all her actions. How he knew why she did what she did and that's why he loved her. He knew all she had in her, the loyalty, the love, the depth of understanding, the courage and he helped her live all that out. I not only imagined it, but I felt it for myself. That is what Jesus did for me. I drink on occasion, dance and give love and affection generously and Jesus thinks I'm superb and saved and able to change the world. That is what he believes of us all no matter what our story.

And I wonder, why aren't we living like that? When are we going to stop talking about Jesus' compassion and actually live it with each other? Why are we so scared to have that kind of pure compassion and love? Christians talk a lot about the love of God and his never-ending compassion and how we need to love each other like that but then back it up with the reminder that we are dirt and undeserving. How the hell are we supposed to love each while groveling at the feet of God? I say it's time to start jumping. Stop admiring the trampoline. Stop sitting on the trampoline. Get out there and jump. Is it gonna be scary? Sure! Are you going to piss your pants? Probably, but other people will too and it's very funny to share stories of uncontrollable pants wetting. Are you going to laugh? Yes. Are you going to feel like you're flying? Sure thing. And the fabulous thing is the sublime feeling of flight will never land you in the sea. The fall will only send you bouncing back up again.

Are you trackin'? I hope so. Because it's awesome.

Grace and peace, my friends. Grace and peace and kisses and hugs and pure love forever and ever.

Happy Spring and Happy Me.

2008-03-20T08:54:00.008-05:00

i thank You God for most this amazing

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's [and MY] birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

P.S. I don't know anything about numerology, but this sure sounds like a nice way to spend this day.

Today's Numerology Report:
By Julian Michael at JulianMichael.netMarch 20 2008 = 3 + 20 + 1 = 24/6 Universal Day

Embrace the “20” of 2 of “hidden knowledge”. Sing, write, exercise and stimulate your mind and body to get in touch with this beautiful energy of love inside. Be the “1” and explore your infinite possibilities. In your 24/6 embrace your breath; bless the food you eat and the life you choose to live with love.

Amen and amen.

Clear spaces

2008-03-19T15:30:00.003-05:00

I like taking what is mine. Several months ago my recycling box was taken from in front of our apartment. I could only guess that plant services took it unawares, but calling them resulted in nothing.

Then today I left the house to walk to The Mill to work on my resume. Perched on a pile of bricks were two blue recycling bins and one was MINE. I grabbed it and took it back home just daring anyone to stop me. Walking back to The Mill I hoped that someone would stop me and ask me what I was doing with that blue tub so I could tell them that I took it because it's mine. All mine. Feeling sassy and empowered I walked with a smug, yet delighted smile on my face.

You may have noticed in my St. Patrick's Day post that I have a new space in my house. Yes, that lovely wall hanging and chair are where a desk, fridge, filing cabinet and other space cluttering items used to be. Last weekend I rearranged and redecorated, a job that has been a long time coming, largely because Laura helped both Katie and I take back, welcome and rejoice in what is ours.

As you may have read in Katie's blog there was something bad in her apartment. Laura came in and prayed throughout the apartment with us, first Katie's side, then mine, and we sent out death, brokenness, darkness, sloth and welcomed in life, wholeness, light and action. It was an amazing and affirming evening of taking back what was ours.

I've been working towards this kind of cleaning/clearing for quite awhile. A few months ago my friend Will was interested in Feng Shui and arranging his house in that style. We both checked out a book called Space Clearing which gave instructions for clearing out negative energy in your house. It was really interesting and very convincing. He was super excited about trying it, but I wanted to wait and follow all the steps and gather all the tools before rushing into anything. One of the steps was clearing out clutter. That one had me at a stand still. Every time Will wanted to do it, I would make excuses about how I wasn't ready or we didn't have everything we need. Laura reminded me that we always have everything we need because God has given us everything we need at all times. We only have to believe it and take it, own it, live it. Be free.

How to tap a storm.

2008-03-18T23:23:00.003-05:00

I love Open Harvest. Tonight we had an all store meeting. It felt important. We're going through a lot of changes: a new general manager, trying to expand, a whole lot of shifts in positions and new people. We're on the crux of something that we all hope is great, but hasn't felt great to everyone. Tonight's meeting could been tense and full of questions, but instead it was full of listening and people talking about the need for communication and taking steps to make it happen. Open Harvest is phenomenal because the worker/owners (we) care about the store and care about each other and care about well-grown, well-produced food and products. They don't care so much about money otherwise I'm sure they would have found other jobs. What is apparent is that each person values personal growth and helping each other become a better person. There are about a billion different ways we help each other (and sometimes hurt each other) they are as different as all of our backgrounds.

Last week a co-worker told me that I have an storm inside me that I need to tap in to. She said she senses that I'm repressed. I know there is a great deal inside me that I do not always show. Maybe I repress it, maybe I hide it. She said that I'm just looking for positive ways to let the storm out. I know this is true as well. So here's to my inner storm and the ways in which it will manifest itself here and in my living. I don't know exactly how to tap a storm. I've only been taught how to hide from them. If it gets too scary I learned tonight that the bathroom is the best place to wait it out. At least that is the case at Open Harvest should tornadoes blow through.

Happy St. Patrick's Day from our house to yours.

2008-03-17T10:58:00.003-05:00

A missing link.

2008-03-12T23:12:00.003-05:00

Lately I've been having memory trouble. I will think of something that I need to do and when I go to do it, I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Or I have a plan in my head of an order of tasks, but by the time I finish the first, I'm left with only a vague feeling of needing to do something else. My mind is like an annoying person who tries to fake you out by reaching around to tap your left shoulder when they're standing behind your right, leaving you looking around like a fool. I, like a fool, am falling for it every time.

Tonight, I gathered a stack of old Sunday New York Times sections that I wanted to read, but after I put on my jacket, I forgot all about them. Sad. At least I work tomorrow morning and can get them. I would have gone back for them tonight, but I probably would have forgotten why I went back in the first place.

I bought a ginko tea the other day that's supposed to help with memory. I just keep forgetting to drink it.

The hopeful news is that trapped inside this silly mind of mine are a lot of blogs. They'll be pouring out shortly.

Ode to NORTH Dakota

2008-03-10T23:14:00.006-05:00

An excerpt from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins.

"The trouble with seagulls is that they don't know whether they are cats or dogs. Their cry is exactly midway between a bark and a meow.

No such ambivalence exists in the Dakotas. The Dakota sky is all of one piece; the Dakota wind is nothing if not direct; the Dakota dust suffers no identity crisis; the whooping cranes that sojourn twice each year to the Dakotas (where gulls don't dare to fly) know precisely what they are--their inimitable whoops attest to that.

As one might expect of such singular, straightforward, no-nonsense territory, the topography of the Dakotas is almost uniformly flat. Vast vistas of arid grasslands, open and unmodulated, thirsty and exposed, as level and smooth as a child's back before the first slouches and pimples set in, stretch from horizon to horizon like the most lonesome old chord on God's harmonica. Neither from danger nor boredom is there a place to hide. No Pan ever chased a tittering nymph across these solitary plains.

At the western edge of the Dakotas, however, the monotony of the landscape, now gradually tilting toward the Rockies, is interrupted by a topographical turmoil so harsh and wild that humans, with a sense of morality that must amuse amoral Nature, have seen fit to call if the Badlands. The Ziegfeld Follies of erosion, the badlands flaunt their geographical naughtiness in tall, towerlike buttes--heaping layer after layer of tormented rock and soil toward the sky--and sculptured canyons so deep and chaotic they can break a devil's heart.

(In writing about the Dakotas, it is easy to speak of gods and devils, just as in writing about spiritual matters, it is wise to ignore them.)

Between the forlorn prairie pancake and the eerie badlands ruins, there lies a narrow band of humpy hills, green and pastoral. Less than two miles wide in places, this band seems gentle and friendly in comparison to the physiographic excesses on either side of it. Small lakes glimmer in its hollows, and groves of trees are fairly common. To be sure, it collects a full share of summer scorching and winter blizzards; the near-constant Dakota wind extends it no special privileges; thunderstorms as righteously aloof as a B-52 pilot over an orphanage bomb it heavily with raindrops and hail; tornadoes have its number in their little black books and sometimes call. Nevertheless, if it is not quite an oasis, the ribbon of rises is definitely Dakota's sweeter streak. The hills are carpeted with midlength prairie grass. Cows have a tooth for this grass, as the buffalo did before them, and because the soil here is rich in lime, it provides the calcium that grazing animals need in their forage. Thus, the Dakota hills are partitioned into cattle ranches."

Happy Birthday, Jeff!

2008-03-10T10:52:00.003-05:00

Since Jeff is an avid blogger in a variety of places, I thought it appropriate to extend birthday wishes here.

Today Jeff is another year older. I don't know his exact age, but the number of years he has been alive isn't as important as the fact that he lives on. He lives and he writes on.

Jeff cares about people and the earth and living well and lovingly on this planet of ours. He's a good man. So today, to celebrate his living (which is to say the fact that he lives and what his life gives to others) I hope you'll check out his blogs and pass on some love.

Packlight: Jeff's thoughts on life and how to carry it well.
Justice Journal: A cry for justice in this world and how we can help.
Adventist Environmental Advocacy: A collective blog encouraging Adventists in and to action.

Happy Birthday, Jeff! I'm glad you're alive and well.

Once upon a time...

2008-03-05T19:28:00.005-06:00

I finally let my friend Plato take my picture a few years ago.

Now I have a copy of just one of the MANY that were taken.

Thanks, Plato!

Just so there is absolutely no confusion, let it be known that I am eating at Oso Burrito NOT Chipotle.

Back and Sicko than ever.

2008-02-28T16:19:00.007-06:00

Actually, I'm back and better than ever. The pityriasis rosea (click for more info) that took over my body is literally and figuratively on its last leg. What began as a small rough bump on my neck turned into a plague of red, non-itchy spots that moved from my neck to my torso and are now moving down my legs. I've had them since the beginning of December and expect that the last will leave by the end of March. It was pretty terrible. The picture is of its mild beginning stage. It was much, much worse. Red spots covered my chest, stomach back and arms. It's such a relief to not have to wear turtlenecks or scarves and only long-sleeved shirts anymore. You don't even know. Unless, of course, you've experienced them. I think they were so terrible because I was using soap with tea tree oil for awhile. Now that I'm using a milder soap my legs aren't suffering as much as my body did.

Mentally, I also feel that I'm waking up. I'm reading Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins and it has me reeling with ideas and other worlds and the fragrance of immortality. Then last night I saw Sicko at Jone's Coffee for a movie night hosted by the Lincoln Secular Humanist chapter. It pretty much lit me up with sadness and anger. I do not want to live in this country if something does not change with our health care and education. I can't describe how incensed I feel. Have you all seen this movie? If you haven't, it's definitely worth watching. It's not that I totally accept all of what Michael Moore presents as wholly and purely true. He is magnificent at manipulating my emotions (not that it's that hard to do in my case) and getting me to believe everything he says. I'm sure there are some negative aspects of nationalized health care. I think it is possible that some people wait in lines and wait for years for some services and surgeries. However, I think it's more rare than here and without a doubt, less expensive. I mean, it's hard to compete with free. Plus, it's hard to argue with people's stories and he has a lot of stories that convince me that our health care system doesn't work. I cannot believe how much our government denies care to people. It is truly sick and makes me swear in my head and out loud.

I know that Jeff also posted about Sicko. I'd like to go read his post again, but the internet here at Meadowlark isn't working. And now that I'm at home I can't find any posting on it. Jeff, did you write about it or what? And yes, yes I just remembered that I have yet to write on not having a car. I'm sorry. I just don't sit down and write these days. Anyway...

What I came away with after the movie is that if we want things to change in our country, we have to speak up for it. We have to vote, we have to talk, we have to protest and march when necessary. In the discussion that followed the movie a member from the Green Party said that their party is for Universal Health Care and that it's unlikely that either Clinton or Obama will be able to accomplish that with their respective policies. Then a young man reprimanded him for attacking Clinton and Obama. Thankfully, the tension eased up rather quickly, but at that point I realized that no matter who wins, people need to speak up for what they need. One woman commented in the film that the French government listens to the people because it's afraid of the people protesting and marching. They march about everything. In America we fear the government. We rarely speak out or stand up because, as another man said in the film, we are hopeless and demoralized. Hopeless people don't vote.

This is why I love Obama and believe that he can change the policies and practices of the United States. He makes us hope again. Hope enough to vote and, I hope, hope enough to keep talking and working together even after he or Hillary or McCain or anyone else is elected. They need us more than we need them. This is the time to speak out more, more, more than ever. Oh my heart will break if something doesn't change.

Or I'll move. I'm not above world travel.

Until then I'm going to use my voice more and participate in making change where I can. I think the Secular Humanists are going to show Sicko again here in Lincoln. I hope those of you who live here will go. I'll try to stay in the know of when and where it will be and let you know.

2008-02-23T23:34:00.001-06:00

Someday I am going to blog again. I feel it in my bones.

The Holiday Excitement

2007-12-23T14:37:00.001-06:00

A holiday tradition in the Barber household is breaking the Christmas package code. You can watch the drama unfold here.

Check out Mom's Tricky Business at the top of the blog roll.

At the moment I'm slurping Korean ramyeon...

2007-12-02T16:28:00.000-06:00

and getting ready to share some pics with you.

This year I've been doing my best to buy nothing new with my friend Charissa. It's not easy but you find some super stuff.

Like this bag I bought recently whose only downfall is that it smells dreadfully of cigarette smoke and oldness. I'm hoping this will wear off as I love it for its newness.

This chair is magnifico and was meant for me. I could not pass it by. It was a mere $15. Crazy. I had bought the light blue placemat last spring in hopes of making Korean-style cushions, but it works perfectly for covering the small tear at the top.

Then there is the most recent purchase of a new old bike! I went to Re-Cycled about getting the Coast King fixed, but he said it would be better for me to get a new bike. I think this one is perfect he has

baskets and a fender and chain guards and a cute reflector

and a bell and fun emblems.

I'm still playing with names, but I think I'm liking Sir Roebuck, Buck for short.

Me too!

2007-11-26T15:46:00.000-06:00

After reading Ceri's post about taking the long way home, I decided that while I'm here at La Quartier with wireless, I might as well blog about my long way home too. Greg, who is an angel, and I am very serious about this, drove me to work this morning because the bike that was given to me after my bike was beaten has a back tire that does not hold air. So I was left with my feet which I really don't mind because walking is actually quite nice and doesn't take any time at all. Driving takes time because you're just sitting, waiting to get to your next location. But with walking at all times you are where you are. I suppose this is true in all situations, but when walking it's easier to remember. There is something to see, something to think, something to realize, fresh air to breathe, pain to experience. I like it a lot.

So after working the morning shift downtown with Sam, whom I love, and who loves many of you too, I walked to Oso Burrito for lunch. A few weeks ago Karen told me to try their cheese because it's fabulous and because Ellen loves it and, perhaps, would like to bath in it? I can't exactly remember HOW GOOD Karen explained that it was. Anyway, today I had the cheese with a few chips and it is, indeed, yummy. I didn't get the nachos because I absolutely cannot go to Oso without getting a fish taco or fish burrito because I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. I would like to swim with those plump breaded fishy thingys and chipotle creme sauce and lime and yum, yum, yum. Bryant, I think they're even better than fish tacos in Las Vegas. Crazy, I know.

Ok...where was I...yes, I ate delicious cheese and a fish taco. Then I decided to go to LPSDO to sign my last little insignificant paper so that I can sub again next semester. Yep. That means a 44 block walk down O Street. I'd like to make fancy maps like Ceri, but I do not know how. Imagine a straight line down a street beginning at 8th Street and ending at 69th.

On the way, I stopped at the Korean store on 33rd and picked up some Shin Ramyeon for home and dried mangoes for the road. I really feel that I made it to LPSDO in record time. My feet were starting to hurt a little. (I have very thin socks on paired with hiking boots.) I started heading home, but then I remembered that La Quartier was a mere 10 blocks away! So here I am. I've been here for an hour and a half playing games on my computer and munching on chips and drinking tea. Basically I'm stalling for the walk home. I stopped at Payless and got some thicker socks. Hopefully they will help with the blisters that are developing on the bottoms of my feet. I'm also hoping that Ben will be home when I happen by his house in about an hour to, please?, get an Ally McBeal fix. Ben is quite brilliant and somehow found a prettily packaged DVD set that we can play here. God bless us every one!

Ok. I must be off!

Faith Healings and Forgiveness

2007-11-20T16:18:00.000-06:00

Someone beat up my bike and left him for dead, kind of like the Jewish man on his way to or from Jericho. Greg, like a good Samaritan helped me carry his body home. I hope he can be healed, but it's possible he won't. I left him locked at work this weekend because a friend was going to pick him up and give him a tune up. But he got busy and wasn't able to come. At first I thought someone ran him over, but then another friend said that sometimes bike-haters jump on tires and bend the rims. When I went out at lunch to look I saw that he was right. Because I had such a peaceful weekend and feel that all is right in the world or at least might be someday, I didn't cry and I can forgive whoever did this to him and hope that someday they lose their car so that their only option is to ride bike everywhere so they can appreciate what two straight and sturdy rims can do for them. However, I hurt inside when I see the Coast King so vulnerable and broken. I love him, you know.

Doesn't it just break your heart?

The adventurous believer I found was Bryant who is in Las Vegas for nonce. He said if I flew there he'd drive me to Sedona. I couldn't refuse. So I flew to Las Vegas Friday night and wandered the strip just to say I'd been there. Then Saturday morning after tacos for breakfast, we headed out for Sedona with a tentative plan to stop at the Grand Canyon on the way (a plan opted out of because I didn't want to miss sunset in Sedona). We got to town a little after 1 and decided to eat and then call my dad since he wasn't expecting us until later. But as luck or love or God or whatever lovely energy is floating around Sedona would have it, Dad pulled up to unload his Hummer across the street. He took us to park at his friend's house where a turkey and baked potatoes had been prepared for us. Thank goodness we hadn't found a good place to eat. We ate quickly because we thought we'd be going on a sunset Hummer ride, but instead, Dad got the evening off and we watched the sunset and laid on a vortex in the indigo light (the color of love according to John, the artist who cooked the turkey and lets my dad park on his land) while Dad led us in a mediation of forgiveness and love. I forgave Han's mom for refusing to accept me and forgave Han for choosing her. These are things I've forgiven before, but somehow forget and take back as a personal attack against me.

Just to back up a little, in an earlier post I expressed how I was letting go and healing and becoming happier. However, last week I spiraled into sadness again. I cried my way through the first leg of my flight to Las Vegas and was happily distracted by a could be country singer on the last leg. Upon awakening in Las Vegas I felt unexplainably lighter and realized that what I wanted from this weekend was to be happy when I thought of Han, not sad or hurt.

After the sunset, we crashed the AA Gratitude Dinner and were given free tickets. (Oh, the generosity I experienced this weekend.) We got home and went to bed fairly early. I slept in camper and used a sleeping bag Dad gave to me. Yes, for keeps. I could have also slept out on the porch on the queen sized bed they had just temporarily put there, but there was a porch light on so I opted not to. I felt a need to go to the vortex where we watched the sun setting again, by myself. So I told God that if He woke me up in the night that I would go up there or that I would sleep on the porch under the stars. He woke me up at 1:45. I went inside to pee and came back crawled into my sleeping bag to weigh my options. I decided to go back to sleep. Then I had a dream.

I dreamt that I was going out to sleep on the porch. I didn't get out of my sleeping bag, but stuck my feet out the bottom and waddled like a penguin across the porch. But John and Liz (another friend who stays at John's house) were on the porch in the hot tub. I didn't want them to see me so I hopped and shuffled as fast as I could back to the car to pretend like I was sleeping. Liz chased me and caught me and said excitedly, "John's mother wants to know if you've had a faith healing here." Before I could answer (but in my heart I said yes) I looked down to watch a pile of leaves that were swirling in a circle. As they spun they grew and joined together in a round mat. A Native American man was guiding them. Then a ceremony began in a Native American language I didn't understand. One leader would fall and the others would catch him while they chanted. I sat watching in my sleeping bag. Then in front of me, Hiro and Peter, from Heroes started to copy the ceremony. One of the Native American leaders said, "They're doing it wrong. They're not catching each other."

Then I woke up.

At this time it should be obvious that I would get out of bed and sleep under the stars or run to the vortex and skinny dip in energy like I imagined. But no, I stayed in my warm sleeping bag and went back to sleep. Then dreamt (but I didn't remember it.) Then woke up. Then slept and dreamt. Finally I woke up at 6:30, threw on a couple sweatshirts over my pajamas, and walked to the vortex without even combing my hair or looking in a mirror. I felt ashamed for not getting up earlier and disappointed because wouldn't it be so lovely to be naked on a vortex? As penance I saw plastic bags stuck in cacti and felt moved to pick them up. By the time I neared the vortex I had collected 2 bags of garbage and developed an even stronger loathing for plastic and its animal killing capabilities. While walking I watched the steppes awake.

There were several people on the vortex so I climbed a different steppe and stood towards the sun and let the wind blow through me.

Arriving back at home, Dad was just getting ready to get his Hummer ready for the day. John made breakfast, so Bryant and I sat on the porch and ate with John and Liz. I told John my dream and he asked Liz if she had talked to his mother last night. She said that she was too busy obsessing about her mother-in-law. John said asking about faith healings was something that his mother, who had passed on 15 years ago, may have done. He also said her middle name was Hope. Her first name was Bonnie which it turns it, is also the name of Liz's mother-in-law. Liz is also Native American. (Oh the connections....more than I can really describe here.) Liz was smudging herself to get rid of negative thoughts and offered to smudge me too. I, of course, accepted and opened my arms and heart and let the sage smoke blow through and purify me.

At around 9:30 Dad came to get us for his infamous Hummer ride. He drove us around town and warmed up his tour guide stories. The family that joined us was daring and a bit sassy so Dad held nothing back and we climbing rocks and tilted "too" far on two wheels and sped over bumpy dessert roads until our (really their) hair stood on end from the dust and wind power. He told us stories of the Bible and aliens and cowboy movies and Elvis and the love story of Sedona's founders and the love of his parents. It was educational and beautiful and scary.

After the ride Bryant and I hiked and drove around with Gabe and went to the "wheel within a wheel" vortex
while Dad worked.

Before meeting Dad for dinner at his favorite alien cafe, we stopped at a crystal store and I bought Anasazi stones which are said to help with grounding and aligning the self with the Higher Self. Oh, and also with astral travelling and connecting with extraterrestrial energies! I bought one for Amy who really wanted to come, for Dad who I expect to be abducted any time now, for myself so I can remember and a little one for Han who always told me he was an alien. Relationships don't seem like bloggable material, but I wish you could have known him, and I hope you still can someday. I love him, you know.

I used to post Frederick Buechner quotes more regularly...I guess I used to blog more regularly too, although I'm getting back into it. Today's reading in Listening to Your Life fits perfectly with my trip and my return:

"Forgiveness

When somebody you've wronged forgives you, you're spared the dull and self-diminishing throb of a guilty conscience.

When you forgive somebody who has wronged you, you're spared the dismal corrosion of bitterness and wounded pride.

For both parties, forgiveness means the freedom again to be at peace inside their own skins and to be glad in each other's presence."

Exactly what I was looking for and what I'm always finding.

Wanted: Adventurous believer.

2007-11-13T22:19:00.000-06:00

Anyone feel like an impromptu road trip to Sedona, AZ? Seriously. I plan to leave Friday afternoon and return to Lincoln by Monday night. My plan is to see my Dad and experience the healing energy of the anodes and be surprised...or disappointed, but even that can be poignant.

I'll be waiting for your call or comment. ^^

In honor of Ben Y. and Ashley and Ceri and Charissa anyone who cuts their own hair (or tries)

2007-11-08T19:42:00.000-06:00

"Maybe you should cut your own hair
'Cause that can be so funny
It doesn't cost any money
And it always grows back
Hair grows even after you're dead."

From "The Ghost of Corporate Future" by Regina Spektor

Top Ten Day

2007-11-08T19:08:00.000-06:00

1) Before my morning commute I watched this clip that Jeff posted on his blog. People are beautiful.
2)Nebraska is behaving perfectly autumnly so
3) when I walked to Open Harvest to get my bike it was lovely and
4) Curried Pumpkin was the soup of the day so I got some for lunch and rode downtown to work where
5) the espresso machines were consistently pulling good shots and the dishwasher was cleaning the dishes well and
6) Sam said, "It's a top ten day." and another customer said
7) "Thanks for a great day. This (The Mill) is the best coffee shop in the country." (No, he's not from Lincoln. He's actually from Washington, D.C. and travels to interview people.)
8) After work I stopped at Open Harvest again for a garden burger and broccoli cashew salad and
9) MEXICAN CHOCOLATE CAKE and
10) read a bit of Moloka'i by Alan Brennert, which I had just checked out at the library, only to discover that I think the protagonist's family is Adventist because they talk about Sabbath School. I'm intrigued by what their story may be.

Home for the Healings

2007-11-07T19:34:00.000-06:00

I didn't want to work at the Prescott Mill today. I was scheduled to work downtown and had made a plan around working downtown and was excited about collecting my tips that were downtown and, yes, excited for better tips downtown. So when she called to trade I wasn't excited. I was a little annoyed and said so, but I didn't say no. To Prescott I went.

Last night Katie was feeling crafty and made some tip signs for us. One said, "God knows when you don't tip." in honor of the magnet that said that but was taken. The other said, "Want good Karma? Tip!" That was the one that was on the jar today. A feisty sort of customer argued that tipping actually had nothing to do with karma, but gave us 25 cents because we smiled at him and listened to his ranting.

Time passes.....

The tip-man comes to buy some bulk coffee. I ask how is afternoon is going and if his karma is getting better. He begins talking about different things that make karma better and that tipping is not in that list. We continue to the cash register.

"When the line was long I wanted a cookie, so I grabbed one. I'm telling you now so I can pay for it. That's good karma."

"That's honesty."

"It's getting busier again."

"People must be drawn to you. You must have good energy."

"Yes, I'm like a magnet. Actually I do have good energy. I used to be a spiritual healer in California."

"Really? How's my energy? Do I have good energy?"

"Yes. You have good energy, but you are carrying some pain from someone you healed. I can see it right there," he says as he points over my left shoulder. "You need to get rid of that," he continued, "You need to let it go. With Jesus or God, you need to let it go."

I almost started crying in the midst of the rush. Because you see, I am carrying pain, and I realized about a month ago that I carry it in my shoulders. He said it's the pain from someone I healed, that I healed! I've wondered for quite some time now if, perhaps, I am able to help others heal. I can't say confidently that I'm a healer, but I believe I have potential.

After that interlude and putting together pieces of my life, I was ecstatic. I have been so sad since Han and I broke up. I am carrying that pain and I'm scared to let it go because I don't want to let him go. I'm afraid to lose him and I wanted so much to keep him. But I realize that he is healed and that's what needed to happen in our time together and now I need to let the pain go. Maybe, just maybe, I am not as broken as I thought I was. I'm just tired of carrying this pain and I need to have a talk with God about how to let it go.

So that's where I'm at friends. I'm here in Lincoln to find some healing and let go. God is giving me fabulous reminders in unexpected places and I'm thankful. I'm thinking that I need to head to Arizona and visit my dad and spend some time with the untamed energy and open myself up. I'm also wondering if Lincoln, perhaps, has some energy vortexes of its own.

I'm glad I worked at Prescott.

Dear almost stranger, almost friend,

2007-11-06T22:59:00.000-06:00

If I knew where to find you, I would. I would go there or call there. I would speak or write or record a message asking, "Can we be friends? Would you like to hang out? You've been coming and going for days now and it's killing me."

You gave me hope and acceptance and good conversation when I needed it most. If I never get to tell you in person (but I hope I do). Thank you.

Employed and other adventures.

2007-09-26T14:20:00.000-05:00

As of today I have two jobs. Tomorrow I start training at both the Mill and Open Harvest. When I came back to Lincoln I promptly sent off my information to renew my teaching certificate. They said it would be 6-10 weeks before they even looked at my application. The slowness of all things teacher related in Nebraska frustrated me. But the eternal knack Aubrey and I have for finding each other in any country led to Josh letting me know about Mill openings and returning to volunteering at OH led to them finally interviewing me (but I'm pretty sure admitting that it might be nice to be a Paw-paw secured me the job). I'm a fortunate girl to be able to work in two of my favorite places in Lincoln.

I've also been partaking in the joys of being "half-Korean." Yesterday was Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) and I made song-pyeon all by myself. (see photo below) I'm proud. Josh, Aubrey and Katie all liked it, so I consider it a success. I also gave some to the owners of The Panda Garden. They made such wonderful Korean food for us. Oh, rice with vegetables in a stone pot (Dolsot bibimbab) I love you.Other than that I spend a lot of time reading, practicing Yoga and watching Heroes. Not a bad life.

Current read:Recent reads:

Why I like him so much.

2007-08-19T10:31:00.000-05:00

Tonight Han and I gorged ourselves with kimbab, mandu, yubuchobab, a hoagie, kimchi, potato sticks and Mr. Bigs on a romantic picnic at the Cheongyecheon (a stream). The evening was cool and the sky clear. We ate, talked and analyzed other couples. We soaked our feet in the cool stream which, an older couple told us, was good for our circulation because the stream is moving. But my heart was won when Han picked up a random plastic cup and put it in our trash bag. Later, when I saw a tissue hanging on a branch on the other side of a railing, I confidently commanded, "If you love me you'll get that tissue and throw it away for me."

"Girls usually use that saying for beautiful flowers."

"Please?"

He gallantly flexed his muscles, then threw one leg over the railing and, ignoring the glare of the woman he almost kicked, climbed over.

"Wow!" I exclaimed.

"It's not that big of a deal," he deadpanned.

He neatly removed the tissue from the bush and I threw it away. I kissed him and we continued our search for pattbingsoo, picking up trash on the way.

Last weekend we went to the East Sea

2007-08-18T03:22:00.000-05:00

Yes. We have couple t-shirts. They're traditional okay?

I like...

2007-08-16T01:26:00.000-05:00

...the way modge podge peels off my fingers in thin rolls like dead skin rolls off when scrubbed at the jjimjilbang.

...it when baristas create hearts or leaves on my caramel lattes or 'chinos.

...being able to read for hours and hours and finish a book.

...it when a book changes my world into a new and more loving world.

...the East sea because it's cool and beautiful and Seoul is so, so hot.

...going to movies at midnight and walking with Han in the wee small hours of the morning.

...remembering what I love about Lincoln even though it will break my heart a little to leave here.

...blogging instead of doing my grades right now.

I bleed.

2007-08-01T03:19:00.000-05:00

A piece of glass slipped into my Chacos like small, annoying pebbles sometimes do and stuck in my foot. Han pulled out the small shard and immediately a lovely dollop of blood formed. I haven't seen my blood much now that I haven't been to the hospital for a while. It looked so bright red and healthy. I kept walking and soon the blood coated the bottom of my foot. It was a little slippery and strange feeling. I've never walked on my own blood before. Although the injury was small it felt a bit tragic. Han moved quickly and found a pharmacy where we bought some gauze and hydrogen peroxide. Then he gently washed my dirty, smelly and bloody foot.

Love is grand.

Death threats and such.

2007-07-31T19:39:00.000-05:00

Yesterday when I walked into my C9 junior class Helena looked at me coldly then slowly and purposefully slid a gun from her bag and pointed it straight at me. Yes, this is the same one who points at me and says, "Who are you?" To others, she pointed the gun smilingly, as if it were a joke, but with me she was all seriousness. (Until I started laughing nervously.) I think she likes me. I hope she likes me. Otherwise I'm in trouble.

I'm sure you've heard about the Korean hostage situation in Afghanistan. It's tragic and leaves most feeling quite hopeless. We talked about it for a bit in my religion class. They believe that all we can do is pray.

I'm currently reading Three Cups of Tea. It's phenomenal. I highly recommend it. Kayla gave it to me for my birthday, but I didn't start reading it until now. The timing couldn't be better. His story gives me a more balanced view of Pakistan and Afghanistan and the people there. His methods of peace are the best I've heard of. Education is a beautiful thing. Compassion and building bridges are much more effective than war.

Oh, and has anyone been listening to the Mars Hill sermon series lately? It's called "God is Green." It's good! Check out their website. You can download the sermons or subscribe to their podcast on itunes.

Today is test day.

2007-07-25T03:45:00.000-05:00

Test day is my second favorite day. I just ask the kids a couple of questions. They stare at me blankly or recite a perfectly memorized answer. There are some exceptions to the rule. I love it when they understand me and answer well. It's a beautiful thing.

I was so tired today. I almost fell asleep between tests. Hopefully the green tea in a can that I just finished will give me a lift.

One of my students scares me. She gets this odd sort of twitch when she's speaking English and when she looks at me I don't know whether she's scared or is plotting ways to get rid of me. Today I passed her on my way back to the school. She stared for a moment then pointed her finger at me and said, "Who are you?!" Weird.

Today is story day.

2007-07-24T03:38:00.001-05:00

I love story day. It means that I finish my junior classes 20 to 30 minutes earlier than usual. Our junior classes here consist of going to two different classrooms for about 20 minutes each and doing sundry teaching activities, mostly consisting of listening and repeating. The teaching is mindless, really. I should plan, but I don't. The main reason being that every day I would be prepping for 10 different classes. Crazy. So I just do my best to be enthusiastic and speak English well and that's all they really want from me.

Today I got a new book for studying Korean. It's by the same author as my Survival Korean book. I trust them. I feel happy when I study Korean with those books. I feel like it just might be possible for me to someday speak Korean passably well. I'm excited to start studying. I'm sad that I'll have a little less studying time with Han though. They told me today that they need me to start teaching a 10 a.m. class in August. Boo.

Walking down the sidewalk here is a chore. The air is thick and sticky.

I'm sorry I can't edit or organize better. I feel like I'm writing crappy first drafts. I, too, am an eeker, but in order to communicate I must gush.

I just keep deleting everything I type. Gushing takes practice.

A peaceful and earthy looking womans runs a small coffee shop down the street. I love her. She moves slowly and smoothly when making my Caramelchino. I feel better just watching her. Her name is Me-teu-ri. It's the Korean word for traditional shoes that common people wore in the past. She chose it because she wants to remember to be humble and serve with action, not just thoughts. One day I had a few extra hours so I went there to study, but failed to study at all. First, I met her son. She sends her children to alternative schools and teaches them at home--a rare find in Korea. After her son left we continued talking and I discovered she used to teach at an alternative school, but took a break and opened a coffeeshop. I felt that I found a soulmate.

And now my time is up. I'll continue the experience tomorrow...

2007-07-23T03:52:00.000-05:00

oh friends, hello. that is, if you still check here once in awhile. i have 15 minutes and i've decided to use them well. due to the lack of internet access in my house and the lack of my presence there as well, i haven't blogged. however, in my spare moments in the staff room, i try to check all your blogs once in awhile because i miss you.

all is going well here. i teach at 7 and 8 a.m. then i usually spend time with han until around 3:15 or so. after that i teach from 4 p.m. til 9:15 p.m.

i teach juniors and it drives me crazy. i know that means nothing to most of you.

my 15 minutes are up and i've written nothing. i'm sorry.

i'll be back.

Happy Anniversary.

2007-07-07T01:34:00.001-05:00

My friends, my fellow travelers, my church, I love you and I wish you many more happy adventures. I'm glad you're together.

The best shirt ever!

2007-05-25T17:42:00.000-05:00

Katie told me a few days ago that she bought a gift for me and she couldn't wait until it arrived. I was excited, but I'm skeptical about gifts, I guess, because deep down I questioned how great it could be. But last night when I pulled it out of the bag, I was ecstatic! It's perfect!Even though it's not necessarily professional, I wore it today. I couldn't resist. Thank you, Katie.

A few of my favorite people.

2007-05-24T19:24:00.001-05:00

My family.
My siblings.
My fingers.
My boyfriend.

밥 먹었어요?

2007-05-24T09:25:00.000-05:00

네!
Translated literally, the title says, "Did you eat rice?" But it's used to ask if you've eaten in general. I used it because, yes, I have eaten rice. Last night I made 참치 김밥 (tuna kimbab) with miso soup for the first time in months. It's not as good as Smile's 참치 김밥 but I ate it and liked it and am eating it again for breakfast.

I'm preparing myself to go to back to Korea. I leave on June 24!

Today was a good day.

2007-05-19T09:37:00.000-05:00

First of all, I talked to Han before I went to sleep yesterday, then again before I left to meet Katie at the Farmer's Market this morning.The Farmer's Market is an intensely happy place where we ran into friends and church members from both our churches. Plus, they had live music and it felt like church as we listened to the soulful songs of consuming fire. It's good to hear people sing about Jesus with rhythm and soul.I bought a pie for our picnic and held it as I rode my bike to Ben's house. All went well until my hand slipped and the pie shifted in the bag. Katie went to get a car to take the mangled pie home.Then we had an awesome picnic. We had hot dogs and chili and corn on the cob and homemade salsa and artichoke dip and fruit gloop and pie.After that we lounged and played piano. In the evening we went to play beanbags.Of course, since we were basically there already, we walked to Ivanna Cone for ice cream. But don't worry Ben and Ashley, we'll still go again with you tomorrow!

I also talked to Han again before writing this. Seriously, it doesn't get much better. Spring/Summer in Lincoln is usually like that.

Inspiration

2007-05-18T22:26:00.000-05:00

I will admit that when I read this it, for a moment, struck me as arrogant and sacreligious. But when I let it sink in I see how God is huge and beautiful and here.

48

I have said that the soul is not more than the body,
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is,
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own
funeral drest in his shroud,
And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the
learning of all times,
And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it
may become a hero,
And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheel'd universe,
And I say to any man or woman, Let your soul stand cool and composed
before a million universes.

And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God,
For I who am curious about each am not curious about God,
(No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and
about death.)

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,
Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd
by God's name,
And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe'er I go,
Others will punctually come for ever and ever.

Walt Whitman

shining, happy people eating ice cream

2007-05-15T22:03:00.000-05:00

Our favorite Saturday evening activity made even more special because

Charissa (glowing just thinking about eating ice cream)Grandma, Curt, Aunt Cindy
Tyler, Ashley
Amy, Brett
Mom, Uncle Gary, Dad
Klaralyn, Daniel
Ben, Ben
Ben and Ashley again because they're so darn cute,
Jeremy, Krissy and friends (sorry I don't remember your names)
and I gathered to eat ice cream and celebrate being together for Jeremy's graduation.
Congratulations, Jeremy!
Thanks Ivanna Cone!

And special thanks to Ben Y. for the fabulous new layout inspired by the uplifting tape from Korea. I'm grateful and again inspired to post. You're swell, Ben.

Speaking out, Part 2: What I wish I would have done.

2007-04-29T20:35:00.000-05:00

Going back to April 25, I found out later that night that it wasn't my student who made the threat. I was relieved, but still determined to be more aware. A girl was arrested for the act.

Then I when making my lunch in the staffroom the next day, I overheard a conversation about whodunnit. I learned that the girl who did it was average and had friend. I learned that my student was in the office because he was accused of making the threat and was so angry about the accusation that he punched a wall or window or something. I felt annoyed and uncomfortable with the tone of the conversation and left soon after my lunch was made, but I wish I would have asked, "Why does it matter whether or not the girl was a loner?" And I wish I would have said something to defend * after the other teacher threw out her judgments.

Speaking out.

2007-04-25T17:31:00.000-05:00

"But let him take heart. He is called not to be an actor, a magician, in the pulpit. He is called to be himself. He is called to tell the truth as he has experienced it. he is called to be human, to be human, and that is calling enough for any man. If he does not make real to them the human experience of what it is to cry into the storm and receive no answer, to be sick at heart and find no healing, then he becomes the only one there who seems not to have had that experience because most surely under their bonnets and shawls and jackets, under their afros and ponytails, all the others there have had it whether they talk of it or not. As much as anything else, it is their experience of the absence of God that has brought them there in search of his presence, and if the preacher does not speak of that and to that, then he becomes like the captain of a ship who is the only one aboard who either does not know that the waves are twenty feet high and the decks awash or will not face up to it so that anything else he tries to say by way of hope and comfort and empowering becomes suspect on the basis of that one crucial ignorance or disingenuousness or cowardice or reluctance to speak in love any truths but the ones that people love to hear."

I am not a preacher, but I am a teacher and as I read this I read it also for teachers. I, too, must tell the truth every day. So I will make a confession.

Today I failed a student. I guess I don't know for sure that I failed him, but I suspect that I did. (At this moment on NPR they're talking of how teachers are failing students lately.) Today there was a Code Red No Response in school. They found a note in the bathroom that said someone was going to blow up the school at 10:30. They checked it out and found no danger and there was no explosion. At lunch time I stopped in the office to leave a note about a student who was looking at a handgun catalog in class and refused to turn it over to me. He said all his other teachers let him keep it and even administrators approved of it, but I thought it should stay out of school and felt I needed to let someone know about it. While there I saw one of my students I had earlier in the day in the office. He was getting suspended/fined for disturbing the peace. I expressed my condolences and reminded him to treat women well. (He recently got a tattoo that said MOB which stands for "Money over bitches." In class we talked about how I thought that was demeaning to refer to women like that. When he likes a girl, he calls her his bitch, when he's mad, he calls her a bitch. It doesn't make sense, nor does it make women feel valued.) Then I went on my way and finished teaching the last two classes.

It wasn't until I was walking home that I wondered if he was the one who wrote the note. If it was him, he put the note in the bathroom when he left the room in MY class. He did that when I was responsible for him. During that class he did nothing. Some students had come in the room to talk to another teacher and he was talking to them, and not about appropriate subjects. Sometimes the other teacher would even make fun of the students or jokingly punch or swat at them. (I don't know how to describe it, but I didn't like it.) I wanted to ask them to leave, but I didn't because there were two other teachers in there. Since they were regular teaches, I let go of my power and responsibility because I was the sub. But I shouldn't have. I should have defended his right to an environment where he can succeed and learn. If he would have been studying and not talking with the other group, I am absolutely sure he wouldn't have put that note in there. I don't know if he did it; I can't be sure. He gets suspended often. But I feel bad that I failed him today because I wasn't brave enough to speak out.

Stories

2007-04-23T18:18:00.000-05:00

Yesterday at Grace Chapel I learned something new. Maybe it's not exactly new, but I saw an old story in a new way. The pastor was preaching on Luke 8: 1-21. I was reading The Message at that time, so that's what I'll use for reference.

To start the sermon, he asked what the gospel is. People shouted out their thoughts. My answer, which I whispered to Katie, was that God is here. The pastor said that the gospel is the coming of the Kingdom of God in Jesus.

So in Luke 8 Jesus tells the story of the parable of the seeds. Afterwards the disciples ask Jesus why he's telling these stories and what in the world the story means. Jesus tells them that they already know the secret of the Kingdom, but to the people, He needs to tell stories. I'd never understood how the disciples have all the secrets because, obviously, they don't even know what the stories mean. All the sudden I realized that they knew the secret because they were with Jesus all the time. They lived with Him. They saw the Kingdom in action all the time. But the people didn't have that. They saw something new in Jesus, so they came, but the secret isn't something you can learn in a sermon, it's something you have to live. So Jesus tells stories. In an oral society stories spread. People gather for the stories. Jesus leaves them with stories that have meanings that are hidden, and if the people are curious, they'll tell the story over and over to figure out the meaning.

So when He follows the seed story with the lamp story He's telling them to not keep the story a secret, too tell it, to be generous. When they tell stories, people will gather and there will be community and the Kingdom will come, a Kingdom stronger than the earthly bond of family.

It's not really different from what I've known before, but somehow it became more clear and more personal. It felt good, especially since I couldn't understand exactly what the pastor was trying to say.

Day of Silence

2007-04-18T06:48:00.000-05:00

Two years ago, I participated in the Day of Silence. Today it wasn't possible to be silent and substitute teach, so I wore my t-shirt and educated my 8th graders. The Day of Silence is a silent protest for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. Students who participate hand out "Speaking Cards" which say: - "Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement protesting the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by harassment, prejudice, and discrimination. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward fighting these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today."

What are you going to do to end the silence?

The Annual Update

2007-04-17T19:07:00.000-05:00

Two years ago yesterday, I was run over. It was a Sunday afternoon. I had just finished taking my turn in Mom's weekly Sunday call. I was happy and exultant. The night before I'd stood up for myself, and now I was ready to run 11 miles to train for the half-marathon. The first mile, for the first and only time, was fabulous, enjoyable even. Then the next thing I knew, I was on the ground confused and in pain. A woman was talking to me, telling me that everything was all right.

Then began my 27 day stay at the hospital that changed my life. I don't know why, but being run over is not a bad memory for me. It's a precious memory of, what I remember to be foggy, yet bright days in the hospital. Friends and family were almost always there. Ben brought his guitar and sang on Sabbaths. Students came to visit and played Uno on occasion. A kind recovery nurse took me outside for an afternoon on the grass with my mom. One doctor shaved my leg when I couldn't stand the hairiness anymore. Another doctor made me laugh, accused me of being a right-winger, and told me I was fine even when I felt terrible. A psychologist helped me realized that no matter where I am, I am loved. A random doctor sang me a song. Kayla and John brought me a hamburger and fries when I was starving. A friend's mom send me an orchid that hovered like an angel over my head. Amy spent the night with me. Ben ran the marathon for me. My mom rarely left my side and drove all night to come stay with me after I broke down without her around. There were also moments of terrible constipation and hallucination and vomiting and boredom and sadness. I remember those times clearly as well, but somehow they only add strength to the good times.

Before the accident I was sure I was headed for a full-time teaching position in Lincoln Public Schools. (The sub who subbed for me now teaches at Southeast.) But after the accident I went to Korea, and as a result of going to Korea I found a love better than I ever imagined. I have no regrets, no resentments, only gratitude for life and for family and for God who brings all things together for good. Who can fathom it?

Now for the pictures. If you get queasy easily, you might not want to look. Yesterday in school, I told the students of my anniversary and showed several classes my scar. On the bus I heard one of them tell his friends that I have a "nasty scar." I, however, think she's pretty fabulous.

I'll start from the beginning:

A few days after the accident. It's very fat.

After the first surgery to drain fluid from my leg and remove some dead spots of skin.

The back of my leg as the skin continues to die. Where it's black, the skin is dead.

After 8 or 9 surgeries in which they removed all the dead skin.

Same view. There is also a layer of Integra on my leg at this point. It got a little infected, so I had dressing changes and intensely painful whirlpool sessions every two days? maybe more?

After the skin graft. The bloody stripes are the donor sites.

Skin graft healing process. This was almost a month after the skin graft.

The following are all the angles of what she looks like today.

ms. barber at your service.

2007-04-09T19:44:00.000-05:00

today i felt like a kick-ass teacher. i taught 8th grade english. the first three periods i had co-teachers and with their help all went smoothly, but the note warned me of 6th and 7th periods. other teachers warned me of them as well. "they're a difficult bunch." "if any of them are a problem, just send them over to me." i nodded and smiled.

6th and 7th periods came and they were indeed chatty and rather obnoxious classes. they all talked at once and didn't listen to each other. they made rude random comments. i couldn't help anyone because i couldn't hear anyone. but with a soapbox speech and specific instructions on what i expected of them in a very firm voice, both classes pulled themselves together and worked perfectly. i must admit, they charmed me, and i adored both classes by the end of their respective periods. ah, it makes me glad to be a teacher and i long for my own classroom. it could be a beautiful thing.

now i feel like a sleepy slob. all that teaching wore me out, and i almost fell asleep on the bus. when i got home, i took a two hour nap. i accomplished making some lentil curry for supper and doing a few dishes, but i still have laundry to put away and have no energy for that. maybe after i eat i'll feel more motivated.

today's news

2007-04-03T17:19:00.000-05:00

you may remember my earlier blog about my neighbors who ran out in the snow naked. well recently there was an accident in lincoln involving four teenagers. all of them were 17. two of them went to lincoln high. one of them attended north star. the driver wasn't enrolled in school. as a result of the accident a girl died. she was riding in the back and, i hear, went through the windshield. she died from brain damage. well, today when i read the story in the newspaper, i realized that the driver, who was charged for manslaughter, is my neighbor. he lives in the apartment of the naked runners.

if you read the comments on the article, you'll notice that most people blame the age limit for drivers or the parents. looking at his record, i'm pretty sure that an age limit wouldn't have stopped him from driving. given the area of town we live in, i'm pretty sure he didn't live with his parents, and i doubt they have much say in his life. from what i've seen in schools, even if his parents said something, there's no guarantee that he'd listen.

in a reading elements class today we talked about the article in the newspaper. to summarize our discussion i gave them a some suggestions on how they should a) always wear seatbelts, b) not drive with someone who has multiple tickets and a reputation for accidents, c) never, ever drive with someone who is drunk or high, d) never, ever drive while drunk or high, e) not drive unless they really know how. when we came to the part about not driving with someone who's drunk or high, they gave me some lame excuse about how you can't control your actions when you're drunk. that's true. if you're wasted, that is an entirely true statement. so don't get wasted. don't drink so much that you can't think. make an attempt to keep thinking instead of drinking so much that you're able to blame alcohol and not take responsibility for your actions. i feel like students give up so easy these days. i can't help but think it's because they have no one at home who's believing in them and holding them accountable. they don't have people who are helping them be responsible.

i know that this is does not apply to all students, maybe not even the majority of students. since i jumped in the sub-pool (for substitute teaching) late in the game, i'm pretty sure i've been getting a lot of the jobs that everyone usually rejects. almost all my jobs are in schools that subs typically avoid or in LD or BD classes, so i work with a lot of kids who are challenging. and while i feel crazy at the end of the day, i also love it. i love my job, and i adore those kids, and i want to shake them, and i want to yell, and i want to hug them until we break through to a haven of peace where they'll feel safe enough to be kind instead of defensive and bristly and terrified. maybe someday we can even all live in a Garden where it's safe to run around naked (in a clothed-in-light sort of way) in the snow.

all things missed

2007-03-31T10:51:00.000-05:00

the bus: i missed my bus this morning. this happens to be a very important bus. my church bus that only runs once an hour. no, it's not sponsored by the church or anything; it takes me to church. however, missing that bus allows me to write because i also missed

you: my computer was out of commission for two full weeks. whoa. it was a difficult time. i missed blogging and emailing and skyping. i'm quite skype dependent. i also missed paying my bills online and searching for things. but gigi is back now and better than ever. i can now use quicktime and, i'm guessing, various adobe applications. but i especially missed

my music: right now i'm listening to david crowder and my heart feels good. much better than it did last night when the neighbor below me was blasting toni braxton as his baby-making serenade. i almost called the police because my peace was definitely being disturbed, but i decided against it because i'd like to be safe in my own building. however, a note shall be written. i cannot endure that EVER again. i need to get going now or i will miss

my ride: my brother is picking me up for church. i'm thankful. i enjoy our sabbaths together. they are something i never want to miss.

yes, folks, it's true.

2007-03-01T11:26:00.000-06:00

today is a snow day. i'm not particularly excited about this one. i started working yesterday and was totally excited to work today, but here i am. thus far, i've used this extra at-home day to talk to my man, eat some soup, finish watching narnia, take a nap (and dream of being in a library on a snow day), receive a phone call from ben saying that emily would brave the weather to pick me up for the snow party, and i just found out from one of those fabulous email forwardy things that i usually delete that...

I am KATHERINE HEPBURN:
I am smart, a real thinker.
Every situation is approached with a plan.
I am very healthy in mind and body.
I don't take crap from anyone.
I have only a couple of individuals that you consider "real friends".
I teach strong family values, keep your feet planted in them, but don't overlook a bad situation when it does happen.

not too shabby. i'd like to watch one of her movies now.

now for the real excitement. the other day i got my new recycling box. i fill it with all the toxic plastics and other recyclable items, put it out by the dumpster once a week and viola! it's out of my hands and into someone's who can use it for good.

but the box was dirty, and the only place to wash it was my bathtub.

i soon discovered that the box was not dirty with dirt, but with grease. my bathtub was a mess and ended up looking like this even after i scrubbed madly. what's a girl to do?

well, i'll tell you.

not long ago my friend ben yancer heard that pumice stone cleans nasty toilet rings. he tried it and it worked. i figured it could do the same for my porcelain bathtub.

after 45 minutes and the greater portion of the pumice stick, this is what i got. lovely. it's not perfect, but i'm pretty sure it's cleaner than when i moved in. plus, because i cleaned with bare feet my callouses are smoother too.

thanks, pumice.

Happiness

2007-02-20T13:56:00.000-06:00

without a doubt, this is my favorite song for the moment. it makes me want to jump up and dance around my apartment. the weepies often have that effect on me. but i jive with this song because my identity was stolen recently and because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter that my identity was stolen. i'm not defined by those numbers.

Friday 13, lights go red, green, in a coffee shop.
I'm giving you the look while someone else is fingering your wallet in my pocketbook.

It's a mean town but I don't care.
Try and steal this. Can't steal happiness.

Got a charger, no cell phone. I can't call out unless it's to cry your name out the open window to a sky that looks right back and says it's never seen rain.
Sometimes you gotta start clean. You gotta begin not begin again. Oh no.

It's a mean town but I don't care.
Try and steal this. Can't steal happiness. Happiness. Happiness.

And as we fly around the sun we know we're not the only ones.
Love for the lonely it's been a long time coming.
Can you hear that hopeful heart?

Night settles, still working on a way to breathe.
Don't you go, don't you go down. Take a helium taxi home to me.

Cuz it's a mean town but we don't care.
Try and steal this. Can't steal happiness. Happiness. Happiness.

something else i was thinking of recently.

2007-02-13T22:26:00.000-06:00

when walking to the post office last week i made eye contact with two girls. one said hello and that they were out "talking to people about Jesus Christ...and the book of mormon." then they asked me if i'd ever read the book of mormon. i said no, but that i knew Jesus. "i'm seventh-day adventist." i added.

after i said it, i wished i hadn't. what does it matter that i'm seventh-day adventist? what does it matter that they're mormon? let's talk about Jesus anyway. let's just talk about Jesus. as it was, we smiled and went our separate ways.

i think a lot about the "so that" principle mr. blake taught us back in my union college days. so that. why do i live the way i live, choose the things i choose, say the things i say? what result am i looking for? mr. blake suggested that everything we do should be so that we can love better. i agree. i want to be a better lover. (i heard union makes some of the best.) so when i'm thinking about my beliefs, my religion, i want to make sure that i believe, that i follow, so that i can love better, not so that i can put up walls.

i feel like i lost my point a little, but what i'm trying to get out is that i wonder sometimes if religion helps people love better. does being a seventh-day adventist help me love more? i know that believing in God makes me a phenomenally better lover, but i don't know if religion does, and i don't know what to do with that.

a change in the weather, kind of.

2007-02-13T10:10:00.000-06:00

i guess the recent warm spell on sunday was so that it could snow on monday. it sounds like it's snowing a lot around the states. k-pup almost had a snow day in d.c. my dear cousins in pittsburgh (one of them the submitter of "aflac aflac aflac...") are enjoying some snow play on a snow day too.

this weekend ben and ashley and i took a trip to i-o-way to hang out with amy and tim for an evening. here are some pictures of the sweet action.

i see naked people.

2007-02-12T22:20:00.000-06:00

tonight while talking to kayla on the phone i heard some yelping outside. i was curious, but resisted the temptation to peek. when it started again, i lifted one slat of my blinds and looked out. standing on their porch were two naked boys. naked boys--that is to say they had no clothes on--shivering and yelling in the newly fallen snow. i quickly let the slat fall. i didn't want to be thought of as a peeper. but a few moments later i peeked through a tiny hole in the blinds and saw a girl, yes, a naked girl, run out into the snow, lie on the ground and make a face down snow angel.

they, i'm proud to say, are my neighbors.

the other excitement in my life was getting my identity stolen this weekend. i fell for one of the verification scams and almost had all of my money transfered out of my bank account. the scammers broke into my online account. they changed my primary email to theirs and the bank sent me a notice of the change. i checked my account, changed the email back to mine and changed my password. while there, i noticed that they'd moved some of my savings to my checking account. i called the bank and had them freeze my account. this was sunday morning. this morning (monday) i received the notice that the password had changed. however, the password i had changed it to didn't work. when i went to the bank and to set up a new account and talk to the fraud people, they said that the bad, bad people were trying to get my money through bill pay. but we stopped them. yes, we did. they didn't get anything.

so now i have all new accounts. i spent a few hours calling the different vendors whose payments are deducted automatically. for one account, they asked me to email them my checking account number so they could set up my account again. i did. i used my email account that i thought was safe. but shortly after i sent the email, i got an anonymous comment on my blog that said, "aflac aflac aflac chuck norris." what the hell does that mean? (and if you, any of my dear readers, wrote that, please tell me now. it would give me great comfort.) now i feel freaked out. i feel like they're saying, "ha ha ha. we've got you now. " what if they were in that email account too? what if they have all the information they need to make another attempt? i feel paranoid and totally freaked out. i feel like they are creepy, creepy stalkers. i feel angry that i wasn't more careful. i don't remember if i sent the email before or after i deleted all the tracking cookies from the virus scan and changed the password that particular email account. i just don't know.

i was totally proud of myself for the way i handled the situation. i wasn't scared. i felt like it was a challenge. they attempted to steal from me and i stopped them. but now i have to watch my back continually. it freaks me out a little.

so if you are reading this, you conniving ass who stole my identity, i hope you get nothing. i hope you get caught. i hope you and your whole ring of vermin who spend their lives stealing other people's lives are stopped. i hope your computers crash, or i hope someone breaks into your lives and smashes your computers to bits because you are not using them for good or for awesome, you are using them for evil.

and that's all i have to say about that for now. i'll let you know if anything else happens. all i can say is DO NOT TRUST ANYTHING THAT ASKS YOU TO VERIFY YOUR ACCOUNT. go to the actual website. don't go through the email. maybe all of you knew this already, but i didn't, and i really wish i had.

home sweet home

2007-02-02T22:09:00.000-06:00

tonight is my first night in my new apartment. i've spent many days here unpacking and arranging and dancing on my wood floors, but tonight i'm sleeping here. it feels good. i talked to heidi and kayla. it's been a long time since i've had a phone, particularly a phone in the states. it feels good to pick up the phone and call someone without a calling card. it's also nice to have an answering machine. i miss klaralyn though. we made some awesome singing messages. our version of "take on me" was one of my favorites. "...leave a message...after the beeeeeeeeeep." it was said to make ears bleed. sorry about that, ellen. i don't know if i'll have the courage to sing messages alone. we shall see...

so all is well. the candles are lit, as they should be on a friday night, and i'm off to take my first bubble bath in my very own bathtub. if, that is, i can stay awake long enough.

here are some pictures of the settling in process. doesn't she (the apartment) look all warm and glowy by candlelight? don't be fooled. it's still a little chilly. i'm hoping i'll stay warm curled up with all those blankets and pillows which are my bed...and my couch.

in the interum

2007-01-28T17:26:00.000-06:00

my time of silence was rather busy. in that time i finished my contract in korea and began my holiday season. in that holiday season i spent most of my time packing and...falling in love (however cheesy that may sound). and it was very good.

now i'm in lincoln, ne because it's my home, and i must save my teaching certificate by taking classes.

in the meantime, i'm going to experiment with living alone, all alone, for the first time, or at least the first time that counts. i shall cook. i shall clean. i shall budget and pay bills. i shall probably get lonely somewhere along the way. i'm looking forward to it, not today necessarily, but tomorrow will probably feel better. right now i enjoy living around emily and ben and katie and kristina and jeremy, when he pops in. i'm enjoying the smell of onions as katie makes pizza. i enjoy having the weepies as the soundtrack to our lives. i enjoy the constant banter. it's good.

something new.

2007-01-25T21:16:00.000-06:00

this is the front of my new dwelling place.
this is me in front of it.
a view of the inside.
my little kitchen.
the angel watching over my apartment until i move in.
the sky...just because i like it.

we never change, do we.

2007-01-25T16:11:00.000-06:00

today i saw a blind man reading and writing on the bus. i've seen people read braille before, but never write, let alone on the bus. it made me a little teary. i also saw two grown men throwing snowballs at a squirrel. if i had a car, i never would have seen those things.

yesterday at the bus stop a fellow bus rider was voicing that he wished he could afford a car so that he wouldn't have to ride the bus. he asked me if i felt the same. i said no. first of all, a car is an incredible expense that i cannot and do not want to take on right now. secondly, and most important, i love walking and riding the bus. i love being a zero-emissions kind of girl. i love feeling the ground beneath my feet and being able to make eye contact with so many strangers every day. i love figuring out how to get where i need to go with the imperfect and sometimes inconvenient bus system and the patience that develops in me. i love feeling the wind and seeing the sky. i love knowing this city. i told him that riding the bus makes us better people and is kind to the earth and he should be proud. he said, "yeah."

lincoln feels like home to me. in the past few days i've realized that lincoln doesn't change and that's a comforting thing. the same man with rectangle glasses still works at the library. i still run into students i substitute taught. the same people work at the coffeehouse and at the mill. the same people come to the coffeehouse. there are still the same thrift stores, the same churches, the same buses. i've always known them and been a part of them to some extent, but this time i feel closer to them. i think it's because i came back. i came back and now i live here. i don't live with someone. (okay, right now i live with people and i do love it, ben and emily. so, soon) i (will) live here in my own apartment. i don't know why it makes a difference, but it does. i know that living here isn't permanent for me. i'll be going back to korea next year. but it's going to be a good year.

i've still been reading frederick buechner's daily meditations. i read the one for the day and often skip around, reading here and there. he often writes of things coming to him as a gift. it may be wisdom or understanding or love or physical things, but all are gifts.

lately i really resound with that. i feel overwhelmed with gifts: the gift of being loved, the gift of community, the gift of being able to give love, the gift of connection and coincidence, the gift of skype and dance and gray's anatomy and cookies all the time.

and i didn't even ask for them. God blows my mind all the time.

2006-12-19T16:14:00.000-06:00

only 6 days til christmas. today i feel sad that i'm not going home.

2006-12-11T22:04:00.000-06:00

i have a real problem swallowing. at least once a day i choke when i'm drinking. it results in loud coughing, but thankfully, no spewing. many, many times a day, i stop myself from choking. it's weird. i thought swallowing was supposed to be an involuntary gift. i shouldn't have to think about it.

my love don't cost a thing

2006-11-25T08:54:00.000-06:00

klaralyn and i went to a movie in myeongdong tonight. outside the movie theater a crowd had gathered around a boy holding a sign that said, "Free Hugs." my first instinct was to immediately hug him, but then i thought what if he's mentally unstable? is this some perverted trick? we watched him along with the growing crowd. people were taking pictures. girls were giggling. finally, two hesitant, but brave girls came to receive a hug. he hugged them warmly, and they went on their way. after waffling for a bit, i went in for a hug. he hugged me, really hugged me, and thanked me. it was good.

koreans, in general, are not huggers. one of our friends told us of how she can count on one hand the number of times she's hugged her mother. girls will hold hands with each other. boys will drape their arms around each other. but people don't often hug those close to them, let alone strangers.

after the movie there were more huggers. a line of them stood with their signs. i got another hug, from a girl this time. i need one after watching departed. gang movies with bloody murders don't sit well with me. although i might watch the movie again just to see leo dicaprio. i'm not a huge fan of his, but he was so good-looking in this movie. hott (note the two ts) one might say. yeah...*sigh*

anyway...

i support free hugs, and i commend the bravery of the sweet korean strangers giving them out. i wish i could have asked why they were doing it. but whatever the reason, i'm sure they saved some souls. caring enough to wrap your arms around someone usually does that.

princess diary cafe

2006-11-13T03:07:00.000-06:00

who can resist dressing up? not i. when we were little my grandma had a dress-up box in the basement. as we got older the dres-up box became the attic full of antique clothes. i still try on my mom's wedding dress when i go to the farm. so when katherine mentioned a cafe where one could put on a fancy dress and take pictures, even though it was called princess diary cafe (a word right up there with barbie for me), i was there. here are the highlights. enjoy. it may be the only time you see klaralyn in a tiara. maybe, deep down inside, all girls really DO want to be princesses.

the final full day in taiwan

2006-11-12T05:01:00.000-06:00

one of my favorite things about taiwan was the amazing fruit. there are so many different kinds--dragonfruit (pictured), custard apples (pictured), wax apples, guava, sweet plums, sour plums, papaya, star fruit and more. especially tasty were cherry tomatoes stuffed with the sour?sweet? plums.
in our search for a garden that happened to be closed, we found a small, quaint park. it felt alice in wonderlandish because when we sat on the benches, our feet didn't touch the ground.
another temple. there are so many tucked around and people are always there, shaking their incense sticks.finding the national palace was no easy feat. even when the driver dropped us off at the right spot, we couldn't find it. but we did find a lovely garden with a sweet kitty who followed us and...
a magical kungfu musician. he looked very serene, but i know he can also be dangerous.
finally...the national palace museum, home of the stolen treasures.
this kind and jolly chef stuffed us on our last night in taiwan. cabbage, mushrooms, tofu, something else that was green and yummy, and beef all grilled before my eyes. it was SO good.
soon to come...princesses and pepero day!