I have never been more proactive and inquisitive in all my life; I've been arranging meetings and emailing all kinds of people, both acquaintances and strangers, all concerning a variety of things. It's a self feeding cycle that just uncovers more and more that needs to be uncovered but it's also very rewarding and energizing at the same time.
And very exhausting.
-D*sire
Monday, September 21, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
In response to "Legacy" (chopped in size) :)
First of all, it's almost 11pm and this is about the only time in the entire Jchoc time-space continuum that I ever, ever get loquacious regarding anything.
I read this last post that will fall directly below mine, and as I type, I think about how two people are (theoretically) supposed to contribute to this blog. So what better way than to respond to the other writer's post? (I was going to do it anyway, but now I have a legit reason of sorts) (I guess)
Anyway right! About Legacies! I read the previous blog and it was truly wonderful to see the beauty of the nice family and the traditional settings and activities that my fellow blogger and friend has described. She has every right to be content and grateful for what she has and the life she has lived. Reading it made me think about my own life, and actually, how quite different it is. And also how it has shaped me as a person. Oddly.
[...]
My life has made me who I am, and I am still trying to figure that out today. (who I am, that is) I wish that there was a better way to say this, but sometimes life really sucks and sometimes I don’t know what to do about it. You get thrown experiences and you’re supposed to live through them. But nobody tells you how.
Family is a beautiful concept and it must be carefully handled. It makes you who you are, whatever that “who you are” will be. Be grateful for it, no matter who’s part of your lovely legacy league. You’ll never get a better bunch of people to show you what life’s all about, really. And if you still find life surprising, they are certainly there to commiserate with you in your sufferings. I find it that way with mine. I’m not nuclear, and sometimes I wish it were so, but, that’s not really what the big “it” is, is it? It’s the beauty of the human experience. I really like this line from an Avett brother’s song I am particularly fond of (hey Brian if you read this and made it this far, I bet you can guess which one!):
“Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name”
We’re all probably nuts like the rest of the world, but I love my family.
-Jaychoc-o-lotto
I read this last post that will fall directly below mine, and as I type, I think about how two people are (theoretically) supposed to contribute to this blog. So what better way than to respond to the other writer's post? (I was going to do it anyway, but now I have a legit reason of sorts) (I guess)
Anyway right! About Legacies! I read the previous blog and it was truly wonderful to see the beauty of the nice family and the traditional settings and activities that my fellow blogger and friend has described. She has every right to be content and grateful for what she has and the life she has lived. Reading it made me think about my own life, and actually, how quite different it is. And also how it has shaped me as a person. Oddly.
[...]
My life has made me who I am, and I am still trying to figure that out today. (who I am, that is) I wish that there was a better way to say this, but sometimes life really sucks and sometimes I don’t know what to do about it. You get thrown experiences and you’re supposed to live through them. But nobody tells you how.
Family is a beautiful concept and it must be carefully handled. It makes you who you are, whatever that “who you are” will be. Be grateful for it, no matter who’s part of your lovely legacy league. You’ll never get a better bunch of people to show you what life’s all about, really. And if you still find life surprising, they are certainly there to commiserate with you in your sufferings. I find it that way with mine. I’m not nuclear, and sometimes I wish it were so, but, that’s not really what the big “it” is, is it? It’s the beauty of the human experience. I really like this line from an Avett brother’s song I am particularly fond of (hey Brian if you read this and made it this far, I bet you can guess which one!):
“Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name”
We’re all probably nuts like the rest of the world, but I love my family.
-Jaychoc-o-lotto
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Legacy
I feel like I’ve breathed this huge sigh of relief, that I’ve recaptured that belongingness and level of comfort that is afforded only by coming home, of being with people that you know at this level that is unparalleled really anywhere. It’s this feeling of knowing how to live with these people, of this lifelong history of a shared environment. There really is nothing like it. And I don’t know if I’m being sentimental because “absence makes the heart grow fonder” or if I’m just in one of those moods, but I was sitting in the living room listening to the speakers my dad just built; it was one of those moments that you never want to end. And I got to thinking a bit. So here’s my inheritance/legacy of greatness. (not quite the correct words for what I'm trying to express, but they'll work loosely)
My Dad
Sure he can get on my nerves and sure he has quirks that you have to adjust to and accept, but that’s characteristic of everyone. I got to thinking, however, that my husband’s got a lot to live up to. My dad’s a pretty amazing guy, who fits and molds this stereotype of a great dad and family man. He’s crafty and woodworks with the best of them—has built most of our furniture. He plays golf pretty much everyday and is good at that as well. He’s really into stereos and has this awesome quality system. He’s sporty—coached both me and my brother for years, still coaches, and still plays soccer and bball himself. AND he’s smart—a chemical engineer. And he’s curious about the world, always seeking to understand more things. He’s this great Christian, seeking to better understand God and that relationship. He does basic car mechanic-y stuff. He’s not overly sensitive and gushy, but he does care. And on top of all that, he’s an animal lover—a house is not a home without a dog. That’s quite the tall order there: good/smart job, woodworking, coaching kids sports teams, golf, man of God, car guy, and generally outgoing and personable. Yes indeedy, quite the stereotype there.
My Mom
My mom’s this all American great stereotypical mom. Home room mom, cooked and baked, kept a clean and orderly house while carting around the kids all day. She was that mom that made her kids lunch and would tuck a note in with the peanut butter sandwich just to say that she loves them. She organized sleepovers, let the neighborhood kids play in and around the house, laid back enough to let the kids be kids but also able to teach right from wrong. She organized birthday parties in the park and decorated Christmas cookies for the holidays and battled the snow to get to Grandma’s house by December 24th. She’s abundantly patient and loving, no matter what. She was there for the scraped knees and heartwrenching tears and ready with a snack after school to hear about how Johnny pushed Hunter and how Taylor’s tongue turned purple because of the KoolAid. And as I’ve gotten older, she’s become this ear and sage to whom I can turn about anything. She’s been able to mature and grow with us (my brother and I) as we grew up so as not to alienate or lock herself in this unreachable time lock. She’s adjusted to being an empty nester fairly well, finally being able to pick up her own interests that she’d set aside in order to raise her children. Now she’s in a knitting club, holds two part time jobs, reads, and gardens.
I grew up in a small town with a white picket fence. I had a family dog, a brother, and an allowance. We’d run around in the neighborhood with all the kids, playing games in any and all of our yards because it was safe to just roam the neighborhood. I baked with my mom, went to soccer practice with my dad, and we went to church on Sundays as a family. I was on the Bible quizzing team and made straight A’s in school without having to try. I wasn’t popular but I had friends; we weren’t rich but I never did without; and overall I was generally happy.
This is my legacy: for all you cynics out there, I just wanted to inform you that the stereotype exists, because I lived it… and I didn’t think that it was anything unusual. And as I stand at the crossroads in my life, looking back at the road behind me and the white picket fence, I can’t help but to get a little sad—for all the things that were and that will never be again; for all the things that I lived, without really understanding their significance; for all the ways that my life was perfect but I didn’t realize it at the time.
And I hope that this bit of intro- and retro-spection will be able to jumpstart that ability to live in the moment and cherish it for what it is and for what it will be, to better enjoy it as I live it and not only in reminiscence.
And in spite of all this, it feels so good to come home.
D*sire
My Dad
Sure he can get on my nerves and sure he has quirks that you have to adjust to and accept, but that’s characteristic of everyone. I got to thinking, however, that my husband’s got a lot to live up to. My dad’s a pretty amazing guy, who fits and molds this stereotype of a great dad and family man. He’s crafty and woodworks with the best of them—has built most of our furniture. He plays golf pretty much everyday and is good at that as well. He’s really into stereos and has this awesome quality system. He’s sporty—coached both me and my brother for years, still coaches, and still plays soccer and bball himself. AND he’s smart—a chemical engineer. And he’s curious about the world, always seeking to understand more things. He’s this great Christian, seeking to better understand God and that relationship. He does basic car mechanic-y stuff. He’s not overly sensitive and gushy, but he does care. And on top of all that, he’s an animal lover—a house is not a home without a dog. That’s quite the tall order there: good/smart job, woodworking, coaching kids sports teams, golf, man of God, car guy, and generally outgoing and personable. Yes indeedy, quite the stereotype there.
My Mom
My mom’s this all American great stereotypical mom. Home room mom, cooked and baked, kept a clean and orderly house while carting around the kids all day. She was that mom that made her kids lunch and would tuck a note in with the peanut butter sandwich just to say that she loves them. She organized sleepovers, let the neighborhood kids play in and around the house, laid back enough to let the kids be kids but also able to teach right from wrong. She organized birthday parties in the park and decorated Christmas cookies for the holidays and battled the snow to get to Grandma’s house by December 24th. She’s abundantly patient and loving, no matter what. She was there for the scraped knees and heartwrenching tears and ready with a snack after school to hear about how Johnny pushed Hunter and how Taylor’s tongue turned purple because of the KoolAid. And as I’ve gotten older, she’s become this ear and sage to whom I can turn about anything. She’s been able to mature and grow with us (my brother and I) as we grew up so as not to alienate or lock herself in this unreachable time lock. She’s adjusted to being an empty nester fairly well, finally being able to pick up her own interests that she’d set aside in order to raise her children. Now she’s in a knitting club, holds two part time jobs, reads, and gardens.
I grew up in a small town with a white picket fence. I had a family dog, a brother, and an allowance. We’d run around in the neighborhood with all the kids, playing games in any and all of our yards because it was safe to just roam the neighborhood. I baked with my mom, went to soccer practice with my dad, and we went to church on Sundays as a family. I was on the Bible quizzing team and made straight A’s in school without having to try. I wasn’t popular but I had friends; we weren’t rich but I never did without; and overall I was generally happy.
This is my legacy: for all you cynics out there, I just wanted to inform you that the stereotype exists, because I lived it… and I didn’t think that it was anything unusual. And as I stand at the crossroads in my life, looking back at the road behind me and the white picket fence, I can’t help but to get a little sad—for all the things that were and that will never be again; for all the things that I lived, without really understanding their significance; for all the ways that my life was perfect but I didn’t realize it at the time.
And I hope that this bit of intro- and retro-spection will be able to jumpstart that ability to live in the moment and cherish it for what it is and for what it will be, to better enjoy it as I live it and not only in reminiscence.
And in spite of all this, it feels so good to come home.
D*sire
Summer Recap
I've been working in the Clinical and Cognitive Neuroscience department at the University of Missouri. Got to be a subject for an EEG and fMRI study. Got to help run the EEG and fMRI studies. Met some cool people--including one from Germany.
Also got a paid internship in the Molecular Microbiology and Immunology department at the Med Science Building at Mizzou. Feels very "sciency"--pipettes, microscopes, chemicals. Met some cool people there, including one who's wedding was like something off tv.
Been volunteering at the Missouri School for the Deaf. Has shown me how much my sign skills are lacking... has also shown me how much I love sign in spite of everything. I love how the kids interact; it's what I always dreamed being a part of a large family would be like--the little kids bugging the older ones, the older ones messing with the little ones, helping the little ones, doing each other's hair, everyone helping to clean up after dinner. And it's all done with hands flying in rapid conversation. It's incredible.
I've been living with Nana and Papa. Which has been interesting. It’s been trying at times due to Nana’s attempted mothering instincts. It’s been great because I don’t have to pay for room and board. And getting to spend time with them for such a large block is good too, because (not to be too depressing) we don’t know how long this opportunity would be around. It’s been interesting living with a Parkinson’s patient as well as someone HOH. Definitely gives me perspective on the practical day to day challenges of the families of the people I could very well be dealing with professionally in the future.
I’ve read 15 books.
I’ve run just about every day and biked some (one time 30 miles!).
I’ve been working on my resume and grad school applications and statements of purpose.
Visited an oral deaf classroom—that was interesting to see the speech therapy and all the CI kids.
Met a few nice people—went to a bar a couple of times, and a couple of indie flicks (Gigantic and Moon).
Played some pickup soccer with the psych dept.
Watched a lot of Friends and Scrubs and NCIS—love them.
Got some sweet furniture from Nana and Papa’s storage room.
The weather (temperature wise) has been incredible. Supposed to be 75 degrees this weekend, July 18th!
Went "bar hopping"--sorta. That was an experience. Meeting people in a bar, tried this super strong shot of something minty, danced a (very) little. But it was pretty no pressure b/c it was my last night in the state and I went with some girls that carried the conversation and made sure I had an out if I was uncomfortable. Also got to see one of the girl's DJ brother and a drummer practicing in their empty (closed) club. It was pretty cool. And no I did not get wasted. Just to clear that up.
Oh and huge perk—didn’t have to get up and get to work at 8, which means more sleep AND still getting to run in the morning.
Really couldn’t ask for a better summer. What else would I have been doing? Working 15 hours a week at Pretzelmaker and living at home, bored out of my mind? This has been way better for me (and my resume).
D*sire
Also got a paid internship in the Molecular Microbiology and Immunology department at the Med Science Building at Mizzou. Feels very "sciency"--pipettes, microscopes, chemicals. Met some cool people there, including one who's wedding was like something off tv.
Been volunteering at the Missouri School for the Deaf. Has shown me how much my sign skills are lacking... has also shown me how much I love sign in spite of everything. I love how the kids interact; it's what I always dreamed being a part of a large family would be like--the little kids bugging the older ones, the older ones messing with the little ones, helping the little ones, doing each other's hair, everyone helping to clean up after dinner. And it's all done with hands flying in rapid conversation. It's incredible.
I've been living with Nana and Papa. Which has been interesting. It’s been trying at times due to Nana’s attempted mothering instincts. It’s been great because I don’t have to pay for room and board. And getting to spend time with them for such a large block is good too, because (not to be too depressing) we don’t know how long this opportunity would be around. It’s been interesting living with a Parkinson’s patient as well as someone HOH. Definitely gives me perspective on the practical day to day challenges of the families of the people I could very well be dealing with professionally in the future.
I’ve read 15 books.
I’ve run just about every day and biked some (one time 30 miles!).
I’ve been working on my resume and grad school applications and statements of purpose.
Visited an oral deaf classroom—that was interesting to see the speech therapy and all the CI kids.
Met a few nice people—went to a bar a couple of times, and a couple of indie flicks (Gigantic and Moon).
Played some pickup soccer with the psych dept.
Watched a lot of Friends and Scrubs and NCIS—love them.
Got some sweet furniture from Nana and Papa’s storage room.
The weather (temperature wise) has been incredible. Supposed to be 75 degrees this weekend, July 18th!
Went "bar hopping"--sorta. That was an experience. Meeting people in a bar, tried this super strong shot of something minty, danced a (very) little. But it was pretty no pressure b/c it was my last night in the state and I went with some girls that carried the conversation and made sure I had an out if I was uncomfortable. Also got to see one of the girl's DJ brother and a drummer practicing in their empty (closed) club. It was pretty cool. And no I did not get wasted. Just to clear that up.
Oh and huge perk—didn’t have to get up and get to work at 8, which means more sleep AND still getting to run in the morning.
Really couldn’t ask for a better summer. What else would I have been doing? Working 15 hours a week at Pretzelmaker and living at home, bored out of my mind? This has been way better for me (and my resume).
D*sire
Friday, July 24, 2009
One Word
Just got back from the lab (psych lab). The German guy (Thomas) and I share an office. So I came back from the MRI center and go to our office to get my stuff. He was still there doing stuff on the computer. So we make polite conversation. It's 4 oclock on a Friday and he and I are pretty much the only ones left (which sounds like I'm setting something up that I'm not, don't get excited). So I'm packing up and he says something about "So you're leaving?" And I was like "Yeah." Beat. "How late do you work?" And he kinda glances at the screen where he's working on an email. "Oh, I'm just typing up emails to my friends in Trier." Beat, smiling. "So it's not really work."
Holy. Freaking. Crap. He slipped one word in German in, and I literally melted all over the floor. They had to come and mop me up. And I'm not even attracted to him! AND German's not a hot language... but it was probably the most sexy thing all summer. And it's ten times sexier when they don't know that it's sexy. *sigh*
D*sire
Holy. Freaking. Crap. He slipped one word in German in, and I literally melted all over the floor. They had to come and mop me up. And I'm not even attracted to him! AND German's not a hot language... but it was probably the most sexy thing all summer. And it's ten times sexier when they don't know that it's sexy. *sigh*
D*sire
Monday, July 13, 2009
Gadzooks! a Post!!!
So this weekend I went canoeing down a lake crawling with alligators (this is JChoc by the way). It was amazing. It was scary (I wasn’t kidding about the alligators, we counted at least eight). It was beautiful. It was silent. It was eye-opening.
Finally getting to have an intellectual conversation and a discussion on what God is like makes this come a lot easier and picks up right where things left off. =) One thing that I love about how God is is that He makes nature. I really can’t handle how beautiful He has made the earth. How do you not look at the graceful egret taking off for flight and not think, there’s got to be more than random stuff and a directionless mixture to make something beautiful? The water below was clean and dark, green and blue with turquoise running through it like a play on colors that only One intimate with the color blue could express. Of course, below that blue were many feet of deep water that I could sink in. That’s not too exciting, but after ignoring that, I could look over the side and watch the ferns and fallen trees grow underwater fronds which swayed in the liquid breeze, like an upside down reality.
Dude, can you tell I like nature?
Yup, it’s one of my favorites. I could lay in it for hours. Just lay in the grass and listen to animals go about their day without even a thought of the human body taking up space. Like Jesus says, the lilies neither toil nor spin, and neither do any of His other animal creations. They just kinda go. Ever try to misdirect an ant? Sure it gets confused, but once it gets their bearings, it keeps going. How do you think that little dude gets his focus? From his Creator who takes care of him.
But sorry, back to the river with the alligators (there were some that were pretty huge. They’re so quiescent –GRE word!- that you can’t tell if they’re a log or not until you accidentally get too uncomfortably close) Sorry again! River. Alligators. Weekend. Yes, okay. So, while I’m paddling with my buds, I got to thinking about certain things. I guess it's same-ole, same ole, but ahwell.
Either way, it was good fun on the river.
J-J-Jaychoc!!
Finally getting to have an intellectual conversation and a discussion on what God is like makes this come a lot easier and picks up right where things left off. =) One thing that I love about how God is is that He makes nature. I really can’t handle how beautiful He has made the earth. How do you not look at the graceful egret taking off for flight and not think, there’s got to be more than random stuff and a directionless mixture to make something beautiful? The water below was clean and dark, green and blue with turquoise running through it like a play on colors that only One intimate with the color blue could express. Of course, below that blue were many feet of deep water that I could sink in. That’s not too exciting, but after ignoring that, I could look over the side and watch the ferns and fallen trees grow underwater fronds which swayed in the liquid breeze, like an upside down reality.
Dude, can you tell I like nature?
Yup, it’s one of my favorites. I could lay in it for hours. Just lay in the grass and listen to animals go about their day without even a thought of the human body taking up space. Like Jesus says, the lilies neither toil nor spin, and neither do any of His other animal creations. They just kinda go. Ever try to misdirect an ant? Sure it gets confused, but once it gets their bearings, it keeps going. How do you think that little dude gets his focus? From his Creator who takes care of him.
But sorry, back to the river with the alligators (there were some that were pretty huge. They’re so quiescent –GRE word!- that you can’t tell if they’re a log or not until you accidentally get too uncomfortably close) Sorry again! River. Alligators. Weekend. Yes, okay. So, while I’m paddling with my buds, I got to thinking about certain things. I guess it's same-ole, same ole, but ahwell.
Either way, it was good fun on the river.
J-J-Jaychoc!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
As a direct antithesis to my previous post, I have discovered that there is one place that I always feel like I belong, even in a town where I know no one--the soccer field. Now that may not come as a surprise to those of you that care to read this, but it definitely does to me. Sure I grew up playing soccer, but it was with the same people always. I didn't expect the feelings of familiarity to necessarily transfer to any soccer field anywhere... but apparently it is far reaching in its breadth.
And that's a nice feeling of "homeness" in a place whose newness everywhere is so very wearying.
D*sire
And that's a nice feeling of "homeness" in a place whose newness everywhere is so very wearying.
D*sire
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Evidence is In
Well.. I now have conclusive evidence that there is, in fact, something inside my head... and that something looks strangely like a human brain!!
I got an fMRI done today, and it has been one of the top experiences of my year.
Even though it's not super interesting with all the details, I'm going to chronicle all of them more for my sake than necessarily anything else.
I get to the brain imaging building and am shown into the back where there are the imaging computers and a couple of desks etc. I'm run through the questionnaire by this nice old man who is very good about explaining the 'whys' behind most of the stuff, perfect for my inquisitive nature. The PI explained that there would be three phases to the procedure: 1)lay on the floor looking at a computer screen and, according to the directions of the various subparts, either speak the short phrase or mime it out. The phrases were stuff like, "water the flowers" and "wash the dog". Following that section, I did two easy peasy Sukodu puzzles (1-4). Probably distractor tasks. Then after that's done, the PI explains to me that the first task was a memory task--that the third and final part of the study (in the actual fMRI machine) would be recalling which of those phrases I had previously seen. He obviously couldn't tell me that ahead of time or my knowledge of the purpose of that part of the study would skew the results by making me pay more careful "memorizing" attention to those items.
So they run through a final screening just to make sure I don't have any metal on me, and then do a metal detecting wand (very much like those at airports and sounding and looking very much like something out of Star Wars. They even called it the Vader Wand). Then I'm taken into the white, pristine looking room with the ominous looking machine waiting for me to slide right into its gaping mouth. I'm not nervous though, mostly excited. I lay down in the slidey table and the start hooking stuff up to me--two tubes that will administer the puffs of air onto my left foot and left hand, the response buttons for me to press (A for "yes I've seen that phrase before" and B for "no, i haven't") etc. I'm trying not to grin the entire time because I figure that's not the normal face of someone that will be stuck inside a high power magnet for the next hour and a half. Finally, everything is hooked up, I have a blanket over me (cuz it's kinda cold in the room), they snapped a coil (much like a hockey mask) tightly over my face and wedged my head in place with foam pieces, put the two mirrors on the coil to reflect the computer monitor image in front of my eyes, and $16,000 noise-cancelling headphones to combat the 100 db of the MRI. They raise the table and feed me to the machine.
Once inside, they turn on the monitor and talk through the intercom system directly into my headphones. "Are you good in there?" "Yeah." I must try not to move any part of my body while in the scanner, even to answer their questions.
The task: a phrase will flash on the screen and I'm to press the appropriate button for "yes I've seen it" or "no, I haven't". During some of the blocks there was a puff of air administered as the stimulus was presented. There were quite a few blocks, alternating which body part got the puff and whether there was a puff.
After the practice session, the PI got on the intercom in my earphones and commented that typically they see the fastest responses in young men (because of all the video games they play) but that mine were right on par with them.
After the first two blocks were done, the PI gets on again and says that he had looked at the first block of data and I was holding REALLY still. "Good job, Kristen. Keep it up." It was pretty hard to keep so still for so long, but I tried really hard. Every so often (and then when it was all over) they again commented about how still I'd stayed. Mission: Success.
Finally, when I could just barely focus any more, the screen said, "Thank you for participating. You will debriefed shortly." So then the researchers come and unhooked everything from me.
We go out to the computer and after a little finagling, Dr. Hackley pulls up a 3-D picture of my brain. There was a sagittal, coronal, and axial view, and each had a scrolly line to adjust. So you could start at the front of the skull and watch as you built the entire brain from front to back, side to side, bottom to top. It was, hands down, the most amazing thing I've seen in a loooong time.
There's my corpus callosum. There's my third ventricle, and my fourth ventricle. There's my frontal lobes--those make my decisions for me! And there's my basal ganglia and thalamus and cerebellum and brainstem. There's my pons and pituitary<--That makes my oxytocin and antidiuretic hormone. We found the hippocampus and the thing that runs along the corpus callosum whose name escapes me at the moment--we found it, w/e it's called. We found all the sulci and gyri. We found my visual cortex. We also found my optic nerve at the optic chiasm and traced it all the way to my retina. This is what's inside my head!! Sooooo coool!!!
I think what we were looking at was the structural scan (none of the functional hemoglobin measuring scans). So it was the basis upon which the other functional scans were based.
*Note: I'm really glad that I sat in on Boehm's neuroanatomy class last semester or I would have had no idea what I was looking at. Props for audits.
I'm gonna try and score a picture or a print out of my brain before I go home. Hopefully that's not against IRB protocol.
Either way, nothing like hands-on learning. And this is as hands-on on MY brain as I want anyone to get for a long time. Awesome day!
I got an fMRI done today, and it has been one of the top experiences of my year.
Even though it's not super interesting with all the details, I'm going to chronicle all of them more for my sake than necessarily anything else.
I get to the brain imaging building and am shown into the back where there are the imaging computers and a couple of desks etc. I'm run through the questionnaire by this nice old man who is very good about explaining the 'whys' behind most of the stuff, perfect for my inquisitive nature. The PI explained that there would be three phases to the procedure: 1)lay on the floor looking at a computer screen and, according to the directions of the various subparts, either speak the short phrase or mime it out. The phrases were stuff like, "water the flowers" and "wash the dog". Following that section, I did two easy peasy Sukodu puzzles (1-4). Probably distractor tasks. Then after that's done, the PI explains to me that the first task was a memory task--that the third and final part of the study (in the actual fMRI machine) would be recalling which of those phrases I had previously seen. He obviously couldn't tell me that ahead of time or my knowledge of the purpose of that part of the study would skew the results by making me pay more careful "memorizing" attention to those items.
So they run through a final screening just to make sure I don't have any metal on me, and then do a metal detecting wand (very much like those at airports and sounding and looking very much like something out of Star Wars. They even called it the Vader Wand). Then I'm taken into the white, pristine looking room with the ominous looking machine waiting for me to slide right into its gaping mouth. I'm not nervous though, mostly excited. I lay down in the slidey table and the start hooking stuff up to me--two tubes that will administer the puffs of air onto my left foot and left hand, the response buttons for me to press (A for "yes I've seen that phrase before" and B for "no, i haven't") etc. I'm trying not to grin the entire time because I figure that's not the normal face of someone that will be stuck inside a high power magnet for the next hour and a half. Finally, everything is hooked up, I have a blanket over me (cuz it's kinda cold in the room), they snapped a coil (much like a hockey mask) tightly over my face and wedged my head in place with foam pieces, put the two mirrors on the coil to reflect the computer monitor image in front of my eyes, and $16,000 noise-cancelling headphones to combat the 100 db of the MRI. They raise the table and feed me to the machine.
Once inside, they turn on the monitor and talk through the intercom system directly into my headphones. "Are you good in there?" "Yeah." I must try not to move any part of my body while in the scanner, even to answer their questions.
The task: a phrase will flash on the screen and I'm to press the appropriate button for "yes I've seen it" or "no, I haven't". During some of the blocks there was a puff of air administered as the stimulus was presented. There were quite a few blocks, alternating which body part got the puff and whether there was a puff.
After the practice session, the PI got on the intercom in my earphones and commented that typically they see the fastest responses in young men (because of all the video games they play) but that mine were right on par with them.
After the first two blocks were done, the PI gets on again and says that he had looked at the first block of data and I was holding REALLY still. "Good job, Kristen. Keep it up." It was pretty hard to keep so still for so long, but I tried really hard. Every so often (and then when it was all over) they again commented about how still I'd stayed. Mission: Success.
Finally, when I could just barely focus any more, the screen said, "Thank you for participating. You will debriefed shortly." So then the researchers come and unhooked everything from me.
We go out to the computer and after a little finagling, Dr. Hackley pulls up a 3-D picture of my brain. There was a sagittal, coronal, and axial view, and each had a scrolly line to adjust. So you could start at the front of the skull and watch as you built the entire brain from front to back, side to side, bottom to top. It was, hands down, the most amazing thing I've seen in a loooong time.
There's my corpus callosum. There's my third ventricle, and my fourth ventricle. There's my frontal lobes--those make my decisions for me! And there's my basal ganglia and thalamus and cerebellum and brainstem. There's my pons and pituitary<--That makes my oxytocin and antidiuretic hormone. We found the hippocampus and the thing that runs along the corpus callosum whose name escapes me at the moment--we found it, w/e it's called. We found all the sulci and gyri. We found my visual cortex. We also found my optic nerve at the optic chiasm and traced it all the way to my retina. This is what's inside my head!! Sooooo coool!!!
I think what we were looking at was the structural scan (none of the functional hemoglobin measuring scans). So it was the basis upon which the other functional scans were based.
*Note: I'm really glad that I sat in on Boehm's neuroanatomy class last semester or I would have had no idea what I was looking at. Props for audits.
I'm gonna try and score a picture or a print out of my brain before I go home. Hopefully that's not against IRB protocol.
Either way, nothing like hands-on learning. And this is as hands-on on MY brain as I want anyone to get for a long time. Awesome day!
The Loathed Question Revisited
An excerpt from Oliver Sack's Awakenings:
"Yet we know so much of the devices of disease, and so little of the powers of health that are in us:
To well manage our affections, and wild horses of Plato, are the highest Circenses; and the noblest Digladiation is in the Theater of ourselves; for therein our inward Antagonists, with ordinary Weeapons and down right Blows make at us, but also like Retiary and Laqueary Combatants, with Nets, Frauds and Entanglements fall upon us. Weapons for such combats are not to be forged at Lipara, Vulcan's Art doth nothing in this Internal Militia... --Sir Thomas Brown
These are the terms in which we experience health and disease, and which we naturally use in speaking of them. They neither require nor admit definition; they are understood at once, but defy explanation; they are at once exact, intuitive, obvious, mysterious, irreducible and indefinable. They are metaphysical terms - the terms we use for infinite things. They are common to colloquial, poetic and philosophical discourse. And they are indispensable terms in medical discourse, which unites all of these. 'How are you?', 'How are things?'; are metaphysical questions, infinitely simple and infinitely complex."
This eloquent discourse serves to mitigate my antipathy towards that same platitudinous and banal question that so plagues our culture inasmuch as there is more metaphysical inquiries contained within its subtleties than most individuals are prone to envisage.
Consequently, Sacks goes on to state that "the whole of this book", which details the case studies of numerous patients suffering from encephalitis lethargica and/or severe Parkinsonian symptoms, "is concerned with these questions - 'How are you?", 'How are things?' - as they apply to certain patients in an extraordinary situation." Such extraordinary situations mainly entail being 'locked inside one's own body'--unable to move of one's own accord, to speak, subject to respiratory and oculogyric attacks, and possibly the most detrimental of all, a sort of 'loss of self', of a DESIRE to do anything. They no longer seem to care about anything--moving, eating, connecting, and, inasmuch as these desires are the essence of living, life itself. Furthermore, the accounts detail these very same locked in patients and the transformation they experience under the administration of L-Dopa: going from virtually paralyzed and lifeless, to walking and talking and relating, to manic episodes of destruction and uncontrollable libido, and finally landing back in the neighborhood of where they started, some a bit more pathological, some a bit less.
In Sack's characteristically descriptive and exquisite narrative style, these patients' stories seem to leap from the pages in very much the same sense that they exploded from their semi-paralytic states following their initial doses of L-Dopa. And he not only details the symptoms but the patients, the WHAT that is obvious as well as the HOW ARE YOU that is perhaps not so obvious but just as important if not more so.
Well done Sacks.
--D*sire
"Yet we know so much of the devices of disease, and so little of the powers of health that are in us:
To well manage our affections, and wild horses of Plato, are the highest Circenses; and the noblest Digladiation is in the Theater of ourselves; for therein our inward Antagonists, with ordinary Weeapons and down right Blows make at us, but also like Retiary and Laqueary Combatants, with Nets, Frauds and Entanglements fall upon us. Weapons for such combats are not to be forged at Lipara, Vulcan's Art doth nothing in this Internal Militia... --Sir Thomas Brown
These are the terms in which we experience health and disease, and which we naturally use in speaking of them. They neither require nor admit definition; they are understood at once, but defy explanation; they are at once exact, intuitive, obvious, mysterious, irreducible and indefinable. They are metaphysical terms - the terms we use for infinite things. They are common to colloquial, poetic and philosophical discourse. And they are indispensable terms in medical discourse, which unites all of these. 'How are you?', 'How are things?'; are metaphysical questions, infinitely simple and infinitely complex."
This eloquent discourse serves to mitigate my antipathy towards that same platitudinous and banal question that so plagues our culture inasmuch as there is more metaphysical inquiries contained within its subtleties than most individuals are prone to envisage.
Consequently, Sacks goes on to state that "the whole of this book", which details the case studies of numerous patients suffering from encephalitis lethargica and/or severe Parkinsonian symptoms, "is concerned with these questions - 'How are you?", 'How are things?' - as they apply to certain patients in an extraordinary situation." Such extraordinary situations mainly entail being 'locked inside one's own body'--unable to move of one's own accord, to speak, subject to respiratory and oculogyric attacks, and possibly the most detrimental of all, a sort of 'loss of self', of a DESIRE to do anything. They no longer seem to care about anything--moving, eating, connecting, and, inasmuch as these desires are the essence of living, life itself. Furthermore, the accounts detail these very same locked in patients and the transformation they experience under the administration of L-Dopa: going from virtually paralyzed and lifeless, to walking and talking and relating, to manic episodes of destruction and uncontrollable libido, and finally landing back in the neighborhood of where they started, some a bit more pathological, some a bit less.
In Sack's characteristically descriptive and exquisite narrative style, these patients' stories seem to leap from the pages in very much the same sense that they exploded from their semi-paralytic states following their initial doses of L-Dopa. And he not only details the symptoms but the patients, the WHAT that is obvious as well as the HOW ARE YOU that is perhaps not so obvious but just as important if not more so.
Well done Sacks.
--D*sire
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Trail Mix
A running analogy--trite I know. But hang with me. There's a reason that they're so ubiquitous...
You're running, feet pounding the pavement. A cool breeze revitalizes your energy and you feel so alive, so right. This is your Christian walk, when you first lace up the running shoes and take off, accepting Jesus into your life as Lord and Savior... and you start the race with Him. You run with energy toward the vanishing point, excited to be on this journey with him. But after awhile, just like the seeds planted among the weeds, life comes in and chokes in on your path. And you start taking your eyes off the goal, off of Jesus.
Ooo... pretty flowers... And you stop and play in them for awhile. Not harmful in and of themselves, but they impede your race. They distract you from what you're supposed to be doing.
The clouds are moving in in the distance... you start to worry about the future. What will I do if this happens; how am I going to survive if that happens. And your feet slow to a walk as you're consumed by thoughts of things that are out of your control.
Or you start to focus on the fact that you're running alone. It especially hits home when you see others in the trail running with partners. And you may find a dark shadowy place to crawl into and feel sorry for yourself for awhile.
And then out of the gloom and your self-absorbed knot you hear a voice: "Don't you trust me?"
You look up and can barely make out a shape standing on the path and holding his hand out to you.
You KNOW in your mind that he's right; you know that you DO trust him, somewhere inside... but it's just so hard to make your heart listen, to stand back up, brush yourself off, and start running again--still alone.
So he asks again, "Do you trust me?"
And you do, so you brace yourself, crawl out, take his hand, and start running again. The first little while is always the hardest, until you find your groove again.
Soon again, though, your eyes start to wander again, and your feet start to slow... It's times like these when you need someone to come along side you and encourage you to keep up the race. A friend comes along and runs with you for awhile and your energy is restored. With Jesus on one side and a friend supporting the other, you can make it through stretches that you look back on and think, "I have no idea how I made it through that."
You meet regularly at the watering stations and are encouraged by the solidarity of seeing a bunch of other runners. They know what you're going through; they know what the race is like, with its ups and downs. You leave the water break with a new found excitement and motivation.
But it's a constant battle against the dark woods that threaten to suck you in, against the scorching of the Texas sun threatening to make you pass out. And all the while is the voice of Jesus next to you, "I have run this race before; I know where you're going. I've planned it all out." And you just have to trust that he will guide you through each muddy puddle and ginormous hill and pull you back in when you want to crawl into a hole and stop running. You still have to experience those trials, sucky as they are; but as so many people have said before, you don't appreciate and value the downhills unless you know what the uphills are like.
You have to constantly be reminded of who it is you're running with, and for, and towards. And it's only the hope that his presence provides that keeps you going.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1-2a)
So that when it's all said and done you can say, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day" (2 Timothy 4:7).
Running is fun, rewarding, tiring, harder than all get out, but the feeling you get when you end up home really is worth the struggle.
You're running, feet pounding the pavement. A cool breeze revitalizes your energy and you feel so alive, so right. This is your Christian walk, when you first lace up the running shoes and take off, accepting Jesus into your life as Lord and Savior... and you start the race with Him. You run with energy toward the vanishing point, excited to be on this journey with him. But after awhile, just like the seeds planted among the weeds, life comes in and chokes in on your path. And you start taking your eyes off the goal, off of Jesus.
Ooo... pretty flowers... And you stop and play in them for awhile. Not harmful in and of themselves, but they impede your race. They distract you from what you're supposed to be doing.
The clouds are moving in in the distance... you start to worry about the future. What will I do if this happens; how am I going to survive if that happens. And your feet slow to a walk as you're consumed by thoughts of things that are out of your control.
Or you start to focus on the fact that you're running alone. It especially hits home when you see others in the trail running with partners. And you may find a dark shadowy place to crawl into and feel sorry for yourself for awhile.
And then out of the gloom and your self-absorbed knot you hear a voice: "Don't you trust me?"
You look up and can barely make out a shape standing on the path and holding his hand out to you.
You KNOW in your mind that he's right; you know that you DO trust him, somewhere inside... but it's just so hard to make your heart listen, to stand back up, brush yourself off, and start running again--still alone.
So he asks again, "Do you trust me?"
And you do, so you brace yourself, crawl out, take his hand, and start running again. The first little while is always the hardest, until you find your groove again.
Soon again, though, your eyes start to wander again, and your feet start to slow... It's times like these when you need someone to come along side you and encourage you to keep up the race. A friend comes along and runs with you for awhile and your energy is restored. With Jesus on one side and a friend supporting the other, you can make it through stretches that you look back on and think, "I have no idea how I made it through that."
You meet regularly at the watering stations and are encouraged by the solidarity of seeing a bunch of other runners. They know what you're going through; they know what the race is like, with its ups and downs. You leave the water break with a new found excitement and motivation.
But it's a constant battle against the dark woods that threaten to suck you in, against the scorching of the Texas sun threatening to make you pass out. And all the while is the voice of Jesus next to you, "I have run this race before; I know where you're going. I've planned it all out." And you just have to trust that he will guide you through each muddy puddle and ginormous hill and pull you back in when you want to crawl into a hole and stop running. You still have to experience those trials, sucky as they are; but as so many people have said before, you don't appreciate and value the downhills unless you know what the uphills are like.
You have to constantly be reminded of who it is you're running with, and for, and towards. And it's only the hope that his presence provides that keeps you going.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1-2a)
So that when it's all said and done you can say, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day" (2 Timothy 4:7).
Running is fun, rewarding, tiring, harder than all get out, but the feeling you get when you end up home really is worth the struggle.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Brian's Bucket List (cuz he refused to write it down)
In an order yet to be determined:
1. Eat at panera
2. Try pretzel flip sides
3. Learn how to swim.
4. Go out on a boat.
5. Lay in a hammock.
6. Eat a whopper.
7. Read A Wrinkle in Time.
More to come.
1. Eat at panera
2. Try pretzel flip sides
3. Learn how to swim.
4. Go out on a boat.
5. Lay in a hammock.
6. Eat a whopper.
7. Read A Wrinkle in Time.
More to come.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
"Welcome to Missouri" *sarcastically
Okay, so here's how things went down.
Because I was going to stay in MO after my parents left, we packed up two cars and drove from Bville to Columbia for my brother's family graduation party. I had all my stuff for my summer stay in my car (bicycle, clothes, running stuff, shoes, books, etc). We arrive and everyone helps carry my stuff downstairs. I was going to just carry some stuff in, but people kept coming, so we just unloaded everything. So we go inside and chill, eat, hang out, whatever. Bedtime. Wake up the next morning.
We were eating breakfast and chilling the next morning when my cousin and aunt start looking for a cooler. "Did you bring it in?" "I don't remember bringing it in." "Did YOU bring it in?" So it gradually comes to light that her iPod and the cooler full of beer have been stolen out of her car. And this happening in a what we thought was "nice" neighborhood. So I go outside and look in my car which I find unlocked. Crap. I don't ever leave it unlocked; must have just gotten overlooked because everyone was unloading. But nothing was in there. I saw a first aid kit that I keep in my console had been moved to the seat, so I knew they'd gone through my car, but nothing seemed to be missing, because, again, we had thankfully unloaded everything the day before. So I go back inside and suddenly it dawns on me: all the cash that I had taken out for the summer (all $200 of it) was in that console (where I ironically stored it so I wouldn't be carrying that amount around in my purse where it could get lost). I race outside in full knowledge that it's not there. And I am not mistaken. Needless to say that I was upset. Upset at myself for being so careless mostly. It's very hard not to relive all the "if-only" scenarios: if only I'd double checked that it was locked; if only I'd remembered to take it in; if only I'd put it in my purse in the first place; and the list goes on and on. So I went running (good way to burn up some of that upset-ness). Didn't work a whole lot but I suppose it did help a bit. Still ruined my day however. Which sucks, cuz I missed the graduation lunch thingy (feel kinda bad about that). But I had to find a way to get "un-upset" because there was gift time and family time still remaining. As I was running to burn up the upset-ness, God eventually pressed this verse on my mind, "Give to everyone who asks you and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back." Wow, if any verse were ever applicable, this would be the one. And then He reminded me of when Jesus was on the cross and said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." Now, if Jesus can forgive those that BEAT and CRUCIFIED him, I can forgive some mislead teens (most likely teens) who took a few dollars and whom Jesus made and loves regardless. But even though I know in my head that this is the right thing to do, it's still hard. It's all part of the process of Jesus making me more like Him.
But, there is more to this story. Later, I went to see how much cash I actually had in my wallet. And lo and behold there is a wad of twenties there. I furrow my brow in confusion. Did I, in fact, move it to my wallet and not remember doing so?... No, I was pretty sure that that had not been the case. So I go ask my mom and she gets this funny look on her face as she tries to cover it up. But I eventually get it out of her that my aunt had given some money to my brother to put in my wallet (this is the aunt who is recently divorced and who works three jobs--I still feel bad about that, and if she'd have given the money to me I wouldn't have taken it). I don't figure all of it was from her, but I don't know who else supplied the rest.
Next night:
My dad gets it into his head that we are gonna do a stakeout and try and catch the culprits if they come back for a second helping. So we spend FOREEEVER in the dining room going round and round about who's going to call who and who's going to go and how dad's going to man the golf club and mom's going to call 911 and now what's our grandparents' address. Sheesh, we'd make awful cops. So the plan is for each of us to take 2 30 minute shifts from 11 to about 3; we sit in the smaller of the two garages in the dark, staring out the blinds of a side door. My brother and my dad slept in tennis shoes so they could run after the thieves? I don't really know what they were planning on doing but whatever. Of course I could sleep before my shift, too excited/too much going on. And then just about the time I DO manage to drift off, my mom is touching my foot. My turn. So I go upstairs and stare at the two cars (which my dad was going to bait with money, but didn't end up doing so) for thirty minutes. Nothing happens. As far as my shifts go, I see one car, hear some dogs, and that's the extent of my stakeout events. I find out the next morning that five minutes after my mom's first shift a guy walks by with his dog, and then down the other side of the street a little later. This was one of the suspects that my grandparents think might have done it. They found it questionable that he was walking his dog that late (to which there are certain scenarios that would fit, but they are rather few). Regardless, nothing happened that night. But now we're all a bit on edge and I've (sorta) participated in a stakeout.
Lessons Learned:
First and foremost, the sacrifice and great love of our Savior. "Father forgive them, for they know not what they are doing"--how incredible.
Second, that family will come through for you no matter what (and that feels so good to KNOW).
And lastly, lock your car! ^__^
Welcome to Missouri, can only go uphill from here!
Because I was going to stay in MO after my parents left, we packed up two cars and drove from Bville to Columbia for my brother's family graduation party. I had all my stuff for my summer stay in my car (bicycle, clothes, running stuff, shoes, books, etc). We arrive and everyone helps carry my stuff downstairs. I was going to just carry some stuff in, but people kept coming, so we just unloaded everything. So we go inside and chill, eat, hang out, whatever. Bedtime. Wake up the next morning.
We were eating breakfast and chilling the next morning when my cousin and aunt start looking for a cooler. "Did you bring it in?" "I don't remember bringing it in." "Did YOU bring it in?" So it gradually comes to light that her iPod and the cooler full of beer have been stolen out of her car. And this happening in a what we thought was "nice" neighborhood. So I go outside and look in my car which I find unlocked. Crap. I don't ever leave it unlocked; must have just gotten overlooked because everyone was unloading. But nothing was in there. I saw a first aid kit that I keep in my console had been moved to the seat, so I knew they'd gone through my car, but nothing seemed to be missing, because, again, we had thankfully unloaded everything the day before. So I go back inside and suddenly it dawns on me: all the cash that I had taken out for the summer (all $200 of it) was in that console (where I ironically stored it so I wouldn't be carrying that amount around in my purse where it could get lost). I race outside in full knowledge that it's not there. And I am not mistaken. Needless to say that I was upset. Upset at myself for being so careless mostly. It's very hard not to relive all the "if-only" scenarios: if only I'd double checked that it was locked; if only I'd remembered to take it in; if only I'd put it in my purse in the first place; and the list goes on and on. So I went running (good way to burn up some of that upset-ness). Didn't work a whole lot but I suppose it did help a bit. Still ruined my day however. Which sucks, cuz I missed the graduation lunch thingy (feel kinda bad about that). But I had to find a way to get "un-upset" because there was gift time and family time still remaining. As I was running to burn up the upset-ness, God eventually pressed this verse on my mind, "Give to everyone who asks you and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back." Wow, if any verse were ever applicable, this would be the one. And then He reminded me of when Jesus was on the cross and said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." Now, if Jesus can forgive those that BEAT and CRUCIFIED him, I can forgive some mislead teens (most likely teens) who took a few dollars and whom Jesus made and loves regardless. But even though I know in my head that this is the right thing to do, it's still hard. It's all part of the process of Jesus making me more like Him.
But, there is more to this story. Later, I went to see how much cash I actually had in my wallet. And lo and behold there is a wad of twenties there. I furrow my brow in confusion. Did I, in fact, move it to my wallet and not remember doing so?... No, I was pretty sure that that had not been the case. So I go ask my mom and she gets this funny look on her face as she tries to cover it up. But I eventually get it out of her that my aunt had given some money to my brother to put in my wallet (this is the aunt who is recently divorced and who works three jobs--I still feel bad about that, and if she'd have given the money to me I wouldn't have taken it). I don't figure all of it was from her, but I don't know who else supplied the rest.
Next night:
My dad gets it into his head that we are gonna do a stakeout and try and catch the culprits if they come back for a second helping. So we spend FOREEEVER in the dining room going round and round about who's going to call who and who's going to go and how dad's going to man the golf club and mom's going to call 911 and now what's our grandparents' address. Sheesh, we'd make awful cops. So the plan is for each of us to take 2 30 minute shifts from 11 to about 3; we sit in the smaller of the two garages in the dark, staring out the blinds of a side door. My brother and my dad slept in tennis shoes so they could run after the thieves? I don't really know what they were planning on doing but whatever. Of course I could sleep before my shift, too excited/too much going on. And then just about the time I DO manage to drift off, my mom is touching my foot. My turn. So I go upstairs and stare at the two cars (which my dad was going to bait with money, but didn't end up doing so) for thirty minutes. Nothing happens. As far as my shifts go, I see one car, hear some dogs, and that's the extent of my stakeout events. I find out the next morning that five minutes after my mom's first shift a guy walks by with his dog, and then down the other side of the street a little later. This was one of the suspects that my grandparents think might have done it. They found it questionable that he was walking his dog that late (to which there are certain scenarios that would fit, but they are rather few). Regardless, nothing happened that night. But now we're all a bit on edge and I've (sorta) participated in a stakeout.
Lessons Learned:
First and foremost, the sacrifice and great love of our Savior. "Father forgive them, for they know not what they are doing"--how incredible.
Second, that family will come through for you no matter what (and that feels so good to KNOW).
And lastly, lock your car! ^__^
Welcome to Missouri, can only go uphill from here!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Thirty Yards
So I was driving back to Texas yesterday with this as my backdrop:
Beautiful huh?
On the way back I had a nice long conversation with God... which was so nice (just rather unfortunate that it takes me being a captive audience to get me to stop long enough to listen... *note to self* must work on that). It feels so nice to be honest about everything and to know that He knows about everything, cares about it, and holds it all in His hands.
He reiterated to me that I am NOT in charge of my life; I do NOT have to figure it out by myself. It's like the fog that was blanketing the road last night: I can only see about thirty yards ahead of me, but that's all I really need for the time being. He continues to reveal the next thirty yards when I get there, but I have to take it thirty yards at a time; that's exactly the amount presented to me at a time (no more, no less).
I'm so worried about careers and jobs and family and marriage--if and when and how these will all work out--but I feel this peace about next year, that somehow He's already got it all worked out. Even though on some level, only having two school options freaks me out (like putting all my fragile eggs in one basket), but I know that He will direct me one step at a time. I believe that He's leading me to one of the two grad schools I'm looking at, and if He is, then everything will fall into place; therefore, no need to worry. And if He isn't, I don't want to be there anyway--I don't want anything but what He wants (although I will admit that letting these go would be quite the faith-trying time for me; but if that's what He has planned for me then bring it). It's such a relief to know that my future is in hands more capable than my own (much MUCH more capable). I just need to listen and trust... and follow those thirty yards as He reveals them.
Beautiful huh?
On the way back I had a nice long conversation with God... which was so nice (just rather unfortunate that it takes me being a captive audience to get me to stop long enough to listen... *note to self* must work on that). It feels so nice to be honest about everything and to know that He knows about everything, cares about it, and holds it all in His hands.
He reiterated to me that I am NOT in charge of my life; I do NOT have to figure it out by myself. It's like the fog that was blanketing the road last night: I can only see about thirty yards ahead of me, but that's all I really need for the time being. He continues to reveal the next thirty yards when I get there, but I have to take it thirty yards at a time; that's exactly the amount presented to me at a time (no more, no less).
I'm so worried about careers and jobs and family and marriage--if and when and how these will all work out--but I feel this peace about next year, that somehow He's already got it all worked out. Even though on some level, only having two school options freaks me out (like putting all my fragile eggs in one basket), but I know that He will direct me one step at a time. I believe that He's leading me to one of the two grad schools I'm looking at, and if He is, then everything will fall into place; therefore, no need to worry. And if He isn't, I don't want to be there anyway--I don't want anything but what He wants (although I will admit that letting these go would be quite the faith-trying time for me; but if that's what He has planned for me then bring it). It's such a relief to know that my future is in hands more capable than my own (much MUCH more capable). I just need to listen and trust... and follow those thirty yards as He reveals them.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
She inspired me
I wish I could write like a certain person I know. Her words are down to earth and homey and easy to understand. And that's what writing should do. Communicate. I read this line from an apparently controversial play called Oleanna. This guy named John says in regards to simple conversation such as commenting on the weather:
"...it is the essence of human communication. I say something conventional, you respond, and the information we exchange is not about the 'weather,' but that we both agree that we are both human"
I thought it was pretty cool. Communication is all about agreeing that we are human. It's what separates us from all else living. The ability to think, to question, to criticize, to argue, to complain, to laugh, to laugh harder, to scream at each other's faces, to agree or understand, or even understand that we'll never understand, to love, to really love and not be afraid, to sacrifice for another, to be strong in spite of how we feel, to be high self monitors, or not even realize we are low self monitors, to have family, to have friends, to have loves, and do this whole life thing every single day whenever we just want to turn over and go back to sleep.
But really, writing and speaking are two things we can't live without. And I guess that's the moral of this blog. Ha
-- jchoc, yo
oh, and apparently "flowing" is pretty cool too. I know two people who wish they could do it. haha :P
"...it is the essence of human communication. I say something conventional, you respond, and the information we exchange is not about the 'weather,' but that we both agree that we are both human"
I thought it was pretty cool. Communication is all about agreeing that we are human. It's what separates us from all else living. The ability to think, to question, to criticize, to argue, to complain, to laugh, to laugh harder, to scream at each other's faces, to agree or understand, or even understand that we'll never understand, to love, to really love and not be afraid, to sacrifice for another, to be strong in spite of how we feel, to be high self monitors, or not even realize we are low self monitors, to have family, to have friends, to have loves, and do this whole life thing every single day whenever we just want to turn over and go back to sleep.
But really, writing and speaking are two things we can't live without. And I guess that's the moral of this blog. Ha
-- jchoc, yo
oh, and apparently "flowing" is pretty cool too. I know two people who wish they could do it. haha :P
Friday, April 10, 2009
Making Deviled Eggs
It's always a bit sad but nostalgic when you have to start doing your childhood traditions alone. Welcome to the grown up world.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Austin, J-choc's view, day three. last but not least...
Aiight yo, this is day three. The final frontier. (no, I don’t like Star Trek)
Whew, are you tired of reading yet? It’s pretty hefty.
Today was Quan’s day and man was it cool. Our surprise for Quan kinda died before it began, he only kinda liked his batman shirt, and the karaoke place we wanted to go to was closed, but that didn’t stop us! We all had super hero shirts: me, Sam, Anh and Cheryl were the teenage mutant ninja turtles (turtles in a half-shell, TURTLE POWER!!), Kristen was Captain America (freedom, justice and the American way, baby!), Bich and Peter were Superwoman/man, Quan was Batman, and Brian was Spiderman (although his shirt had many a character, so maybe he can be the entire Justice League haha). We set out in our respective cars, got really really lost, tried to buy a map (didn’t happen, the first time around), saw Peter get honked at and almost die in his car, made it to Round Rock (?!?!?!), TX Walmart for Quan’s scavenger hunt. He had clues on little green posties which he had a hard time deciphering, but then this really cool lady who worked there pretty much helped him on all of them. She and Quan got a picture together. As soon as the rest of the group came back to check on his progress, she was outta there to keep her “help” a secret. That was funny. So, it turns out that tough part about Quan’s scavenger hunt was not actually getting all the clues, but shopping through Walmart with a list. =) We had to help him out a bit when he started looking for chocolate in the sporting goods section…
He got all the items and came up with…ingredients for s’mores!!! Woohoo! We’re going out outdoors recreational style! We looped back to past our hotel, past parts of downtown, past a nude man on a bike…, and towards a wonderful park! We had a grand old time finding parking, setting up camp and playing football!!! The KGB versus…the KGB plus (we came up with it first! Haha) It was me, Cheryl, Bich, Brian vs. Anh, Peter, Kristen, and Sam—with Quan as the interchangeable quarterback. More hilarity ensued. At random times we actually caught the ball. There were some impressive moves by Anh who caught many a touchdown, Bich “the steamroller” whose defense was unstoppable, Sam who can play pretty darn well, and all the rest of us eager beavers who did the best we could while the guys tried to make plays out of our antics. Once again, it was fun! =) after that, I performed surgery on Cheryl’s foot using Mcdonalds’ napkins and duct tape. (all on camera, of course). after that was tree time!!! We all gingerly climbed the branches of an old, hoary tree and took pictures of our cautious positions on each branch. Now getting off was the problem. It took the efforts of many, but we all got off without any scrapes or broken bones. Very awesome.
Ahh canoeing aka kayaking (could be either). That was awesomeness defined. After picking our places in each boat, we began to test the waters coordinating our paddles to actually get somewhere. We raced, we crashed (several times), we floated lazily on the waters. Never once did we tip! The funniest and best part was when we hooked our boats together and floated and almost ran into some turtles. We’re such a group we can’t let water part us! Hehe apparently some rowers were practicing so we were always on the lookout for their uniform strokes. We freaked out a couple of times. Anh was ready to jump if need be! But she didn’t. Instead she accidentally hit Sam in the face with the paddle. I saw the aftermath: the profuse apologies, the laughter, the screams, the disorientation. It was a sight to see. A lot of us got whacked with paddles—including me, twice Haha. But it was so funny. I wish we could’ve taped the whole thing. Quan was so funny, he started texting and talking on the phone while we were floating together. It was a classic picture of our modern era. Cheryl, the “clubbing monster” tried to pull us all back to shore with her bare hands and she did pretty well, but we gave her a break which I’m sure she enjoyed. =) I loved it and I wish we could do this all again.
Last but certainly not least we DID do karaoke! Silhouette (remember that because YOU should go there) was perfect. The sushi, the atmosphere, the beautiful bathrooms (I’m being serious here, it was an amazing little potty room!) and of course, classic Michael Jackson made the place like a whiff of heaven. We got our food and took it to this really cool upstairs area where this really chill, long-haired, awesome dude set us up in our karaoke room.
We sang Circle of Life, Hound Dog, Beauty and the Beast, Lady Marmalade, Sunday Bloody Sunday (which Bich is listening to as I type right now), and some awesome Vietnamese songs which we kinda sang along to. We non-viets got one word in a war song that Quan sang (can you guess?): Vietnam. Quan had a seriously good time. And we did too. Filled with soy sauce and darn good seaweed, we sang as loud as we could not caring how well we did or who sang along. It was a perfect experience with which to end Spring Break. After pictures in front of the capitol building, we split up sadly and drove on home. Some of us stuck it out in Austin and some hung out on campus before leaving today, and some us are just staying, but one thing that’ll always be around is the crazy memories that we created in the past 72 hours. I wouldn’t trade these people for the world. =)
Whew, are you tired of reading yet? It’s pretty hefty.
Today was Quan’s day and man was it cool. Our surprise for Quan kinda died before it began, he only kinda liked his batman shirt, and the karaoke place we wanted to go to was closed, but that didn’t stop us! We all had super hero shirts: me, Sam, Anh and Cheryl were the teenage mutant ninja turtles (turtles in a half-shell, TURTLE POWER!!), Kristen was Captain America (freedom, justice and the American way, baby!), Bich and Peter were Superwoman/man, Quan was Batman, and Brian was Spiderman (although his shirt had many a character, so maybe he can be the entire Justice League haha). We set out in our respective cars, got really really lost, tried to buy a map (didn’t happen, the first time around), saw Peter get honked at and almost die in his car, made it to Round Rock (?!?!?!), TX Walmart for Quan’s scavenger hunt. He had clues on little green posties which he had a hard time deciphering, but then this really cool lady who worked there pretty much helped him on all of them. She and Quan got a picture together. As soon as the rest of the group came back to check on his progress, she was outta there to keep her “help” a secret. That was funny. So, it turns out that tough part about Quan’s scavenger hunt was not actually getting all the clues, but shopping through Walmart with a list. =) We had to help him out a bit when he started looking for chocolate in the sporting goods section…
He got all the items and came up with…ingredients for s’mores!!! Woohoo! We’re going out outdoors recreational style! We looped back to past our hotel, past parts of downtown, past a nude man on a bike…, and towards a wonderful park! We had a grand old time finding parking, setting up camp and playing football!!! The KGB versus…the KGB plus (we came up with it first! Haha) It was me, Cheryl, Bich, Brian vs. Anh, Peter, Kristen, and Sam—with Quan as the interchangeable quarterback. More hilarity ensued. At random times we actually caught the ball. There were some impressive moves by Anh who caught many a touchdown, Bich “the steamroller” whose defense was unstoppable, Sam who can play pretty darn well, and all the rest of us eager beavers who did the best we could while the guys tried to make plays out of our antics. Once again, it was fun! =) after that, I performed surgery on Cheryl’s foot using Mcdonalds’ napkins and duct tape. (all on camera, of course). after that was tree time!!! We all gingerly climbed the branches of an old, hoary tree and took pictures of our cautious positions on each branch. Now getting off was the problem. It took the efforts of many, but we all got off without any scrapes or broken bones. Very awesome.
Ahh canoeing aka kayaking (could be either). That was awesomeness defined. After picking our places in each boat, we began to test the waters coordinating our paddles to actually get somewhere. We raced, we crashed (several times), we floated lazily on the waters. Never once did we tip! The funniest and best part was when we hooked our boats together and floated and almost ran into some turtles. We’re such a group we can’t let water part us! Hehe apparently some rowers were practicing so we were always on the lookout for their uniform strokes. We freaked out a couple of times. Anh was ready to jump if need be! But she didn’t. Instead she accidentally hit Sam in the face with the paddle. I saw the aftermath: the profuse apologies, the laughter, the screams, the disorientation. It was a sight to see. A lot of us got whacked with paddles—including me, twice Haha. But it was so funny. I wish we could’ve taped the whole thing. Quan was so funny, he started texting and talking on the phone while we were floating together. It was a classic picture of our modern era. Cheryl, the “clubbing monster” tried to pull us all back to shore with her bare hands and she did pretty well, but we gave her a break which I’m sure she enjoyed. =) I loved it and I wish we could do this all again.
Last but certainly not least we DID do karaoke! Silhouette (remember that because YOU should go there) was perfect. The sushi, the atmosphere, the beautiful bathrooms (I’m being serious here, it was an amazing little potty room!) and of course, classic Michael Jackson made the place like a whiff of heaven. We got our food and took it to this really cool upstairs area where this really chill, long-haired, awesome dude set us up in our karaoke room.
We sang Circle of Life, Hound Dog, Beauty and the Beast, Lady Marmalade, Sunday Bloody Sunday (which Bich is listening to as I type right now), and some awesome Vietnamese songs which we kinda sang along to. We non-viets got one word in a war song that Quan sang (can you guess?): Vietnam. Quan had a seriously good time. And we did too. Filled with soy sauce and darn good seaweed, we sang as loud as we could not caring how well we did or who sang along. It was a perfect experience with which to end Spring Break. After pictures in front of the capitol building, we split up sadly and drove on home. Some of us stuck it out in Austin and some hung out on campus before leaving today, and some us are just staying, but one thing that’ll always be around is the crazy memories that we created in the past 72 hours. I wouldn’t trade these people for the world. =)
Austin, J-choc's view, day two. Here goes!!!
Day two was Bich’s day.
This day was really cool since it was pretty much girl-mode.
First, we went to eat at this really amazing and unique little place called Quack’s. The music was so chill, I probably was only halfway mentally there part of the time. (can’t help loving the music I guess) The rest was great. We got huge cupcakes and cream cheese beauties. Luckily, we all shared. =) they had a lot of drinks, teas, juices and such that I think we all really wanted to try if we had the time. The place was situated in this residential kind of area. A lot of trees, a lot of plants, a lot bikes. It was gorgeous. We got to see a lot of said things because we had to search for it, making a few u-turns along the way. Teehee. But it was totally worthwhile because the scenery around there was great and the company made me chuckle. There was this kennel-looking place right by it. Kristen got excited thinking about her sweet Eliza at home. (very nice looking dog too!) I was kinda bummed because I had a black lab once and she was my favorite dog that I’ve ever had (and I’ve strangely had a lot). Sigh* I miss her now…
So after chilling in Quack’s, watching a bird attack this dude’s cupcake, and taking pictures while finding the bathrooms, we left for THE OUTLET MALL: dream for women, nightmare for men.
It was huge to say the least. We started by walking along the shaded sidewalk lining the stores. I argued about the merits of Express with Brian, adamantly opposed Bich’s buying me short-shorts, and saw a s’mores maker. We went into all the right stores but soon split up to cover more territory. We were soon back again and taking pictures of Anh riding a little kiddy ride. That was funny. We all explored once again, finding stores with nothing good or instead physically shrinking in reaction to stores with huge price tags (sheesh, outlet or what?). We had to pause, move cars and rehydrate before round two of shopping. Clusters of people changed and reformed and shopping got serious. By the time we all met back in A’gaci. (went crazy in there but didn’t buy anything), we were all holding bags from Guess, and Papaya to United Colors of Benetton. We split up yet again and I was indecisive on getting a wallet or not. (I did end up getting it by the way) Quan was pretty tired afterwards. Funny thing he said was that, he’s been through ROTC, camping, endurance training and the like, and he has never been as tired as when he went shopping. Haha =)
After we got back to the hotel, we had a lot of more to do. Before I go on, I must say that that night was pretty much hilarious. We went to a bbq place with every mouth-watering, meat-loving, barbequing selection of food you can think of. It was mighty fine. Everyone ate, Quan ate his food and selections of everyone else’s. It was great. I like how we eat. We’re like a family who picks off each other’s plates and doesn’t care about everyone else’s table manners. This place was cool because on the wall behind us were some cool pictures from past blues performers. I would’ve loved to hear ‘em. There was a cow skull on the wall which didn’t exactly ring well with Kristen, although I tried really hard to convince her of its coolness. Cheryl and Sam made me laugh with their pleas to momma and daddy: Bich and Peter. It was good. Oh, and I learned that parallel parking is something I probably don’t want to do.
After that we went to Amy’s Ice Cream. Cheryl got what was called a Dirty Harry. It looked pretty good. Quan and Brian played checkers on a board while Kristen and Bich watched intently. Me, Anh and Sam looked at clips of their car ride and the hilarity that ensued inside. Then, Cheryl took pictures of Peter who, of course, was disinclined to acquiesce. Hehe Soon the place started filling with pre-pubescent little people, and me and Sam got nervous. When we finally left, things got crazy. Why, you ask? Because we were gonna go clubbing on sixth street!!
We finally get there. All of us were looking pretty fly—both guys and girls. Some were wearing what they had bought that day so they were fresh. We get there—and everyone’s wearing jeans. That’s okay. We still looked pretty pimpin so no complaints here. =) We walk up and down the streets, bump into drunk people, get offered pamphlets and invitations to parties—we even get (how can I say?) solicited for some PCP. Ha well, everything there was pretty much 21 and up, so boo on being young—for a few of us. Ah well. Next time will be better.
Instead we go to (drum roll please) IHOP, classic stop for all late night people. By now it’s about 2 am and we hang out at the IHOP eating crepes and drinking sodas and hot chocolate. We do what we do best: chat amongst ourselves, further strengthening the family vibe we’ve got. With a little help from my friends, I dressed up the coffee pot in napkin wear: complete with apron, shirt and hat (as Cheryl records). It was a nice slow down after a busy day. We all get back to hotel and energy is back up. We made a make-shift tent of sorts, recorded on night vision, and Bich told 5-second scary stories while we laughed and screamed like little girlies. Needless to say, it was classic fun and worth staying up til 4:30/5ish. =)
This day was really cool since it was pretty much girl-mode.
First, we went to eat at this really amazing and unique little place called Quack’s. The music was so chill, I probably was only halfway mentally there part of the time. (can’t help loving the music I guess) The rest was great. We got huge cupcakes and cream cheese beauties. Luckily, we all shared. =) they had a lot of drinks, teas, juices and such that I think we all really wanted to try if we had the time. The place was situated in this residential kind of area. A lot of trees, a lot of plants, a lot bikes. It was gorgeous. We got to see a lot of said things because we had to search for it, making a few u-turns along the way. Teehee. But it was totally worthwhile because the scenery around there was great and the company made me chuckle. There was this kennel-looking place right by it. Kristen got excited thinking about her sweet Eliza at home. (very nice looking dog too!) I was kinda bummed because I had a black lab once and she was my favorite dog that I’ve ever had (and I’ve strangely had a lot). Sigh* I miss her now…
So after chilling in Quack’s, watching a bird attack this dude’s cupcake, and taking pictures while finding the bathrooms, we left for THE OUTLET MALL: dream for women, nightmare for men.
It was huge to say the least. We started by walking along the shaded sidewalk lining the stores. I argued about the merits of Express with Brian, adamantly opposed Bich’s buying me short-shorts, and saw a s’mores maker. We went into all the right stores but soon split up to cover more territory. We were soon back again and taking pictures of Anh riding a little kiddy ride. That was funny. We all explored once again, finding stores with nothing good or instead physically shrinking in reaction to stores with huge price tags (sheesh, outlet or what?). We had to pause, move cars and rehydrate before round two of shopping. Clusters of people changed and reformed and shopping got serious. By the time we all met back in A’gaci. (went crazy in there but didn’t buy anything), we were all holding bags from Guess, and Papaya to United Colors of Benetton. We split up yet again and I was indecisive on getting a wallet or not. (I did end up getting it by the way) Quan was pretty tired afterwards. Funny thing he said was that, he’s been through ROTC, camping, endurance training and the like, and he has never been as tired as when he went shopping. Haha =)
After we got back to the hotel, we had a lot of more to do. Before I go on, I must say that that night was pretty much hilarious. We went to a bbq place with every mouth-watering, meat-loving, barbequing selection of food you can think of. It was mighty fine. Everyone ate, Quan ate his food and selections of everyone else’s. It was great. I like how we eat. We’re like a family who picks off each other’s plates and doesn’t care about everyone else’s table manners. This place was cool because on the wall behind us were some cool pictures from past blues performers. I would’ve loved to hear ‘em. There was a cow skull on the wall which didn’t exactly ring well with Kristen, although I tried really hard to convince her of its coolness. Cheryl and Sam made me laugh with their pleas to momma and daddy: Bich and Peter. It was good. Oh, and I learned that parallel parking is something I probably don’t want to do.
After that we went to Amy’s Ice Cream. Cheryl got what was called a Dirty Harry. It looked pretty good. Quan and Brian played checkers on a board while Kristen and Bich watched intently. Me, Anh and Sam looked at clips of their car ride and the hilarity that ensued inside. Then, Cheryl took pictures of Peter who, of course, was disinclined to acquiesce. Hehe Soon the place started filling with pre-pubescent little people, and me and Sam got nervous. When we finally left, things got crazy. Why, you ask? Because we were gonna go clubbing on sixth street!!
We finally get there. All of us were looking pretty fly—both guys and girls. Some were wearing what they had bought that day so they were fresh. We get there—and everyone’s wearing jeans. That’s okay. We still looked pretty pimpin so no complaints here. =) We walk up and down the streets, bump into drunk people, get offered pamphlets and invitations to parties—we even get (how can I say?) solicited for some PCP. Ha well, everything there was pretty much 21 and up, so boo on being young—for a few of us. Ah well. Next time will be better.
Instead we go to (drum roll please) IHOP, classic stop for all late night people. By now it’s about 2 am and we hang out at the IHOP eating crepes and drinking sodas and hot chocolate. We do what we do best: chat amongst ourselves, further strengthening the family vibe we’ve got. With a little help from my friends, I dressed up the coffee pot in napkin wear: complete with apron, shirt and hat (as Cheryl records). It was a nice slow down after a busy day. We all get back to hotel and energy is back up. We made a make-shift tent of sorts, recorded on night vision, and Bich told 5-second scary stories while we laughed and screamed like little girlies. Needless to say, it was classic fun and worth staying up til 4:30/5ish. =)
Austin, J-choc's view, day one. Aaaand go!
It’s only Wednesday and I’ve already had a pretty intense spring break. How do explain three days of spring break in Austin with the some of the best most original people on the planet. You can’t. BUT I WILL TRY!
Well, it all started with a wish to fly to NY. Didn’t happen, and then came the idea for pretty pimpin' Austin. We set it up around some of our lovely friends’ birthdays. What ensued was… heh I don’t know. I love you guys. =)
So the first day, we gathered downstairs, collected our luggage, and made sure that our good friend Don was “with us” (via a printed picture of his smiling face!). We split up into our respective cars and drove our merry way. While I’ve heard some crazy awesome things in the other cars from “it’s a Peter-car thing” to consensual (or not?) sexual encounters, the car peeps I hung out with, well, we had a great time too. It was me, Brian and Kristen all hanging out while Brian drove. We saw lots of cows and condemned houses, we threw Brian’s food out the sun/moon roof—well, Brian did this once while I held the wheel at like 70mph. Don’t worry, we’re all alive.
We made it to Czech stop (in West, TX—an actual place!!), an awesome bakery with longs lines and delicious smelling Kolaches which were bought and shared all around. Gathered in front of the main entrance, we acted silly and had a good time as usual.
Hopping back into the car, we hit the slowest traffic ever. We creeped into the next city over by mere inches. But that was okay because we made it to our swanky hotel and saw creepy people outside.
Of course we found our respective rooms, watched TV and chilled, then jumped into action when Brian walked through the door a little later. Surprise! It was his day, and man, did he put up a struggle when he was held down and had a shirt shoved down over his face. He ended up liking the shirt. It was Pulp Fiction—it was a great choice and he wore it with pride.
For his birthday, we went to super-fun-happy-zone (hehe) and it was amazing. I bet the food would’ve tasted better if I were a bit younger. BUT-BUT-BUT we had as much fun as any of those ten year olds while in the arcade!! We all went around, choosing different games to play. Quan had this awesome game face while riding a motorcycle game. According to pictures, Sam and Anh had fun shooting up various enemies, and Don even got to play Soul Calibur 2! (with a little bit of help from Cheryl) Me and the guys played a hoops game (very addicting). First, Brian and I played a round, then we frantically got change to buy more tokens for another round, and then we got the rest of guys out for yet another round and just played like nobody’s business. (see the progression?)
Well, then we did DDR (dance dance revolution, baby!) and it was fun. Soon we had teams and everyone was designated a certain half of the dance board. All in all, there was a display of dance moves from: Brian, Kristen, Cheryl, Anh, Bich, Quan, and myself. It was the most ridiculously fun thing I’ve done in awhile, and I’m glad that I did it with these crazy fellows. =)
Whew, still day one.
That night, we went to a pretty nice restaurant. Had some unpronounceable food that we probably might not try again (taste testing other plates became the norm) and had a cool waitress who didn’t laugh at us when we placed Don on the table with a candle in front. She even took our picture for us! The place was beautiful and the atmosphere comfortable and chic. We all dressed like we had it going on. I’d go again in a heartbeat, but I need a $$$-paying job and a handle on the Italian language. (which may take awhile, I think)
The city was amazing at night. The store walls were works of art. All were unique and had their own character which couldn’t by replicated by making chain stores. --Man, I love this city...
We saw a film screening of Bruno. (Brian was pretty excited!) I must say, if there’s anything you can get from Austin, one of those would be an honest, unique, and fun culture. There were lines outside and everyone looked ready to have a good time, regardless of what was up. Where I’m schooling now, I don’t think anybody would be willing to go have fun and do what he/she wanted without wondering who was there or what they looked like. Sorry, segue there...
But yeah, Bruno was so funny it was crazy. I’d love to tell you more, but sorry! Pre-screening! (however, if you haven’t seen Borat you should probably do that first hehe). This guy hosting the event was one of the highlights. He joked around with us, fully convinced me not to record ANY of the event because his suggestions, and was just so cool. Tossing down the mike was just the icing on the already delicious cake.
After that, we made interesting detours (of course we weren’t lost!) around downtown-ish Austin trying to get back to our hotel. (we would end up making a lot of those on this trip) It was a cool night and we saw a lot of sights, but we were kind of pooped afterwards. We had to quit playing Taboo and watching youtube vids. Tomorrow we were gonna be up for quite awhile…..
Well, it all started with a wish to fly to NY. Didn’t happen, and then came the idea for pretty pimpin' Austin. We set it up around some of our lovely friends’ birthdays. What ensued was… heh I don’t know. I love you guys. =)
So the first day, we gathered downstairs, collected our luggage, and made sure that our good friend Don was “with us” (via a printed picture of his smiling face!). We split up into our respective cars and drove our merry way. While I’ve heard some crazy awesome things in the other cars from “it’s a Peter-car thing” to consensual (or not?) sexual encounters, the car peeps I hung out with, well, we had a great time too. It was me, Brian and Kristen all hanging out while Brian drove. We saw lots of cows and condemned houses, we threw Brian’s food out the sun/moon roof—well, Brian did this once while I held the wheel at like 70mph. Don’t worry, we’re all alive.
We made it to Czech stop (in West, TX—an actual place!!), an awesome bakery with longs lines and delicious smelling Kolaches which were bought and shared all around. Gathered in front of the main entrance, we acted silly and had a good time as usual.
Hopping back into the car, we hit the slowest traffic ever. We creeped into the next city over by mere inches. But that was okay because we made it to our swanky hotel and saw creepy people outside.
Of course we found our respective rooms, watched TV and chilled, then jumped into action when Brian walked through the door a little later. Surprise! It was his day, and man, did he put up a struggle when he was held down and had a shirt shoved down over his face. He ended up liking the shirt. It was Pulp Fiction—it was a great choice and he wore it with pride.
For his birthday, we went to super-fun-happy-zone (hehe) and it was amazing. I bet the food would’ve tasted better if I were a bit younger. BUT-BUT-BUT we had as much fun as any of those ten year olds while in the arcade!! We all went around, choosing different games to play. Quan had this awesome game face while riding a motorcycle game. According to pictures, Sam and Anh had fun shooting up various enemies, and Don even got to play Soul Calibur 2! (with a little bit of help from Cheryl) Me and the guys played a hoops game (very addicting). First, Brian and I played a round, then we frantically got change to buy more tokens for another round, and then we got the rest of guys out for yet another round and just played like nobody’s business. (see the progression?)
Well, then we did DDR (dance dance revolution, baby!) and it was fun. Soon we had teams and everyone was designated a certain half of the dance board. All in all, there was a display of dance moves from: Brian, Kristen, Cheryl, Anh, Bich, Quan, and myself. It was the most ridiculously fun thing I’ve done in awhile, and I’m glad that I did it with these crazy fellows. =)
Whew, still day one.
That night, we went to a pretty nice restaurant. Had some unpronounceable food that we probably might not try again (taste testing other plates became the norm) and had a cool waitress who didn’t laugh at us when we placed Don on the table with a candle in front. She even took our picture for us! The place was beautiful and the atmosphere comfortable and chic. We all dressed like we had it going on. I’d go again in a heartbeat, but I need a $$$-paying job and a handle on the Italian language. (which may take awhile, I think)
The city was amazing at night. The store walls were works of art. All were unique and had their own character which couldn’t by replicated by making chain stores. --Man, I love this city...
We saw a film screening of Bruno. (Brian was pretty excited!) I must say, if there’s anything you can get from Austin, one of those would be an honest, unique, and fun culture. There were lines outside and everyone looked ready to have a good time, regardless of what was up. Where I’m schooling now, I don’t think anybody would be willing to go have fun and do what he/she wanted without wondering who was there or what they looked like. Sorry, segue there...
But yeah, Bruno was so funny it was crazy. I’d love to tell you more, but sorry! Pre-screening! (however, if you haven’t seen Borat you should probably do that first hehe). This guy hosting the event was one of the highlights. He joked around with us, fully convinced me not to record ANY of the event because his suggestions, and was just so cool. Tossing down the mike was just the icing on the already delicious cake.
After that, we made interesting detours (of course we weren’t lost!) around downtown-ish Austin trying to get back to our hotel. (we would end up making a lot of those on this trip) It was a cool night and we saw a lot of sights, but we were kind of pooped afterwards. We had to quit playing Taboo and watching youtube vids. Tomorrow we were gonna be up for quite awhile…..
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I'm going to call this, "Title"
The more of life I begin to see, the more I don’t want to necessarily be a part of it. Not in a “give me awesomeness or give me death!” kind of way, but I think it’s like a separate-from-it kind of way. I don’t know if you’ll get what I’m saying so I’ll try some examples. There’s this spot way out where I like to hang out. There’s a neighborhood on the edge of street and the sun sets with the city right behind the line of houses. Sometimes when I just sit there, I see cars coming out of driveways or around the curve of the road and I wonder where they’re going. Maybe they went to pick up something at the store, or are picking up their kids, or maybe they’re going to meet some friends. I imagine them in their cars in their own little 4-wheel subcompact world speeding off to the next appointment on the planner. When I see the same cars come back, it just solidifies in my mind that they did go on some necessary trek to further their life. They got that gallon of milk, they got the kids waiting impatiently on the curb at school, and the party was fun. Everything was great and it worked out. But you can only see that from the outside. That woman or guy in the car is only thinking about that destination, that met goal, or that planned function. Nothing else really matters because it is so necessary to complete that task in order to keep going with the flow of his or her little square of universe. For some reason, I want out. It’s like bouncing in between a line segment with the two ends keeping that infinite ray in place. Or like running madly on a hamster wheel and being in the same place. Or traveling around the world in 80 days and ending right back where you started. It’s a loop, a small bubble, and a box. This all sounds silly, I know, because there’s no way to “get out” of the world. I didn’t want to be an escapist, but it looks like the only way to see what's really going on is to be outside of it. Do you ever truly go anywhere inside of a glass ball? I don’t see how you can. Can you go anywhere else? I wonder too if there is an anywhere else. I don’t know, I just like looking. Being that dude leaning over the fish tank at the all the little fishies swimming, their brains concentrating on getting to the other end of the glass wall enclosing their watery home. Eh, I don’t know if it’s even possible to get out. It’s all one big box. And that’s disappointing.
And what’s frustrating too is that I wonder if God made me this way for a reason…
-J-J-J-Jaychoc! (yo)
And what’s frustrating too is that I wonder if God made me this way for a reason…
-J-J-J-Jaychoc! (yo)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Hello?? Is anyone out there??
This is a shout out to the other half of this blog... who seems to have left the building, dropped of the face of the earth, disappeared into thin air, and in Yen's words, "Where the heck have you been??"
D*sire
D*sire
Deaf Humor
Here's what I was doing when I probably should have been studying for the chem quiz that I bombed today.
I SO feel like this... just about all the time. Unless they purposely slow waaaay down just to patronize me.
Love this guy!! Check him out: That Deaf Cartoonist.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Some REM cycling of merit
I woke up feeling so pumped this morning... and I'm sure you will be glad to know that I am going to tell you why--
I had the most amazing dream.
I saw heaven, and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. But I jump ahead of myself.
The beginning: I was on my way to heaven. I hadn't died; I think it was the rapture or something. Either way, I approached a sort of turnstile gate. For some reason I was approaching this gate with my neighbor from back home (who's my mom's age). I was just sure that this was where God was going to separate the sheep from the goats (from the parable that Jesus tells about separating the believes from the unbelievers on judgment day). So I was fervently trying to convince her that she needs to put her trust in Jesus before it's too late. I went through the whole "get saved" spiel with her, but I don't think she responded. So we approach the turnstile... and we both got in--which perplexed me a bit.
We entered into this squarish waiting room with several other people. After a few minutes Jesus came in and was telling us that there were two options of what would happen next. He started out by saying, "This path [both paths which for some reason involved boats] will be easier. You will have to work some but you will mostly be coasting across the surface of the water." I see a picture of a rowing team/crew flash in my mind--all pulling together, requires some amount of work, but manageable. Then he goes on, "Or the other option will be very difficult..." I see a picture of a small craft rolling and pitching in a tempest, rain beating down--pretty much the classic sea-born storm. "This will be the journey with me." I remember this part very vividly. I didn't skip a beat, didn't have to think at all, but I came over and fell on my knees before him and said, "I just want to be with YOU."
So everyone chose his [Jesus's] path, except for my neighbor and one or two others--this was the "dividing the sheep from the goats" part. So he took us to these double doors. Outside these doors there were white tables and chairs and a stage, kind of like a setup for an outdoor wedding. This was heaven... sorta. So we passed through those doors and we were in heaven. Everyone was so excited. We were all jumping around and grinning and hugging each other. I just remember this overwhelming sense of joy... like my heart was so full like I had never felt before. This is all very cliche to write and describe.. but I felt it... there's just really no way for me to convey that through words other than to utilize the same trite and ineffective words that others before me have turned to out of desperation for expressing the inexpressible. They are... alright... but just don't capture the moment in the same way that I felt it. But anyway, I digress.
I was just so... Happy. Like this worldly stuff didn't matter anymore. Like I finally belonged. (I know, trite again, but also what I felt).
Anh was there. I specifically remember her being there. I think Jamella was there as well, and this girl (Melissa-not Tuttle) from church. But I remember Anh specifically because I noticed what she was wearing. It was this white baby doll top with white cotton capris. When we had entered through those doors, everyone (for the most part) had changed into white clothes. I asked her where she had gotten them because somehow I had known that she hadn't been wearing them before. She pointed over near the double doors at a display with lifesize dolls/mannequin-looking things and she and Jamella and Melissa--all in identical clothes--had all taken them from those dolls. But it wasn't weird in my dream, it was just normal. "Ah.. okay." That sorta thing.
So we were just talking and laughing and being generally very content for awhile. Then things got quiet and a tenseness settled over the crowd. Jesus walked up on the stage and I knew that we were getting ready to go before God for the Final Judgment. (I don't know why we were in heaven before we were judged by God, but for some reason that's how it was in this dream).
Sidebar: One way that I've heard the "Final Judgment" before God described is: we are so sinful and dirty and tainted that we could never stand before God and be found worthy. Never ever, no matter how many good things we do or how many people we help. God requires us to be perfect, to be holy. And everyone, no matter how hard you try, falls short of that standard. That's why Jesus had to die on the cross; it is HIS blood that makes us worthy. It is only by him stepping into the void between us and the standard that God requires that would allow us to bridge that divide. I knew this was about to happen: that we were about to stand before the throne of God and he would not see our iniquities but rather would see Jesus and his blood and his sacrifice instead. We truly are washed in the Blood of the Lamb.
But before this could happen, I knew that we had to stand and be confronted by everything we had ever done wrong--hence the feeling of uneasiness that had arisen in the crowd. The same feeling that rises to the pit of your stomach when you know that you're about to get in trouble for something that you actually did do--that's what was going through the crowd now. I just remember amidst that feeling of overwhelming shamefulness was, "Why didn't I do more when I was alive?" What had I filled my time with, the things that don't matter, that don't have any eternal merit. Why had I wasted all that time and let my Savior, the only one who's opinion and desires matter, the only one that I wanted to please, why had I let him down. Standing before him, I was just so sorry that I had been so selfish during my life, that I had neglected for so long the work that he desired.
It was in this air of tense shameful regret that...
... my alarm went off.
But
I awoke feeling so energized and ready to reprioritize my life. I really have tended to forget that this world is not my home, that I'm not living for me, that I need to take up my cross and follow Jesus. That the road with him is not always the easiest but that because it's the road with HIM, it's totally worth it. I just remember the feeling of absolutely no hesitancy when I fell on my face before Jesus, the Rock of my Salvation, and said that I will absolutely follow him no matter what because I just want to be near him. It was a very personal love that I felt for him.
And I was also impacted by that sense of shame and of "why didn't I do more with my life, why was I so self-centered and neglectful of Him in my life" as I prepared to stand in judgment before Jesus.
What a powerful dream. A very emotional and thought-provoking mixture of intense happiness/fulfillment, utter shamefulness and contrition, and absolute certainty of what truly matters in my life.
Phew. How exhausting.. I need a nap after such an exhausting dream.
-D*Sire-
I had the most amazing dream.
I saw heaven, and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. But I jump ahead of myself.
The beginning: I was on my way to heaven. I hadn't died; I think it was the rapture or something. Either way, I approached a sort of turnstile gate. For some reason I was approaching this gate with my neighbor from back home (who's my mom's age). I was just sure that this was where God was going to separate the sheep from the goats (from the parable that Jesus tells about separating the believes from the unbelievers on judgment day). So I was fervently trying to convince her that she needs to put her trust in Jesus before it's too late. I went through the whole "get saved" spiel with her, but I don't think she responded. So we approach the turnstile... and we both got in--which perplexed me a bit.
We entered into this squarish waiting room with several other people. After a few minutes Jesus came in and was telling us that there were two options of what would happen next. He started out by saying, "This path [both paths which for some reason involved boats] will be easier. You will have to work some but you will mostly be coasting across the surface of the water." I see a picture of a rowing team/crew flash in my mind--all pulling together, requires some amount of work, but manageable. Then he goes on, "Or the other option will be very difficult..." I see a picture of a small craft rolling and pitching in a tempest, rain beating down--pretty much the classic sea-born storm. "This will be the journey with me." I remember this part very vividly. I didn't skip a beat, didn't have to think at all, but I came over and fell on my knees before him and said, "I just want to be with YOU."
So everyone chose his [Jesus's] path, except for my neighbor and one or two others--this was the "dividing the sheep from the goats" part. So he took us to these double doors. Outside these doors there were white tables and chairs and a stage, kind of like a setup for an outdoor wedding. This was heaven... sorta. So we passed through those doors and we were in heaven. Everyone was so excited. We were all jumping around and grinning and hugging each other. I just remember this overwhelming sense of joy... like my heart was so full like I had never felt before. This is all very cliche to write and describe.. but I felt it... there's just really no way for me to convey that through words other than to utilize the same trite and ineffective words that others before me have turned to out of desperation for expressing the inexpressible. They are... alright... but just don't capture the moment in the same way that I felt it. But anyway, I digress.
I was just so... Happy. Like this worldly stuff didn't matter anymore. Like I finally belonged. (I know, trite again, but also what I felt).
Anh was there. I specifically remember her being there. I think Jamella was there as well, and this girl (Melissa-not Tuttle) from church. But I remember Anh specifically because I noticed what she was wearing. It was this white baby doll top with white cotton capris. When we had entered through those doors, everyone (for the most part) had changed into white clothes. I asked her where she had gotten them because somehow I had known that she hadn't been wearing them before. She pointed over near the double doors at a display with lifesize dolls/mannequin-looking things and she and Jamella and Melissa--all in identical clothes--had all taken them from those dolls. But it wasn't weird in my dream, it was just normal. "Ah.. okay." That sorta thing.
So we were just talking and laughing and being generally very content for awhile. Then things got quiet and a tenseness settled over the crowd. Jesus walked up on the stage and I knew that we were getting ready to go before God for the Final Judgment. (I don't know why we were in heaven before we were judged by God, but for some reason that's how it was in this dream).
Sidebar: One way that I've heard the "Final Judgment" before God described is: we are so sinful and dirty and tainted that we could never stand before God and be found worthy. Never ever, no matter how many good things we do or how many people we help. God requires us to be perfect, to be holy. And everyone, no matter how hard you try, falls short of that standard. That's why Jesus had to die on the cross; it is HIS blood that makes us worthy. It is only by him stepping into the void between us and the standard that God requires that would allow us to bridge that divide. I knew this was about to happen: that we were about to stand before the throne of God and he would not see our iniquities but rather would see Jesus and his blood and his sacrifice instead. We truly are washed in the Blood of the Lamb.
But before this could happen, I knew that we had to stand and be confronted by everything we had ever done wrong--hence the feeling of uneasiness that had arisen in the crowd. The same feeling that rises to the pit of your stomach when you know that you're about to get in trouble for something that you actually did do--that's what was going through the crowd now. I just remember amidst that feeling of overwhelming shamefulness was, "Why didn't I do more when I was alive?" What had I filled my time with, the things that don't matter, that don't have any eternal merit. Why had I wasted all that time and let my Savior, the only one who's opinion and desires matter, the only one that I wanted to please, why had I let him down. Standing before him, I was just so sorry that I had been so selfish during my life, that I had neglected for so long the work that he desired.
It was in this air of tense shameful regret that...
... my alarm went off.
But
I awoke feeling so energized and ready to reprioritize my life. I really have tended to forget that this world is not my home, that I'm not living for me, that I need to take up my cross and follow Jesus. That the road with him is not always the easiest but that because it's the road with HIM, it's totally worth it. I just remember the feeling of absolutely no hesitancy when I fell on my face before Jesus, the Rock of my Salvation, and said that I will absolutely follow him no matter what because I just want to be near him. It was a very personal love that I felt for him.
And I was also impacted by that sense of shame and of "why didn't I do more with my life, why was I so self-centered and neglectful of Him in my life" as I prepared to stand in judgment before Jesus.
What a powerful dream. A very emotional and thought-provoking mixture of intense happiness/fulfillment, utter shamefulness and contrition, and absolute certainty of what truly matters in my life.
Phew. How exhausting.. I need a nap after such an exhausting dream.
-D*Sire-
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Okay. On a bit more serious note. I've been debating about whether or not (and how) to mention this...
I found out last Monday that my grandma has ovarian cancer... and it's not a good one to have (if there is such a thing as a 'good' cancer). She goes to see the oncologist Thursday so we'll know more then, but from what they know so far, if the treatment/surgery/chemo all work the best possible she still only has more or less three years left. And there's not even a good chance that the treatment will work that well...
So, needless to say Monday was not a good night.
But, since then, I'm kinda in the limbo state of "I don't know what to do." I can't just go see her, but then again, those times are so numbered now that I'm wondering if I shouldn't being trying to somehow get up there the most I can. How can I keep living as normal when I know she's dying with every day? It has definitely put a bit of perspective in my life, but this is the first time I've ever really had to deal with something like this... so I still have this surreal feeling, infused with waves of sadness.
-D*sire
I found out last Monday that my grandma has ovarian cancer... and it's not a good one to have (if there is such a thing as a 'good' cancer). She goes to see the oncologist Thursday so we'll know more then, but from what they know so far, if the treatment/surgery/chemo all work the best possible she still only has more or less three years left. And there's not even a good chance that the treatment will work that well...
So, needless to say Monday was not a good night.
But, since then, I'm kinda in the limbo state of "I don't know what to do." I can't just go see her, but then again, those times are so numbered now that I'm wondering if I shouldn't being trying to somehow get up there the most I can. How can I keep living as normal when I know she's dying with every day? It has definitely put a bit of perspective in my life, but this is the first time I've ever really had to deal with something like this... so I still have this surreal feeling, infused with waves of sadness.
-D*sire
Thursday, January 8, 2009
a little bit too honest I think
I want to show anybody who reads this a wonderful passage from James Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
"He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself:
-A day of dappled seaborne clouds.-
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonised in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of the words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language many-coloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose."
So beautiful. I think Joyce is going to be my new best friend.
But, we can't be best friends because we live in two different times and come from two different backgrounds. He can wander the countryside and write prose, but I have to study and work and compete. If there was some way I could just tell you how much Joyce means to me I would. I would ramble on about how each passage was beautiful and written from a mind that decided to be free from all that whatever stuff that proves one is normal. Normal. Interesting word. An adjective that pretty much describes what the majority of everyone is doing. That's normal. Anything else is weird. Not popular. Not normal. Like Easterbrook lectured, ideas that have meshed into what is called "common sense". Get it?
While thinking about writing this out, I listened to Snow Patrol's Make This Go on Forever, and at the end, he sings, "please just save me from this darkness" Man, I am so depressing. And strangely honest at 1:30 in the morning. Eh whatever. I'm done. Joyce is pretty awesome and I want to read more of his works. I told a certain friend to mine to read the short story "The Dead" from his Dubliners. (haha yes, I still want you to read it!)
Okay. I'm being melodramatic and my self-consciousness is finally kicking in. I'm done.
-Jchoc, yo
"He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself:
-A day of dappled seaborne clouds.-
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonised in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of the words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language many-coloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose."
So beautiful. I think Joyce is going to be my new best friend.
But, we can't be best friends because we live in two different times and come from two different backgrounds. He can wander the countryside and write prose, but I have to study and work and compete. If there was some way I could just tell you how much Joyce means to me I would. I would ramble on about how each passage was beautiful and written from a mind that decided to be free from all that whatever stuff that proves one is normal. Normal. Interesting word. An adjective that pretty much describes what the majority of everyone is doing. That's normal. Anything else is weird. Not popular. Not normal. Like Easterbrook lectured, ideas that have meshed into what is called "common sense". Get it?
While thinking about writing this out, I listened to Snow Patrol's Make This Go on Forever, and at the end, he sings, "please just save me from this darkness" Man, I am so depressing. And strangely honest at 1:30 in the morning. Eh whatever. I'm done. Joyce is pretty awesome and I want to read more of his works. I told a certain friend to mine to read the short story "The Dead" from his Dubliners. (haha yes, I still want you to read it!)
Okay. I'm being melodramatic and my self-consciousness is finally kicking in. I'm done.
-Jchoc, yo
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Yeah, I don't know what to call this so we'll just call it this
So I have hung out with all the people I still keep up with from high school--all three of them (lame I know, but c'est la vie). All in the past week or so. And it's kind of been a collision of worlds. Parts of me and our memories and our...zeitgeist (not sure if it works, but it's what I came up with at the moment) when we're together are all the same; the same now as in high school as in middle school and on back (as applicable). But there are other things about them and me and our lives that are worlds apart from who we were and that connection that we had previously had. It's a very odd mixture--almost an emulsion of sorts--of old and new, sometimes comfortable like a favorite sneaker and sometimes strained like an awkward situation. Still not sure what to do with it yet.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
BIG sister moment!
Two big firsts today!
1. I rode in the car with my younger brother driving for the first time! Admittedly, it was a bit scary. He's a pretty fresh driver, but we didn't crash (obviously, well actually, no, I could be typing this in a hospital, but thank goodness I'm not. ok sorry)and we're all okay! He was a bit shaky, but I bet it was because he was nervous with all of us in there. It made me smile because I remember when I first started driving and the stuff I ALWAYS did wrong. It was kind of nice in a hey-i'm proud-of-you-little-bro kind of way.
2. My other bro had a wrestling tourney today and he did so well! We're going to watch him in the semifinals tomorrow! pre-tty pimp-in! haha He looked great, all focused and intense. He handled himself well on and off the mat. Even watching him hang out with his fellow teammates made me proud. I can see him in college. That makes me proud. He's been growing up since I've been gone. =)
Overall, pretty happy about them--not so much about myself. I hope that gets better. Where I am relative to being an autonomous working adult is changing monthy, daily, hourly, minutely and secondly! (the last two aren't words, I know. But I really wanted to emphasize the point)
Perhaps I have my own growing up to do.
-Jchoc, yo
1. I rode in the car with my younger brother driving for the first time! Admittedly, it was a bit scary. He's a pretty fresh driver, but we didn't crash (obviously, well actually, no, I could be typing this in a hospital, but thank goodness I'm not. ok sorry)and we're all okay! He was a bit shaky, but I bet it was because he was nervous with all of us in there. It made me smile because I remember when I first started driving and the stuff I ALWAYS did wrong. It was kind of nice in a hey-i'm proud-of-you-little-bro kind of way.
2. My other bro had a wrestling tourney today and he did so well! We're going to watch him in the semifinals tomorrow! pre-tty pimp-in! haha He looked great, all focused and intense. He handled himself well on and off the mat. Even watching him hang out with his fellow teammates made me proud. I can see him in college. That makes me proud. He's been growing up since I've been gone. =)
Overall, pretty happy about them--not so much about myself. I hope that gets better. Where I am relative to being an autonomous working adult is changing monthy, daily, hourly, minutely and secondly! (the last two aren't words, I know. But I really wanted to emphasize the point)
Perhaps I have my own growing up to do.
-Jchoc, yo
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Sometimes I get this yearning to be great at something--to be the best _________ (fill in the blank). Or if not THE best, at least up there to where people recognize me.
But then the practical side kicks in asking me WHAT exactly I would be the best in, and I have no answer. I'm not great at anything--average Jo, okay at a few things but renowned at nothing.
So the idealist part retorts with, I'll just devote all my free time to developing one of those 'okay' things.
But what extra time? And really I don't have that kinda determination--hence the numerous half-assed hobbies.
So I sit back with this perpetual feeling of discontent and bury it in the back corner in my head until it decides to resurface at a future time.
-D*sire
But then the practical side kicks in asking me WHAT exactly I would be the best in, and I have no answer. I'm not great at anything--average Jo, okay at a few things but renowned at nothing.
So the idealist part retorts with, I'll just devote all my free time to developing one of those 'okay' things.
But what extra time? And really I don't have that kinda determination--hence the numerous half-assed hobbies.
So I sit back with this perpetual feeling of discontent and bury it in the back corner in my head until it decides to resurface at a future time.
-D*sire
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