Month: October 2014

I spent most of the weekend alone here. To be precise, Friday evening, Saturday, and some of Sunday morning.

It’s the first time since I got here, or even in my whole time in Germany that this has happened.

It made me really sad and unmotivated. At first I felt paralyzed by feeling down, not really knowing what to do. It was really lonely and sobering. I know one of the main reasons, the most important one, I came here is for my relationship and without a constant visual reminder it was unsettling. I kind of thought, what now? What do I do now that I’m alone here? And suddenly the things I had to do all just seemed not as important, made me realize what I was doing.

I kind of wallowed in that for the better part of the day, relaxing, trying to do some exercise, eat, try to plan the day.

And then I had this moment, where I picked myself up and said, no.

No.

I have things I want to do here, things I’ve committed myself to.

I work out for me. This is mine. I do work because I take pride in being prepared and my school work. I can go grocery shop because I have made a commitment to try to make more of my food, instead of buying it already made (although I’m going to eat fish tonight, which I cannot make at all, so will buy. Baby steps!). These are all mine.

Whatever reasons I had to get here, my choices are my own. It was a moment of ownership. Being forced to confront my motivation for here, all the past months I may have been a bit resentful, everything. It was my chance to decide what to do, what I should, just alone.

I’m not saying I won’t feel, at times, tidbits of remorse or resentment, but I am saying, this is a mini crest of the hill.

In the future the schedules will be different, I’ll make new, my own, friends here, I’ll have other commitments, and they are mine. They exist within me as uniquely my own.

I just want to preface this, I love books. So I fully anticipate posts upon posts about books and my interaction with them. You were warned (but not in a mean way, a totally nice way).

I love love books. There’s nothing that replaces the feel of one in my hand. I think about this as I’ve just completed my second book order this week. To my defense, the first was all (except one) school books I needed AND the second one had the remaining books (less than half) I needed. But there’s something that doesn’t feel like home until I’m settled in.

For people that’s different. For some it’s when they’ve unpacked, when they have a shelf, etc. I did feel more at home when I had a shelf, when I had unpacked, but nothing beats how I feel to open the cabinet and look at the books, both mandatory, for fun, and used. It’s comforting. Like friends sitting on a shelf, out of sight of everyone, my personal secret. They wait for me and they all have a story. Obviously they have their story, but they have our story. We, me and each book, have a story together, our first reading, when I found it, it’s trials, it’s tribulations, it’s travels.

Maybe what I love is that, to me, they’re little parts of myself. They reflect the time and love and me that I’ve poured into them with each read, each trip, and each page turn. They all call me, beckon me, and say ‘Remember when!’.

I’ve picked up each of those books one person, and put them down another. Each of them represents a journey of mine, a transition, a change.

I have so many books I want to read!

Let’s just ignore, for a second my over 12 page (last updated about a year ago) book list including everything from utopian fiction to the classics. Let’s also ignore the tens of pictures of books on my phone I want to read, or my goodreads book list.

But even besides those things. Just this semester, I want to read so much. I have the Bones books I want to finish, as well as the required reading I have, as well as the opportunity to join two book clubs. One that meets every other week, which, realistically, will be near to impossible, and another that meets every month. So I fall asleep chanting books, books, books.

But what do you expect when you’re an English major and you love reading?

This. For the rest of my life I guess.

And even though it can be a little confusing and overwhelming, I love it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t be who I was if I didn’t. It’s chaotic and a bit stressful, totally quirky, and eclectic. I like it. And I think that’s just who I am.

I enjoy making lists. I make them all the time and everywhere. I have this irrational desire to post them everywhere, near my bathroom sink, near the mirror, on the book case, on the back of train tickets, in my notebooks.

To me, lists satisfy this urge to write things down, to organize my thoughts, put them in a list, and cross them off. It gives me a profound sense of accomplishment to cross something off my list. I feel so much more organized. Things fly from my head and lists are a quick way to remember all the things I want to do. But I also get this sense of pride when I finish a list and can throw it out. It just epitomizes accomplishment to me.

Is this the same for you?

I have realized a lot of things this summer. I have realized that people watch as others do bad things and they never say something. I have seen people be apathetic, watch the world crumble around them and stay removed.

I have learned a lot. I have suffered a couple things that have made me think about my mentality and see that it will probably change.

I have seen people become the bystander, seen things happen and say nothing. Know that their actions are wrong and never say anything. Whether that be someone manipulating others and their friends never saying anything or whether it be those who cheat on their friends. It’s this idea that people don’t feel compelled to act or speak up.

I have seen that some things that you care about are left to chance, no matter how much you try to be prepared. I have seen that life can be unfair, no matter what.

But is this a good thing? Should I just accept these things and move on? I don’t think so. I don’t think, more importantly, I can.

Things should be made more fairer. People should be held accountable. Just because this is the way it is doesn’t mean it should be. We should all speak up to help those around us. We shouldn’t let silence make us culpable. As one of the Green brothers said (in my loose paraphrase) we shouldn’t look away. I have experienced these new things, but I want to remain myself. I don’t want to live jaded, but I want to try to make things better.

I want to surround myself with people who will speak up. I want to be better about speaking up. I want to work towards a system that will be more fair. I want to try to give people fair chances. I don’t believe that this is the way life is and should be. If I can, I will do my best to do my part.

1) There is a different attitude towards education

2) Queuing is different, as in there’s not usually one

3) Things are smaller, like refrigerators

I have gotten into a pattern where I do more housework than I ever did before. Whether it be folding and doing the laundry, putting the dishes in the dishwasher, washing the pots, wiping down the table.

I get particularly upset when I have many things to do or want to sleep, but have to (or feel I have to) tidy first. I don’t like going to sleep with a dirty kitchen. I like starting my day fresh. I also am one of those people who feels their surroundings reflect their state of mind. I can’t properly concentrate when there’s mess.

And what this experience has taught me to do is to appreciate what my mother did for me. She did all the housework alone (with some small additions sometimes, really rarely sometimes). And I feel that now. I emphasize with feeling that you can’t do what you want to do, need to do, until it’s clean. I get the feeling of being overwhelmed, like there’s so many things to do and it’s like a smothering burden. As if I can’t continue my day until it’s done. There isn’t always a thank you for everything. It’s a tireless relentless duty and job that doesn’t result in a tangible pay or thanks.

So, thank you mom. Thank you for all the days you did the dishes, did my laundry, folded my clothes, vacuumed the house (that’s my least favorite chore). Thank you for shouldering that burden, for not murdering me that I did nothing. Thank you for being there, for doing all those things, and still being the best mother I could ever have. For doing those things and still remaining supportive and loving, kind, and tender.

Clearly I can thank my dad as well for giving me the opportunities I have now, for supporting me through everything, for giving me the chance to follow my dreams and make mistakes Both of them.

Thank you for laughing at my silly faces, for letting me make me own dumb choices, for making me feel you support me no matter what, for establishing such a solid foundation of love in my life, and giving me the confidence and groundwork that has been essential to all my thoughts and actions. And for obviously coming to get me from China.

My parents have been the best I could ever imagine or dream of. This started off as my mini rant, but I want it to end with just a general note of thankfulness.

 

Yesterday I finished the first week of Uni here for my Masters. It was a bit of a cheat, since I didn’t have my class today and the one last night, but that wasn’t my fault! And I am going to abide by my technically done with my first week.

I can breathe a mini sigh of relief.

I have been pleasantly surprised by the courses and professors. My passion for school and learning has been sufficiently reinvigorated.

My work load has also increased hundredfold, but still. It’s good to have assignment again. Maybe I’m strange like that, but I almost feel like it’s just natural for me. Maybe I was born to be a student, a learner.

I have about two books to read every week, as well as three-four critical texts per week, and maybe half a play each week as well. Not counting the papers and assignments and projects as well. Oh and two more novels to read over the course of the semester. As well as my desire to be involved in at least one bookclub (the current potential is two).

Work, having work, feels good though.

I feel like looking in the mirror and saying, ‘Hello, it’s been a long time hasn’t it? Nice to see you again’.

I was thinking about something recently. Moving here has been such a shock and totally overwhelming. I felt really guilty about not diving into German and what not when I got here. I’ve felt really defensive about not starting yet.

I’ve been waiting until it felt right, till I got a rhythm, some sense of peace and normalcy. And that is it.

I didn’t dive into German, because I dived headfirst into Germany. It was a crazy process and it has taken me a lot of time to try to adapt. I’m not fully there, maybe I won’t ever be, but it’s given me a sense of alrightness. There’s only so much one can do. I try to focus on the future and more forward. But there’s only so much to adapt to at once. And it’s a process that you can’t really rush.

I went to a club on Thursday night, since Friday was a holiday so it was a time that many people had time. It was a really fun experience we danced for over two hours and just in our group of friends. It was nice to do that and it didn’t matter if we looked silly. We got there early enough that no one else was there and we could establish a spot on the dance floor for the whole time we were there.

But on the way home we had to wait about fifteen minutes for the train home, due to the fact it was late at night. There were two men who plopped themselves down next to us on the bench waiting and they began to talk to me.

They started off by just saying hello to me in Chinese, over and over again. I chose not to respond to them, to which my partner had to step in and speak for me. Long story short there was just a bunch of exchanges about how I don’t speak Chinese, yes I do speak English, etc. I was really glad he was there because when I’m alone I never know how to deal with this.

I am always concerned that if I don’t respond in some way, even noncommitally, that the people, usually men, will get more aggressive. Especially when they are drunk, which they were last night. I don’t really have any great tactics, but I am really apprehensive of someone doing that. I don’t want to seem like I do want to talk, so I usually just say something noncommitally or just nod my head.