Updates from My Life

I had a great epiphany two days ago at one in the morning. Obviously, said epiphany never materialized in the blogosphere. Whatever; I have other things on my mind these days. It is good to check in with my virtual peeps, however, so prepare for an update on my life.

At the end of April I went to Wellington, the cutest little capital in the world, to visit the Beloved Boyfriend for his twenty-first birthday. Five blissful days restored me to sanity, filled me with laughter and provided me with enough lovey-dovey time to make it through the end of the semester. I still love him. Amazing.

Upon my return I was swept into the Great Flat Drama, which managed to resolve itself without any help from the participants. Funny how these things go away if left alone.

In other news, my little corner of the world has received the MOST rain in the entire country of New Zealand during the past two days. I think it rained - no, poured - for forty-eight hours straight. Needless to say, the house on the end of the street is perilously close to falling into the river and washing through the middle of campus before heading out to sea.

I have two big research papers outlined and ready to start; both are due at the end of May, leaving me with three weeks to study for three exams. At my home university, students are given two days to recover from classes before finals begin. The fact that I have close to a month is bizarre. What am I going to do with all that extra time? I mean, come on, it's not like I study or anything.

Not much else is happening, kiddies. I return home in the early part of July to my usual life of girl friends, work, driving and being pampered by my family. Between now and then, I might go skiing with the Beloved Boyfriend. We might go kayaking instead. We will definitely go driving, parking, and see some movies at the cinema. I have to spend as much time with him as possible in preparation for a long, long drought. But, life is about overcoming obstacles.

And in all honesty, it'll be good to go home.

Cheers!
WolfGrrl

Holiday Paradox

It is a truth universally acknowledged that I am not very productive in spring or autumn. Perhaps it comes from being perpetually on an academic schedule; perhaps it is simply that I enjoy spring and autumn weather more than the rest of the year. Whatever the reason, I am disinclined to acquiesce to the requests of professors, professionals and other deadline-makers.

Being a student abroad has its perks, one of which is that I am on a semi-permanent holiday. It is highly convenient to be able to wander up to the shops and browse for an hour or two in the middle of the day, for no reason other than I want to wander. I go to bookshops and smell the books. I go to fancy boutiques and try on ball gowns. I go to expensive shoe stores and pretend to be fabulously wealthy as I parade around in Italian leather heels. Then I go back to Uni and write a bibliography while eating lollies.

It's a good life. Even if I'm not very productive.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that sunny autumn days are a blessing. Especially in Dunedin, where the weather in winter takes on a distinctly Scottish tone.

Today is a sunny autumn day, and I am not being productive. This weekend's forecast seems even less so, but, as I am about to go on a holiday during my holiday, I should probably get some work done.

Have a few New Zealand pictures, while I'm at it. It's been a while.

Bisous
WolfGrrl

Meeeeeeeerrrrrr

I hate being sick. If it's not sinus headaches and a sore throat, it's a random rash that resembles measles and scarlet fever.

The only benefit in all of this is that if I'm going to be sick, better get on with it before I go overseas.
Still, this is not motivating me to study for my exam this evening. Not at all...

WolfGrrl

This Has Been an Update

Waiting for my last class of the day to start strikes me as a fitting time to write a blog post. Readers, it is almost the end of the semester and I couldn't feel better...well, maybe I could if my headache would go away. Ugh. But, aside from that (and the weird looks I've been getting all day - more on that in a second) this has been a pretty nice day.

For those of you who can't read (or don't own a calendar), today is the third of December and where I am the weather is a sunny 72 degrees Fahrenheit. In December. I am wearing fleece lined boots and sweatpants, and getting judgmental looks from my running-short sporting peers. It's winter, people! Uggs and sweatpants are now socially acceptable! Sigh.

Still, given how much rain depresses me, I shouldn't complain about the sun. In other news, I have begun the process of moving back into my room at home (hrmmm), a two-week, labor intensive endeavour that is the bane of any student's existence twice yearly. Still, it hasn't been too ghastly; one benefit of being a third year is that I've done this five times already. Packing is one of those skills that improves with practice.

It looks like class is starting, Reader, so I'd better get into my notes and start thinking...critically. Oh joy. It looks as though they will finally return our mid-semester exams to us. (The last day of classes is this Wednesday.)

I know what you're thinking: if they can return things so late, why can't I turn them in so late?

Me too, Reader, me too.
WolfGrrl

Murphy's Closet

Sometimes I really question my ability to dress myself. Have you ever had a day where everything you put on feels sloppy and awkward? I turn my bed, closet, dresser and desk into clothing mountains and still end up standing around in my underwear cursing.

What is one supposed to do on a day where achieving a satisfactory (we're not even going for perfect or hot, folks) look is just impossible? Usually I end up looking at the clock, panicking, and throwing on some running shorts and a t-shirt. Basic and at least comfortable.

I guess this is our old friend Murphy popping up to annoy us; I didn't think he wrote a law about clothing, but hey, given the prevelance of the issue, it seems probable.

I deliberately buy clothes in solid colors where I can mix and match to create different outfits from a few pieces. But I swear, maybe it's time to change the way I shop; this back-to-basics thing just isn't working right now. And stealing my roommate's clothes on a daily basis both sets a bad precedent and is rude.

My final outfit (after I got fed up with digging through my dresser and put on the first thing I found) is yesterday's white tank top and a black skirt. All that work, and I look...muh.

Perhaps there's a reason why the adjective of the day is so frequently 'muh.'
WolfGrrl

Profligate?

Sometimes I wonder whether or not I am spoiled.
No, let me rephrase.
Sometimes I wonder to what extent I am spoiled. I understand and ruefully acknolwedge that I am and always will be spoiled. Anyone growing up in a stable, loving, inclusive environment with a supportive family (and a financially solvent one) is spoiled.

But, to my parents, please rest assured that I shall probably never be one of those people who can spend large sums of money at the drop of a hat.

Today I purchased a computer with two-thirds of my own money (meaning I paid for two-thirds of the item and the tax). I have never spent so much. I agonized, aloud and privately, to myself for three days. Finally, as with most of my decisions, I got fed up with the two sides of my consciousness yelling back and forth and bought the darn thing to shut them up.

Gulp.
One parent (and my boyfriend) despise the kind of computer I just bought. The other parent is, dare I say, indifferent. However, it's me not them that purchased and will use this shiny new toy. And, as I have been told (and am beginning to see) I am 100% stubborn when I fix my mind on something. Oh dear.

I feel rational, and at the same time giddy with the knowledge that I just signed myself up for a year of no scones, no movies, and no books or clothes. I will be saving everything I make and am given in order to rebuild the nest egg I just diminished.

Was it worth it? I don't know. I honestly don't know. But, this is life after all. You make choices, rooted in good or bad desires, and they turn out to be good or bad choices. I take comfort in the fact that I a) got an almost $200 discount on this computer, and b) it will both significantly broaden my ability to function in the world and ease my travels in the spring. (Hopefully.)

Oh dear. The money. Ahhhhhh...
WolfGrrl

Aren't I Annoying?

When I'm bored or procrastinating or trying to remain calm, I clean. I organize.
Yesterday I organized my blog. Again.

Sorry to those of you who pop in and make a frustrated noise when you discover that I've changed things AGAIN. To those of you who like what I've done - Thanks, I try.

I would like to remind all of you about the blog I started this spring with my friend gasybeans. She and I both enjoy writing, (even if we're slack about posting what we write). I have updated, and I'll try to do so more often and encourage her to do the same. We do have busy lives, however, so promises are only as good as the motivation behind them. The link is here: Sketchy Scribbles

Well. Let's see...

I slept in. What is this new business of staying up all night and then sleeping all morning? I never understood it when my sister was going through this phase, perhaps because my teenage years were spent in anxious depression. Fwah. Whatever. I need to write a paper, and reader, the thought is both demoralizing and scary. My poor professor; I promised to have the draft done byThursday for him to critique. I think we all know that didn't happen.

It's time to get up. I have a rather productive day to get going on, although part of me doesn't want to wake my roommate. (She can sleep for ten hours or more at a time; I am in awe.)

I wish you all a cheerful Saturday (oh God, it's homecoming, isn't it? Crap. For those that don't know, Homecoming in an American tradition involving football, lots of university alums, alcohol, and food. And loud music.) It might be evil of me, but I hope the rain continues.

Oh, I'm going to pay for that comment karma-wise.

Whoops.
WolfGrrl

The Little Things

I think the best things in life are the little things you don't notice until they go wrong or disappear. The satisfaction I get from cleaning my room, or washing my lunch dishes, or baking a cake that doesn't fall is equal to the satisfaction I get when I finish a semester at school or pass an exam.

I like to wake up and talk to my boyfriend. I like to know that he's smiling just as stupidly as I am. I like to send my friends funny things I find in my daily life, or update them on something random that happened to me in the grocery store. I like finding a jar of Nutella for $4.65. I like seeing the dog stretch, or feel the cat rub her head against my side as she dozes next to me on the sofa.

I like to laugh. I like to watch Pride and Prejudice and clap when Darcy and Lizzie get married. I like to take a nap, and wake up with all of my stuffed animals on top of me or in my arms. I like to watch Lord of the Rings with my mama, or tease my daddy on the phone.

Who isn't satisfied by catching the bus on time, washing your hair, eating a cookie, vacuuming the floor? I washed my car (an event and a half), but it was so pleasant to see it sparkle in the sun. And I got a suntan as well! I like to write a sentence that is so beautifully balanced, it sings like the hills in The Emperor's New Groove. We can learn from Kuzco and Pacha. Simplicity is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

(And so is finding a towel to clean up the spilled water on the kitchen floor, hrmmm)

Cheers!
Wolfgrrl

My Story

I think it is time to tell you all another story.

For some of you, this might be hard to hear. For others of you, it might be hard to face. Believe me when I say, it was definitely hard to live. But honesty is freedom from fear. I will never be completely honest, nor completely free, nor completely unafraid. I can only do what I have never done before. Therefore, let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time there was an average girl. She had dark hair and dark eyes, and she was an intelligent, happy child. She had two parents who didn't get divorced and a younger sister. She lived in a blue house on the East Coast, and played outside and pretended she didn't know how to read.

Once upon a time this average girl grew up - just a little - and had to go to school. She went to public school for the first time as a third-grader. It was hard; there were too many kids, all different from her, all louder and more rambunctious and more aggressive than her. She wilted, like a flower in the harsh summer sun. She failed to adjust, and her mother pulled her out of school.

Once upon a time, a year later, this girl tried again. She wasn't happy, but she was stubborn. She put her head down and found things to like about school. She made tentative acquaintances. She hid her fear and worry and sadness and discomfort in attitude and sarcasm. She learned to build walls to hide from the world. She stayed in school.

Once upon a time, this girl spiraled downward. She knew things that children shouldn't know. She understood too much of what happened around her. She saw that she was different, and how the other kids treated those who are different. She understood right and wrong, active and passive. She chose to be passive in the hopes that no one would think she was wrong. She chose silence; she chose hiding. She chose to fade...away.

Once upon a time, this average girl went to middle school. She suffered: it was bigger, it was louder, it was meaner than elementary school. She set her teeth and reinforced her walls and heard only the phrase "You must." So she did. She stayed in school. She got sick a lot; not sick in the body, but sick in the mind. She fought private wars and killed her classmates in dreams. She screamed, inside, and she covered her ears and pasted a sarcastic smile on her face so she didn't have to hear the noise.

Once upon a time, this middle-school girl came to a dark place. She came to a place some adults don't ever reach. She looked at herself in the mirror and she saw a body of lies and deceptions and taunts. She wasn't bullied and she wasn't a bully. She was invisible. She was a 'good student.' She was just...another...statistic.

Once upon a time this girl went to high school, still gritting her teeth, still screaming inside. She tried to fight; she tried to cut and run. She failed. She followed the rule of "You must" and went to high school. She performed well; she endured. Happiness was...inconsequential. Happiness was for people who liked themselves and felt needed in the world.

Once upon a time, this high school girl tried to change. Just a little, just enough to like herself. And she liked the changes she saw. She liked them so much, she decided to make bigger changes. The changes snowballed; the consequences grew. This girl became anorexic. She counted every mouthful, and each mouthful, each number, carried her farther from the world she had never been a part of. She began to forget what was real and what wasn't.

Once upon a time, this anoreixc girl became afraid. She was intelligent; she knew what was happening. Finally the consequences became so severe she couldn't ignore them. She broke under the weight of "You must." She broke, and she found that breaking isn't the end of the world. Breaking means that others help you rise. She learned to ask for help. Just a little. But it was enough to save her life. It was enough to give her a life.

Once upon a time, this broken girl lifted her head and said "I am me." She fought hard to find out who this 'me' was, and she is still fighting. But she has owned the sadness and fear and pain. She has owned the feelings of loneliness and grief and inadequacy. She has accepted that she is a 'me' and not a 'you.' She doesn't follow the rule of "You must" any more.

This is the story of a girl. This is my story. I hope you can understand; I hope I've told it in a way that helps you see that it's your story too. We all have "You must" in our lives. We all have our stories. I am not anything special. I am not the best or worst among all the humans that have ever lived on this little blue planet orbiting an ordinary star. But I am a 'me' and not a 'you.' The world tries to say that "You must." I'm here to say that "I am me."

WolfGrrl

The Men I Love

I thought that, since I feel so happy and beautiful today, I would dedicate this post to the men I love.

There aren't very many of them, but the ones I have are very, very special, much as a rare object is infinitely more precious than a common one. I will start with the man I've known the longest and progress from there.

My daddy is first among the men I love. He is like an orange: his peel is thick and sharp tasting, and it leaves a bitter residue on your hands when you try to break it. But inside he is full of zest and snap, lively and strong. My daddy is difficult to get to know, but when you know him you understand that he is almost too special to be real. He's too much for this world - too smart, too funny, and far too compassionate. It causes him to struggle to find his place, or to reconcile himself to never finding his place.

I love you, Daddy. I don't say it often enough. I hope you know; I will try to tell you more often.

My grandfather is the second man I love, and I haven't known him all that long. Both of my blood grandfathers have passed away, but my maternal step-grandfather (that's a mouthful) is a wonderful man who makes my grandmother very, very happy. What more can you ask than that? He is funny and mischvievous, with a big heart and a bigger sense of right and wrong. He tells tall tales and makes me laugh and bicker and feel alive. He struggles too, I think, to adjust to the notion that the world is changing and that he is changing.

I love you, Grandpa. I hope you know that every time I hug you, that's why.

The last man I love I've known the shortest time of all. I am a person who falls in and out of love easily, but has never, ever, fallen in Love. Those of you who know me, or who read this blog, (or both), may have recognized the signs. This isn't the right time or place to confirm or deny that. I have always felt that there was one person out there for me; it's a little cliche and a little frightening, to think of having only one match out of 7 billion people. I don't know very many of those 7 billion people, but of the ones I do know, this man is the only one I've met that I could Love. And that is an incredible thing.

(You know who you are, so there's no need for me to announce it to the world. I want to tell you first.)

So now you know the three men I love. I would give them sunshine and laughter and happiness every day, forever, if I could. I would wrestle sharks, eat cabbage, and face catepillers for them.

This is a song for those men. It applies to you all, one way or another.
Stealing Cinderella

WolfGrrl

The Great Balancing Act

Life for me is all about choices.

A friend once told me that there are some things you do just so that you can look back on them and say you regretted doing it. I didn't really understand what he meant at the time.

All my life I have made the choice not to act. In any way - healthy, unhealthy, for personal happiness or universal happiness. I just chose not to choose, and so remove myself (as much as it can be done) from the world. But adults don't function this way. And I've found, to my astonishment, that I no longer want to be a child. I have passed, somewhere in the last six months, that subtle marker of adulthood. I have begun, at last, to make choices and take responsibility for myself.

Thus, the balancing act.

It is hard for all of us - me and my parents - to go through this process. I'm sure I'll make a regretable choice somewhere down the line, and have a story, as my friend said. Personally, I am a pleaser: I derive great satisfaction from making others happy. It's only recently (very recently) that I derive pleasure from making myself happy too.

I have a choice to make. It is not the end of the world, but it is a significant choice. I want to make the correct choice...for me, for my family, and for my friends. I want to make the "perfect" choice.

Reader, I'm sure you know by now that there's no such thing as perfection. If perfection is unattainable, perhaps I should seek pleasure instead, and make the choice that pleases. But who should I please? Myself? My parents? My friends? Society? Here, then, is the balancing act of life.

For this choice I must balance the drive for perfection with the drive for pleasure. I believe in and accept the whims of Fate; that doesn't mean I can't help Fate out a bit. The best laid plans are those which are strong enough to support change. In making my choice I must account for all the What-Ifs as well as the sunny sides. That is another balancing act.

My job is to balance all of these things - perfection, pleasure, and Fate - and make choices. Above all, I must choose. I choose to live; I chose to live a while ago, but it is something that must be reaffirmed every day. Living is more than eating and sleeping and breathing. Living is being happy. Living is being miserable. Living is being engaged with the world and those who populate it.

Living is a balancing act.
WolfGrrl

The Happiness Factor

I’ve discovered the definition of happiness.

Happiness is being transported out of yourself, out of ordinary life. It doesn’t mean you’re removed from the ordinary world, but that you transcend it. You are on a plane of existence where it’s OK to be silly, or tearful, or bubbling over with laughter. Effervescence is OK when you’re happy.

It’s the magic of drinking starlight and the warmth of drinking sunlight. A golden froth that burns low inside you, humming in every part of your being until you have to jump, or smile, to look ahead because you can’t and don’t want to keep it inside yourself. You’re lighter; so light you can float, or dance, or fly. Happiness is electrifying because it intensifies all that is wondrous and gently releases all that is painful or upsetting.

We are truly blessed that we can be happy, and those who cannot recognize happiness are truly cursed. It is the world’s most simple healer, a balm to anything and everything. Happiness connects us; it’s something inside of us that says “Yes, I’m here. Yes, I am. Yes. Thank you.”

There’s truth in those cliched adages you hear as you go through life: Standing on top of the world; Jumping for joy. I have stood on top of the world; I have jumped for joy (though I never imagined it was possible). I have been so happy I’ve jettisoned all dignity and spun in circles until I fell over just because the sun was shining, because I was with my friends, because I was.

Those of us who radiate happiness have the power to summon it in others. I read a saying once on the inside of a public bathroom stall that said, “If you see someone without a smile, give them one of yours.”

Happiness and fulfillment aren’t the same, but they can walk hand in hand like siblings. For me, the distinction between happiness and fulfillment is one of people: when I’m happy, there’s always a person involved. My crush smiled at me, my friend hugged me for no reason I could think of, a baby waved and laughed when he saw me, or my favorite TV characters got together. I am fulfilled when I complete something; when I can stand back and say that I’m satisfied, or when others are satisfied. I am fulfilled when I can make a positive change in my surroundings, but I am happy when I can make a positive change in a person around me. So you see how happiness and fulfillment are complements, and how often we feel both, together, to the point where we begin to think them inseparable.

Life hurts. Happiness is the compensation for – the other side of – that pain. We lose people and things every day: sometimes to Death, sometimes to Time, sometimes to just the ordinary process of living. But happiness pulls us back together like a mooring line, preventing us from drifting so far apart we can find nothing to share. When a smile no longer can gently lift the film of reality from another’s perspective then we’ll know that we’ve gone too far and the human experience has become so microscopic in scale we no longer see each other as a race, as a species.

The sensations of happiness, the invocation of that brightness of spirit and self by something or someone else – is transcendent across borders and nationalities and cultures: all humans, everywhere, that have ever come before and will ever come after, have felt that. We have all drunk the sun-and-starlight potion of joy. And that we have keeps us together when free will, when God or fate or chaos theory contrives to pull us all apart. Haven’t you had that sense, when you’re happy, that you can do anything, be anyone, overcome any impediment before you? I have. Happiness makes men and women mightier than gods, more powerful than any construction of faith or will or science. In happiness, we are invincible. 

WolfGrrl