I have homework I don’t want to do so I spent some time finding old friends on Facebook and now I’m writing an update. I always did composition homework at the last minute because I’ll spend too much time on it if I don’t have a deadline. Why is it so hard? I suspect my ego is getting in the way. So, what have I to tell you besides I miss the fantastic discussions that used to go on in my blog. Maybe I should say something inflammatory. I’m converting to Catholicism. I’m eloping. I’ve joined the Democratic Party. (That should get one famous quite reader to comment about dinosaurs).
I can, however, say one rather shocking thing in light of previous posting. I’ve been experimenting with putting myself together nicely with matching jewelry and cloths for functions (like church) and I’ve rather enjoyed it. In fact, sometimes I think I’m downright pretty. Oh, the horror thinking such a thing! It hasn’t seemed to cause any trouble, otherwise I might be saying different things, though I’ve met someone who is helping me not to take myself too seriously. It’s good to take God and life and important things seriously, but I take myself far too seriously – as if makeup and clothes actually change anything! I can be my same self in any clothing (okay, maybe not a chicken suit) and I can be a selfish egotist in any clothing as well. Or is that saying one and the same thing? Haha. How profound . . .
Despite being a bum right now it’s really been a rather good week. I got lots of practicing done and have really blossomed into playing harp in terms of getting comfortable and enjoying it. The music is a great challenge since I often have to transpose or read strange clefs or read two lines or do all of the above at the same time. Still, I’m getting better, and as usual, that’s all I need to keep me happy. Quite happy, actually.
Friday I was not so lost in history class and went for a barefoot run for the first time in about a month I’m guessing. I’d noticed my feet were softening up but was surprised that after the first 10 minutes they felt fine. I tried to find Josh’s apartment (that’s not considered stalking, is it?) and turned too early and tried to find a new way home and didn’t loose my sense of direction but because of the terrain wasn’t able to get home until an hour had gone by. Taking my shower revealed that my feet didn’t hurt because they were simply numb. Surprisingly, it’s only my muscles that hurt today, though.
I went to Nicola’s today. I thought it was a big party but it turned out to be just the who of us! Everyone else missed out – too bad! We had a lovely time just the two of us. She is Swiss/English and it was the first time we talked extensively and it turns out we have quite a bit in common. She is much gentler in stating her opinion as her own where as I sate mine and why I believe it and that makes it sound like I think it’s the only way to be. I did enough stepping around people’s opinions at Eastman so now I’m rather blunt I guess. She was surprised to hear of the problems we have with Christ being banned from Christmas in the states pointing out that there are more Christians in the US than in Europe (which is culture shock for me that I still haven’t fully comprehended despite seeing evidence of it everywhere).
The first door to my Advent calendar is Isaiah 9:2 “The people who walked In darkness have seen a great light.” The first door in Nicola’s calendar says “50% off a meat pastry.” At least that’s a corner of Christmas US grocery stores haven’t commercialized yet . . .
Veronika has a visitor staying from Brussels. We went to the Binningen Christmas market this morning and we’ve enjoyed some meals and chat time together. It seems age and race divide us little, though she did find it rather funny to see me sitting in the hall talking to my mom and working on the computer at the same time. Ah, that’s it. I’m always more homesick after having contact with family and I got to talk to my mommy yesterday and look at Thanksgiving pictures.
How can it be that my wonderful family is what makes it so hard to be away and yet their love is what gives me the strength to pick up and live in another country? How can contact with those I love bring such joy and also bring such sadness? Are opposites really as opposite as we think? We only hate those whose love we wish to have, otherwise we wouldn’t care. Love and hate. Joy and sadness. Pride and insecurity. Justice and mercy. Life and death. I wonder . . .
You're getting too metaphysical for me at this hour...well, it's not that late but I just watched Annie Hall (Woody Allen film, best picture 1977) which makes about as much sense as James Joyce and has left me a bit muddle-headed. But I shouldn't be disrespectful of the man on his birthday. He does do a good job of portraying a totally meaningless existence.... (Maybe this will bring Andy back to the table.)
I will add to the irony, however, by pointing out that your Advent calendar, though purchased in the United States, was made in Germany. I ordered a bunch of them online because I had so much trouble finding anything decent in the stores. Ones with chocolate behind the door seem popular here. Not that there's anything wrong with chocolate. And the grocery store clerk I asked during my search had never heard of an Advent calendar. She was interested, however. Perhaps we are not (yet) so jaded as Europeans?
What joy it must be to be able to run for an hour! And barefoot even.
Hm. I ponder the irony because I think I bought my advent calendar in France and it doesn't say where it was made. However, the verses are in English, so now I'm doubting my memory. Yet I saw the same calendar at the Binningen Christmas market, so . . .
So my memory that you took one of our Advent calendars with you is faulty. A.N. was right -- I should have mailed you one. I'm glad you bought one for yourself.
Protestantism and Republicanism will miss you. Kudos on the eloping, though! :)
And yes, responding to your mom's baited hook, I forget whether I've expressed my extreme unenjoyment of James Joyce here before. All I've muscled my way through was Portrait of an Artist, but it didn't make me want to try more.
I like the minor epiphany related in the second paragraph, though I can't help laughing at your realization, "You know what? I think I might be... pretty!"
Mom's so happy Andy's back she didn't object to his approval of my elopement!
I could say the exact same things about James Joyce, down to the book of his that I've read.
Happy to make you laugh, but I think it's something guys hardly ever understand about girls. I'm happy that the other parts of the post sparked the conversation, though. :)
I wouldn't worry overmuch about the elopement. As long as it's with someone who treats you like you're beautiful, you should be fine. Because, really, what else does a girl need? :)
Ooh, ouch. That may be the first thing that I've really disagreed on you with, unless I once again missed some irony. I may have made the step to thinking it's okay for beauty to be a part of the equation, maybe even a significant part, but all? That sends me running for the hills. No matter how pretty I am no guy is going to stare at me all day for the rest of marriage. I don't even think it can captivate through courtship or whatever you want to call it. There's got to be a lot more there than that. I hope I'm just stating the obvious. :)
You are. It was irony. You're safe. :)
Oh phew. I knew it had to be, but there are enough people who think that and with having watched that romantic comedy that seems to be popular by playing on that theme . . . Okay, I'm still scared to death of being some guy's pretty play thing. I see too many men treating women that way!!!! Sorry to have so little faith in you that I took you seriously at first.
The nice thing about romance, as Rogers and Hart once said, is that it "doesn't need a thing but you." You and whoever captures your heart are responsible for how you treat each other, not the rest of the world.
Since, however, men are visual, eloping with one who doesn't find you attractive makes very little sense. My understanding is that there is a certain amount of sweeping off of the feet in an elopement, and one would hope that your husband treats you like he finds you desirable.
But what do I know of elopements?
What do I know of elopements either. I think it might be better to stick with my introvert disguise. I'm glad to know that you are able to sate your opinions. I'm not sure what that means but it makes me laugh, and laughter is good.
It seems that women disagree sharply in what they understand by "beautiful" and in what they want from a man. For that reason, it's nice to see that (implicitly) not all women are on the Eldredge bandwagon!
I'll say. As I've said before, there's a lot of value in Wild at Heart, if you go through it and replace "boys" with "children" and "men" with "people." Captivating I found a lot harder to identify with. Seems to me Eldredge knows a bit about men but not much about women. Then again, maybe I only think he understands men because I'm not one. :)
On a related note, we just returned from working at church, laying sod for our addition. For a while I was the only woman there, and the rector told me I was an "honorary guy." (You have to know him and his sense of humor -- this was all in fun and not the least bit offensive.) I responded, "Oh, thanks a lot," to which he replied, "That's the highest honor we [guys] know." :)
Or we can say each person is different and so different gals match with different guys. I think things work out better that way. ;)
Back to the Advent calender. I am doubting myself because the advent calender I have is in English. That would be strange for something I bought in France. I thought I remembered telling you not to worry about getting one from me because I had one. Maybe you gave me one and so I left the one from France. Well, some day years from now my children will find an Advent calender and wonder why it's in French . . .
Oly if you haven't settled in France or Québec...
