Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Milo, music, and Philippians
On the difficult days, remind me of nights like this. 11 pm in comfy pants, manuscripting Philippians, drinking warm Milo and looking up references and definitions. Asking, "How is knowing Christ a 'surpassing value'?" or something like that. I love Philippians. I love the gospel.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Natural values
Me: "I feel kind of guilty watching my supervisor paint a sign while I'm sitting here watching baseball clips and eating a grilled cheese sandwich."
Steph: "Well, I'm thinking it's fair because you already did your half already."
Then Steph proceeds to point out the difference of values between hierarchy/authority verses fairness/casual, so that something that feels a bit wrong or uncomfortable to me is obvious and fine to her.
Cross cultural communication and values continues to blow my mind. Especially in these completely casual instances, the conflicting but natural reasoning from each of us show how deep our assumed values are.
Steph: "Well, I'm thinking it's fair because you already did your half already."
Then Steph proceeds to point out the difference of values between hierarchy/authority verses fairness/casual, so that something that feels a bit wrong or uncomfortable to me is obvious and fine to her.
Cross cultural communication and values continues to blow my mind. Especially in these completely casual instances, the conflicting but natural reasoning from each of us show how deep our assumed values are.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Staff Life
Projects waiting. Bottles of tempera paint on the dining room table. A bag full of Sharpies on the coffee table. The futon down, a long strip of butcher paper taped on the wall behind. "Sacramento State" traced on, waiting to be painted. Six boxes worth of IVP books, and the invoices to go with. Old journal pulled out for a reference in upcoming teaching. Spiritual disciplines handbook to keep self centered in the One. Conference registration money collected in an envelope on my desk, waiting to be counted. Texts, lots of texts. Lots of emails. Life-giving ministry, the kind that you want to stay up till 1:30 am for. What on earth ministry, the kind that leaves you puzzled. Then that new friend from the first two weeks of school coming to Large Group all of a sudden, twice in a row. He prays, he joins the post-meeting worship on top of the parking lot. What's bringing you back? Running [currently] hypothetical scenarios to invite him to know Jesus.
edit. need to do my laundry sometime between now and thursday.
edit. need to do my laundry sometime between now and thursday.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
On words and freedom
I stumbled across two posts that resonated deeply with my life's recent confusion. And my "recent" I mean 2.5-months-ago-and-still-unresolved. Read excerpts from the posts by Addie Zierman:
I want to apologize, to give disclaimers for use of those words. I think of the parents who would look disapprove of me, the students who use different language around me because I am staff. But I also think of the times I envied the freedom for others to use the words that just fit.
Being a follower of Jesus doesn't mean that life is smooth--I know this. But what I also want to remind myself is this: I don't have to pretend it's smooth. And perhaps most importantly: following Jesus means freedom. Freedom. Freedom to express, to commune with God, to speak to him at all times in all situations. It means being real and being myself, opening who I am to who He has created me to be. And none of those descriptions mean I can't swear.
There's a great comment from one of the readers on the second article: Like we’re not really supposed to admit it when life gets bad because that might mean our God’s not coming through for us; like we have to cover for God or something.
I think something about these are clicking because it's been two and a half months and we still don't know what's going on and why Darrell isn't in Sacramento. He hasn't found a job and none of the leads have worked out. Nothing is filling in so we can't say, "Well, it's working out anyway" because it isn't. He's at home and neither of us are exactly surrounded by good friends. But when I'm telling people what's going I feel like I have to say that we're working on it, God's working on it, he's doing his best (you can blame societal expectation for this one). But the truth is, I don't know what God is doing. I don't see what's so great about this plan with D's original plan being delayed and us being long distance. I think it's a bunch of crap that so many people passed but he didn't, and I don't think it's fair.
Andmaybe this time around I won't apologize for these feelings. Maybe this time around I'll just leave it at that and not end with some Christian clause. Maybe this time around I'll pull out these thoughts and frustrations that haven't gone away. This time around I'll cry out and tell my God, It still isn't fair and I don't get it. And hell, it's okay if I can't handle it...
- In Defense of the 4-Letter Word: "And as I tried to navigate my way through it, I found that darn it was no longer the honest response. 'Shoot' didn’t really cut it. 'Where the heck are you God' wasn’t really what I wanted to say when I screamed into the quiet. The right words were the ones that I wasn’t “supposed” to say, and they cut to the heart of my pain like arrows. They said it exactly right."
- More Than You Can Handle: "We’re laughing because it’s such a wildly inappropriate, overused phrase. It is the period meant to end the run-on sentence of another person’s pain. It’s the thing we say to each other when we don’t know what to say."
I want to apologize, to give disclaimers for use of those words. I think of the parents who would look disapprove of me, the students who use different language around me because I am staff. But I also think of the times I envied the freedom for others to use the words that just fit.
Being a follower of Jesus doesn't mean that life is smooth--I know this. But what I also want to remind myself is this: I don't have to pretend it's smooth. And perhaps most importantly: following Jesus means freedom. Freedom. Freedom to express, to commune with God, to speak to him at all times in all situations. It means being real and being myself, opening who I am to who He has created me to be. And none of those descriptions mean I can't swear.
There's a great comment from one of the readers on the second article: Like we’re not really supposed to admit it when life gets bad because that might mean our God’s not coming through for us; like we have to cover for God or something.
I think something about these are clicking because it's been two and a half months and we still don't know what's going on and why Darrell isn't in Sacramento. He hasn't found a job and none of the leads have worked out. Nothing is filling in so we can't say, "Well, it's working out anyway" because it isn't. He's at home and neither of us are exactly surrounded by good friends. But when I'm telling people what's going I feel like I have to say that we're working on it, God's working on it, he's doing his best (you can blame societal expectation for this one). But the truth is, I don't know what God is doing. I don't see what's so great about this plan with D's original plan being delayed and us being long distance. I think it's a bunch of crap that so many people passed but he didn't, and I don't think it's fair.
And
Monday, October 15, 2012
Butterflies
When I did my bug project in high school, I decided I didn't like butterflies anymore. After I caught the winged creatures, let them sit in my kill jar, and proceeded to pin and dry them, I discovered their eyes were bulging and pretty ugly up close. Since then, I just really haven't been a fan. Then today as I was watching M. and E. play outside, one flew by. The orange butterfly darted among the flowers, spending just enough time to stick it's hair-like proboscis into the flowers, reminding me briefly about the Magic School Bus lessons about nectar and pollination. Its paper-thin wings swooped up and down as it landed (can you use to word "swoop" when the object described is but a few inches long?), then fluttered quickly when it took off to the sky again.
Delicate, rhythmic, focused. I want to describe the movement of its wings as "crisp", which is also my favorite adjective for autumn weather. I'm laughing a little to myself that for the past six years, I haven't liked butterflies because of the bug-eyed observation I made in freshmen biology. And the fact that at twenty-three years of age, it's okay to consciously change my mind back.
Delicate, rhythmic, focused. I want to describe the movement of its wings as "crisp", which is also my favorite adjective for autumn weather. I'm laughing a little to myself that for the past six years, I haven't liked butterflies because of the bug-eyed observation I made in freshmen biology. And the fact that at twenty-three years of age, it's okay to consciously change my mind back.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Homecoming King
My little brother won Homecoming King.
We always knew he was the coolest of the bunch. Maybe it's because with so many older siblings, you're exposed to so much (whereas I was always among the naive of the class). Maybe it's because mom let him buy all his own clothes, or he was just more daring and active than Anthony and I ever really were (eg, skipping class). As an older sibling, I want to be of some contribution to this: my smarts probably got passed on, my social skills spurred him on. But that only lasts so far until I have to admit that my little brother stands on his own. He has surpassed Anthony and I in every arena of high school life (except theatre...for now), and we really can't say we played a huge part in it. He's just that smart/talented/good-looking/social/(fill in the blank).
As a sister six years his senior, I think hard of my high school days. I think of the sliver of a thought I'd had of, What if I ever got nominated? I think of the flitting hopes I had: of wanting to be cool and put together without looking like I was trying, of staying at the top of the class while appearing like I didn't study, of the pride I had that I did, in fact, at least touch on various achievements in those four years of high school. My resume was packed and beautiful when I graduated, with breadth and depth. And I was proud of it, I knew I could stand out among applicants.
But I digress. Reflecting back, I know the words I heard of value and identity at that time could only sink so deep. I could only absorb so much at my maturity level, and it wasn't deep enough to reach the point where I could actually be honest about all those above and want to let it go. There's only so much you can understand at sixteen years. Six years later, it doesn't seem to matter so much anymore. Knowing I wasn't as mature and secure as I thought I was is okay, because I've since grown out of it.
Yet as trivial as it seems, I feel as if I want my little brother have as much depth, insight, and value as possible at seventeen years of age. I like to think I've always made him think, challenged him to critical analysis. So whether or not it's true, I feel like my response to Alan's most recent accomplishment carries weight. Do I congratulate him on the crown? Does that validate his popularity, social status, success, and overshadow the deeper values I hope he develops? Though he has never aspired to win this, I want to take advantage of it.
Here are my thoughts:
Because homecoming at our high school centers around athletes, I want to commend him for what it takes to achieve as a runner: the hard work, perseverance, training, and dedication. I want him to know that these things are good and are life skills, that working through pain towards a goal will always be valuable.
Because the court is nominated by athletes amongst athletes, I want to commend him for being recognized as a leader by his peers. Maybe he was nominated because he is captain, but if so, he is captain because he stands for something. I want him to know that with leadership comes influence, and with influence comes change. And in the bigger picture, this is powerful and something to use well.
And because homecoming court is announced before the whole school, I want him to know that people are watching. Years later people may forget who you are, but for now, your name is floating around and that means something. Already you stand for something, and if I were a fly on the wall in the halls of your school, the conversation around your name would tell me what that was. Unfortunately, I'm not in your life enough to identify what that is. But I pray that now and in the future, you stand for the good, solid things in life, things like integrity and humility and a kind heart. There's always a gossip buzz about who's glad who won and he-deserved-it-more...but I pray that the buzz floating around your name is good, that people are happy you won. Not because you're a dashing young man (which you are), not because you're a diligent worker (which you are), but because there's something about you that people know is good and just. You know, your character.
We always knew he was the coolest of the bunch. Maybe it's because with so many older siblings, you're exposed to so much (whereas I was always among the naive of the class). Maybe it's because mom let him buy all his own clothes, or he was just more daring and active than Anthony and I ever really were (eg, skipping class). As an older sibling, I want to be of some contribution to this: my smarts probably got passed on, my social skills spurred him on. But that only lasts so far until I have to admit that my little brother stands on his own. He has surpassed Anthony and I in every arena of high school life (except theatre...for now), and we really can't say we played a huge part in it. He's just that smart/talented/good-looking/social/(fill in the blank).
As a sister six years his senior, I think hard of my high school days. I think of the sliver of a thought I'd had of, What if I ever got nominated? I think of the flitting hopes I had: of wanting to be cool and put together without looking like I was trying, of staying at the top of the class while appearing like I didn't study, of the pride I had that I did, in fact, at least touch on various achievements in those four years of high school. My resume was packed and beautiful when I graduated, with breadth and depth. And I was proud of it, I knew I could stand out among applicants.
But I digress. Reflecting back, I know the words I heard of value and identity at that time could only sink so deep. I could only absorb so much at my maturity level, and it wasn't deep enough to reach the point where I could actually be honest about all those above and want to let it go. There's only so much you can understand at sixteen years. Six years later, it doesn't seem to matter so much anymore. Knowing I wasn't as mature and secure as I thought I was is okay, because I've since grown out of it.
Yet as trivial as it seems, I feel as if I want my little brother have as much depth, insight, and value as possible at seventeen years of age. I like to think I've always made him think, challenged him to critical analysis. So whether or not it's true, I feel like my response to Alan's most recent accomplishment carries weight. Do I congratulate him on the crown? Does that validate his popularity, social status, success, and overshadow the deeper values I hope he develops? Though he has never aspired to win this, I want to take advantage of it.
Here are my thoughts:
Because homecoming at our high school centers around athletes, I want to commend him for what it takes to achieve as a runner: the hard work, perseverance, training, and dedication. I want him to know that these things are good and are life skills, that working through pain towards a goal will always be valuable.
Because the court is nominated by athletes amongst athletes, I want to commend him for being recognized as a leader by his peers. Maybe he was nominated because he is captain, but if so, he is captain because he stands for something. I want him to know that with leadership comes influence, and with influence comes change. And in the bigger picture, this is powerful and something to use well.
And because homecoming court is announced before the whole school, I want him to know that people are watching. Years later people may forget who you are, but for now, your name is floating around and that means something. Already you stand for something, and if I were a fly on the wall in the halls of your school, the conversation around your name would tell me what that was. Unfortunately, I'm not in your life enough to identify what that is. But I pray that now and in the future, you stand for the good, solid things in life, things like integrity and humility and a kind heart. There's always a gossip buzz about who's glad who won and he-deserved-it-more...but I pray that the buzz floating around your name is good, that people are happy you won. Not because you're a dashing young man (which you are), not because you're a diligent worker (which you are), but because there's something about you that people know is good and just. You know, your character.
amazing day #8
Singing Old McDonald while babysitting M and E. I let them fill in the animals, and the first choice was a sssssssssnake. Then for the second round, this is what I got:
A: "And on that farm he had a..."
M: "Dragon!"
Sounds that followed: "whhhsshhh, arrrr, mmmmmmr" here, there, everywhere!
A: "And on that farm he had a..."
M: "Dragon!"
Sounds that followed: "whhhsshhh, arrrr, mmmmmmr" here, there, everywhere!
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Amazing Day #6
Spending the whole day sabbathing with my best friend. Much needed physical rest, delicious food, soul contemplation, life dreams, and challenging prayers.
Friday, October 5, 2012
31 Amazing Days
The 31 Amazing Days challenge is going on with This Ordinary Adventure, a book that I'm very much looking forward to reading. With a subtitle "settling without settling" and descriptions like "trying to live out Jesus' extraordinary teachings in the midst of the mundane," the Jeske's remind us that...life here is amazing? I haven't read the book yet so I can't say. Anyway, I digress. The challenge they've put forth is simple: Each day of October, do or notice something amazing. And an Amazing Day can be really anything: "something fun,
dangerous, faith-filled, or just good."
The optimist in me loves the idea but at first, thought it was for other people. After all, I already find joy in the little things. I already appreciate life, and D and I have already penned our relationship as an adventure. I already walk barefoot and stand on tables and pluck dandelions to blow them to the wind.
Yet I must admit that it has been awhile since I've felt the ground under my bare feet. And I wonder what people think of me when I stand on tables, sing to myself in Winco, or stop in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at a scene...and perhaps lately, asking those questions have stopped me from living life full [and silly]. This realization came as I found myself perusing through the contributions on the facebook page. And even though I haven't done much out of the ordinary in my own life this month, I'm starting to notice. I'm noticing the joys, the little things that could (should?) be celebrated, the things that are good for my soul and make life full. I'm noticing more than I did a week ago, and I want to share it (this may also be the plight of those of us on blogs and social media: always wanting to tell people). So five days late, I think I'm officially in.
The over-achieving-too-optimistic one has had some marvelous moments and is occasionally listing more than one amazing thing per day. I hope that is okay.
1. Playing in Ultimate league
2. Overheard a sophomore RA James say to a student, "Our small group is having an ice cream party...you should come." James has only been to small group once but already considers himself part of the community!
3a. Taking time to really talk and listen to M. and E. while babysitting
3b. (or is this 4?) Called D at 1 am (on Oct 4) in all honesty, frustration, and emotion...and after the serious stuff worked itself out, we let the conversation flow normally. Not about things we had to catch each other up on, not about when we would see each other next, not about "oh I forgot to tell you"s (so many of thse). Just about really normal things, like how I did in Frisbee this week, the photo projects we're contemplating, or the Giants.
4. Hosted 18 students in our not-so-big-living room to watch Hunger Games, complete with a projector.
4a/5 (I need to stop having amazing days at 1 in the morning. It makes keeping track of them difficult). Decided to break my personal rule of not having students sleepover because one of our girls has been crashing with a guy friend when she's had to pull late nights and just can't do the commute. So my roommate and I made signals at each other across the room till we were on the same page, and then I said, "Hey, why don't you just crash here?" She brought her guitar too, so I feel asleep to the sounds of beautiful acoustic worship.
Today's amazing day: Taking a break in the middle of my work-from-home day to make a cup of hot Milo (first of the chilly season, hooray!!) and eat the last of the tau sah peah (mung bean cookies) I brought from home. So worth it!
I can't promise to blog everyday, but I look forward to the rest of the month. It's a roller coaster of a month, with going out of town frequently and prepping for the conference at the end of the month. It feels like it's going to be busier than ever with not a lot of room to breathe. Once in awhile, I'll do something amazing (write that blog? print those pictures?) for the challenge, but other times, I think I'll just have to notice it, because amazing things are already happening.
The optimist in me loves the idea but at first, thought it was for other people. After all, I already find joy in the little things. I already appreciate life, and D and I have already penned our relationship as an adventure. I already walk barefoot and stand on tables and pluck dandelions to blow them to the wind.
Yet I must admit that it has been awhile since I've felt the ground under my bare feet. And I wonder what people think of me when I stand on tables, sing to myself in Winco, or stop in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at a scene...and perhaps lately, asking those questions have stopped me from living life full [and silly]. This realization came as I found myself perusing through the contributions on the facebook page. And even though I haven't done much out of the ordinary in my own life this month, I'm starting to notice. I'm noticing the joys, the little things that could (should?) be celebrated, the things that are good for my soul and make life full. I'm noticing more than I did a week ago, and I want to share it (this may also be the plight of those of us on blogs and social media: always wanting to tell people). So five days late, I think I'm officially in.
The over-achieving-too-optimistic one has had some marvelous moments and is occasionally listing more than one amazing thing per day. I hope that is okay.
1. Playing in Ultimate league
2. Overheard a sophomore RA James say to a student, "Our small group is having an ice cream party...you should come." James has only been to small group once but already considers himself part of the community!
3a. Taking time to really talk and listen to M. and E. while babysitting
3b. (or is this 4?) Called D at 1 am (on Oct 4) in all honesty, frustration, and emotion...and after the serious stuff worked itself out, we let the conversation flow normally. Not about things we had to catch each other up on, not about when we would see each other next, not about "oh I forgot to tell you"s (so many of thse). Just about really normal things, like how I did in Frisbee this week, the photo projects we're contemplating, or the Giants.
4. Hosted 18 students in our not-so-big-living room to watch Hunger Games, complete with a projector.
4a/5 (I need to stop having amazing days at 1 in the morning. It makes keeping track of them difficult). Decided to break my personal rule of not having students sleepover because one of our girls has been crashing with a guy friend when she's had to pull late nights and just can't do the commute. So my roommate and I made signals at each other across the room till we were on the same page, and then I said, "Hey, why don't you just crash here?" She brought her guitar too, so I feel asleep to the sounds of beautiful acoustic worship.
Today's amazing day: Taking a break in the middle of my work-from-home day to make a cup of hot Milo (first of the chilly season, hooray!!) and eat the last of the tau sah peah (mung bean cookies) I brought from home. So worth it!
I can't promise to blog everyday, but I look forward to the rest of the month. It's a roller coaster of a month, with going out of town frequently and prepping for the conference at the end of the month. It feels like it's going to be busier than ever with not a lot of room to breathe. Once in awhile, I'll do something amazing (write that blog? print those pictures?) for the challenge, but other times, I think I'll just have to notice it, because amazing things are already happening.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
and afterwards
We talked last night anyway for two hours. There was a little bit of crying on my part, and a lot of sighs. We recognized the sway between getting the rhythm of long distance and then losing it again. We both agreed that Tuesday's conversation didn't count. I said sorry for all the weekends work takes up, and you told me how you knew I was trying my best. You laughed again at my practical-but-strange suggestions of sharing my Google calendar with you or emailing you memos so you at least know what's going on.
We talked about photoblogging on both our ends and my team for Ultimate league. We talked about baseball. And even though there's still five million things we still hadn't shared with each other, we finally ended the call at 3 am and knew it was going to be okay.
We talked about photoblogging on both our ends and my team for Ultimate league. We talked about baseball. And even though there's still five million things we still hadn't shared with each other, we finally ended the call at 3 am and knew it was going to be okay.
Shirts and Gloves
I know it's not a smart idea to listen to a sad song multiple times in one day. But it's been cycling through since it crossed my mind last night. Last night, as I sat staring at the happy picture you sent me for our four year anniversary. Last night, as I browsed through the pictures of us we've taken collectively (you still have more on your end, by the way). Happy, such happy photos.
I'm tired of this distance and I believe it's overrated.
Rough days. I know you say I'm always busy, but these few weeks (upcoming month?) is yet another round of busy. Nights seem taken and the afternoon call we squeezed in was choppy. Throwing news and updates and FYI's and save-the-date-I'm-visiting...
It seems like nothing's happened
until I've shared them with you.
What's going on in your life? How has it been almost a week since the last time we hung out, which was also our last real long conversation? Impatience flings frustrated, irrational statements: that email was not enough, that phone call was not enough, when was the last just-thinking-of-you? Feeling lonely, wanting to tell you everything, wanting you to ask me first, knowing it's not fair because you don't know enough to ask. Someone has to break the cycle.
I think I miss you most on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Well, today was Wednesday and I missed you. Terribly. And Saturday I will be with my best friend and then I have the evening alone. It will be the first night of the playoffs and I don't know if I like watching baseball as much without you. All I've had of the Giants these last few weeks of the season have also felt lonely: articles read while unwinding at night, clicking through stats, having to google and wikipedia terms like Triple Crown and everything else I don't know, listening to the radio when I'm driving...by myself. As much as I've grown to love the Giants, I've also only known them with you. If we can get the TV to work, I'll probably sit watching the game while working on my small sewing projects. Saturday. I'll miss you a lot on Saturday, if I don't already miss you every day in between.
I'm hoping time will pass without any assistance or convincing.
I guess the countdown is down to a week. But that's counting down to a couple hours squeezed between my meetings in the Bay. If you're frustrated, know that I am too: I'm getting this week off campus, so I should be faithful to do work, right? Don't I need to have these meetings? But isn't it painful to finally be in an hour radius of each other but be unable to squeeze in more than a few hours together? Yeah, for me too. And if you haven't figured it out, I don't always know how to articulate things beyond the cold hard calculation of work. Then there's the added layer of frustration of me being busy like heck with your schedule open so often...but we've been there before. I guess you should know that I hope one of my lunch meetings doesn't work out so maybe I'll see you for a bit longer.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
I play this horrible game when we're long distance, waiting to see if you'll call or write when I'm expecting you to (or before I do), then getting mad if you don't. When I can find real breathes of air in the middle of my anger, I know that the only reason I'm angry is because you've missed the mark on a high hope I never told you I had. It's a selfish game of my expectations and we both know it. It's never fair to you and it's completely wrong of me. Though I try to drop it and you try to beat it anyway to love me...no one ever wins at that game. But sometimes in that one more night without hearing from you...There we go again.
I'm tired of this distance and I believe it's overrated.
Rough days. I know you say I'm always busy, but these few weeks (upcoming month?) is yet another round of busy. Nights seem taken and the afternoon call we squeezed in was choppy. Throwing news and updates and FYI's and save-the-date-I'm-visiting...
It seems like nothing's happened
until I've shared them with you.
What's going on in your life? How has it been almost a week since the last time we hung out, which was also our last real long conversation? Impatience flings frustrated, irrational statements: that email was not enough, that phone call was not enough, when was the last just-thinking-of-you? Feeling lonely, wanting to tell you everything, wanting you to ask me first, knowing it's not fair because you don't know enough to ask. Someone has to break the cycle.
I think I miss you most on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Well, today was Wednesday and I missed you. Terribly. And Saturday I will be with my best friend and then I have the evening alone. It will be the first night of the playoffs and I don't know if I like watching baseball as much without you. All I've had of the Giants these last few weeks of the season have also felt lonely: articles read while unwinding at night, clicking through stats, having to google and wikipedia terms like Triple Crown and everything else I don't know, listening to the radio when I'm driving...by myself. As much as I've grown to love the Giants, I've also only known them with you. If we can get the TV to work, I'll probably sit watching the game while working on my small sewing projects. Saturday. I'll miss you a lot on Saturday, if I don't already miss you every day in between.
I'm hoping time will pass without any assistance or convincing.
I guess the countdown is down to a week. But that's counting down to a couple hours squeezed between my meetings in the Bay. If you're frustrated, know that I am too: I'm getting this week off campus, so I should be faithful to do work, right? Don't I need to have these meetings? But isn't it painful to finally be in an hour radius of each other but be unable to squeeze in more than a few hours together? Yeah, for me too. And if you haven't figured it out, I don't always know how to articulate things beyond the cold hard calculation of work. Then there's the added layer of frustration of me being busy like heck with your schedule open so often...but we've been there before. I guess you should know that I hope one of my lunch meetings doesn't work out so maybe I'll see you for a bit longer.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
I play this horrible game when we're long distance, waiting to see if you'll call or write when I'm expecting you to (or before I do), then getting mad if you don't. When I can find real breathes of air in the middle of my anger, I know that the only reason I'm angry is because you've missed the mark on a high hope I never told you I had. It's a selfish game of my expectations and we both know it. It's never fair to you and it's completely wrong of me. Though I try to drop it and you try to beat it anyway to love me...no one ever wins at that game. But sometimes in that one more night without hearing from you...There we go again.
Monday, October 1, 2012
I still forget what my new home is.
I pull up Google maps to look up directions. Why is this so far away? Then I realize the starting point was my old home in Stockton. It's that easy to subconsciously type an address without thinking.
I try to find my favorite radio stations while keeping my eyes on the road. Since I only have six programmed stations, when I drive back to San Jose, I know which one to hit, then to tune up and down to get to my Bay Area stations. Except this time around, I end up on a classical station?
I forgot I changed my stations to the ones I've found in Sac.
My dad prays for our meal: "Thank you for bringing us home safely...from Malaysia, from Stockton." When he's done, I gently remind him, "Dad, I live in Sacramento now."
I try to find my favorite radio stations while keeping my eyes on the road. Since I only have six programmed stations, when I drive back to San Jose, I know which one to hit, then to tune up and down to get to my Bay Area stations. Except this time around, I end up on a classical station?
I forgot I changed my stations to the ones I've found in Sac.
My dad prays for our meal: "Thank you for bringing us home safely...from Malaysia, from Stockton." When he's done, I gently remind him, "Dad, I live in Sacramento now."
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