Bubbles

Ya know how "they" say that you can create your porn name with the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on?  Well my porn name would be Bubbles Myrtle.  That sorta elicits images of Naomi and Thelma Harper combined.  Not sure that works for me. 

In other news, I feel like I just learned so many important life lessons while sitting and watching the world’s most resilient bubble floating through my kitchen and into my living room.  Through door handles, into and back out of cabinets, up to the ceiling, around lights, it continued to float and reflect the light around it.  I just learned that no matter what gets in your way, you can go around it.  Even when you float into the shadows and nobody can see you, you’re still there.  Even when you think that you’re hidden from view and nobody is looking for you, someone still is.  When you have just the right light shining on you, you look more powerful than a fairy.  Even when half of your bubble has faded, it’s still possible to enjoy an enduring life.  The simple power to be able to float around life has got to be one of the most amazing gifts ever.  The rainbow colors of a bubble are probably the most beautiful colors one can wear.  When you get close enough to someone that you realize can hurt you, it’s okay to turn right around and head back to safety. 

I watched this bubble for at least 13 minutes, and that’s just from the time I thought to look at the clock.  It was still a while before then that I’d been watching.  When that little bubble actually went inside the door handle of my cabinets instead of floating around it, then it went into the cabinet and floated about for a moment before coming out, I realized it was an interesting bubble that deserved my attention.  I’m glad I gave it. 

As we headed into the living room, I thought about how long it had been since I just stopped and observed without any other motives.  I might meditate every day, I might be acutely aware of my surroundings to the point where I can tell you exactly what birds I heard during my run and where, but how often do I truly just stop and be?  Not often, for sure.  I got to do that for 13 minutes today.  It was lovely.  It reminded me of those times in Afghanistan when I would go out onto the back porch and blow bubbles after particularly annoying or frustrating days.  It’s tough to be angry or frustrated while watching bubbles.  They just float so beautifully.  So carelessly.  So gracefully.  And they look so perfectly round.  The way they reflect the world around them, but in rainbow colors, just captivates me.   

I’m going to buy bubbles and start making that a part of my self-care after work, after rough counseling shifts, or whenever my mood gets a little grumpy.  How can life be complicated, upsetting, or troublesome when there are bubbles to watch? 

Walk a Mile in their Shoes: Immigrants & Refugees Episode

You are a 5th grade student.  You were born in the United States.  Your parents were not.  New laws are enacted that will cause your parents to be deported.  But not you.  How does that make you feel?

You fall in love with a person from another country.  He or she comes here legally.  You enjoy the life you had planned.  But suddenly a huge push for "English Only" occupants is brewing.  How does that make you feel?  What if he or she gets deported?  Even without the threat of deportation, just knowing that the majority is against your love, making him or her feel awful.  Alone.  Unwelcome.  Who wants that?

You live in a country where your lives are in daily threat.  You take your children and come to the US.  You do so legally.  But you have three children and you cannot get a job that pays enough to keep them fed and housed.  In fact, you cannot get enough jobs that cover basic expenses.  Yet even though you came here legally, and even though you have legal jobs, you cannot apply for government subsidization for at least 5 years... if not more.  How do you plan to get through these years?

Immigrants.  They come from everywhere.  They look like us or they look different.  They talk different.  They may have different mores and customs.  Yet there's a funny thing about them-- they are still people.  And they came here in hopes of improving their situation.  The land of the free, the home of the brave.  The place for your poor, hungry, and, well, you know:
"From her beacon-hand glows the world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command the air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame" (Lazarus, n.d.).  And of course, the great one: "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.  Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" (Lazarus, n.d.).  Does that not sound inviting?  I mean really inviting?  Like, to all?  So what went wrong?

I am trying to learn to do handstands.  I'm still in the phase where I need the wall, so I use my hallway since there is a free & clear space.  While I'm chilling upside down, I look at my bookshelves and admire all of those yummy books I want to read.  There was one that kept calling me; "What is the What."  I first heard about it years ago with my old book club.  We never read it together but it was definitely discussed and I went ahead and purchased it.  I finally (FINALLY!!!) got around to reading it (oh, only around 7 or 8 years later...) and though it took me a while to get through, I was blown away at how much emotion that stirred in me.  Refugees.  It's like people think they want to run from their land and to leave everything behind.  It's like we expect them to just be able to "fix" their situations and deal with it on their own.  This is sheer terror that causes so many of them to flee.  Not terror as in riding a freaky roller coaster, terror as in seeing their families and friends burned, tortured, beaten, shot, beheaded, etc. right next to them.  I'd run too!  Refugee.  What does that even mean, exactly?  According to Oxford Dictionaries, it's "a person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster" (Refugee, n.d.).  Forced to leave.  Do they have a few months to get their affairs in order before taking off, or time to say goodbye to loved ones, a forwarding address to give them in hopes of reconnecting in a few months?  No, not usually.  They run in the middle of the night.  The kids, if they are lucky, can take a comforting stuffed animal or blanket.  Others aren't even "lucky" enough to be able to take a change of clothes.  Or food.  Or pictures like those that so many of us hold dear.  Imagine just suddenly having to get up, right now, running out your door, and never coming back.  Imagine losing everything that you have ever worked to acquire without any hope of seeing it again.  I can't do it.  I honestly cannot imagine what it must be like. I've read books about it, seen the news clips, read articles on the 'net and in the paper, but I cannot wrap my head around getting up, running away from here for fear of my life, and never coming back. 

I got to go on a field trip the other day to the Japanese American Museum.  With all of the talk about the concentration camps that the Nazis were running, it seems like the "camps" here in the US are often overlooked.  The Japanese, whether US citizens or not, were rounded up and sent to these camps for their safety.  "Their" safety.  At least that's what they were told.  What were they being kept safe from?  The docent of my little group the other day was born in one of these camps.  She had first-hand knowledge of the living conditions, the weirdness of it all, and the sacrifices that were made during that time.  She explained what her family experienced, what she saw first-hand, and gave these stories a very personal feel.  Personal because she is a real person.  What are we learning from history?  Anything at all, or are we trying to do the same things over and over again in hopes that the results will be different?  I don't get it.  Read "What is the What" if you want to experience life in a whole new way.  After you're done, let's try to come up with the answers. 


References
Lazarus, E. (n.d.). The new colossus.  Retrieved from http://www.libertystatepark.com/emma.htm
Refugee [Def. 1]. (n.d.). Oxford Learner's Dictionaries, retrieved December 03, 2016 from http://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/english/refugee

Items 1 and 2

My big plan was to have a list of almost 40 items that I'd work on this year.  I can't come up with that many.  I got close, and I guess if I specify all of the books I want to read, that'll send it over the top, but I'm putting "read a bunch of books" into one slot.  It's been almost 2 months since I set out to be doing these specific things and I'm happy to report that I've been making some progress. 
My first project was working on learning to knit.  It's not spectacular but I'm starting to get it.  My grandma left a LOT of yarn and knitting/crocheting tools at her old house when she moved and I was able to get quite a bit of it.  I'm going to have a blast using her things, whether it's just for learning or (eventually...) for actually making legit, useable projects.  I have a feeling that it's going to be a long road to a legit project, but I'm having fun in the process. 

Beginning stages above, current stages below. 

I'm playing around with it, not aiming for perfection.  I'd say that's not too terribly bad for someone who has never done this before! 

I can't exactly call this goal completed because there's much more to learn but I'm still going to count it as #1. 

Second on the list is a book.  Mom & Me & Mom, by Maya Angelou.  That woman has such a beautiful style of writing that really works for my brain.  Not that she's writing for my brain, but the way my brain works and her writing style are a perfect combo.  So this was recommended in a list of "books to read before turning 40" type of list.  I chose around 20 or so... maybe it was closer to 30, I'm not sure, but it just so happened that I was subbing in one of my favorite places the other day and the kiddos had been reading an excerpt from this so I decided it would be my first to get to from that list.  A talking point with the kids I suppose.  Hmm.  What to say about this book.  Insightful, interesting, quick, liked it for sure, not positive that it would need to be a MUST read for me.  I am glad that I did, but I don't feel like it's changed my life or that it has any impact on my upcoming last year of 30s.  But it was really good and really readable and a great exploration of those... hmm, complicated mother-daughter relationships.  Only I can safely say that Ms. Angelou's version of that relationship is hugely different from mine.  Or anybody I know, for that matter. 

Next up will be some more books, more crafting of sorts, and likely some of grammy's recipes.  I'm hoping to do at least 10 of her spectacular items but I can only think of around 7 that I really want to try to recreate.  Lemon bars, chocolate cake with this amazing white icing, sticky buns (shoosh, you...), chicken & dumplin's, potato chip cookies, wine jelly, and a couple more.  At least.  Oh, and I'm thinking that I really need to go ahead and make her version of lemonade, even though there are about three pounds of sugar per glass.  It was well worth it! 

I'll be back soon with the next round. 

Like sands through the hourglass

Many things have changed in my life over these past few years since I've written here.  Very many things.  I've thought about restarting the blog a time or two, always had plenty of thoughts to write about, but never got much farther than writing a draft, getting distracted, and never posting anything.  Even with those drafts, I kept thinking that the blog title, Living the Other Side of the World, still fit.  If I wasn't in Afg, then I was trying to work on a relationship where we were on opposite sides of the world.  That relationship is no longer, but what about the side that I'm trying to live now?  It's so vastly different from what I thought it would be in my younger years that it still is the "other side of the world" in a way.  Truthfully, I can't even really define how it's different, I only know that it is.  This is now how I pictured my life when I was 10.  I'm not even sure if I comprehended this point when I was 10.  So many children I know have a clear direction of where they want their lives to end up.  Not to say that direction will always pan out, and even having direction might be a downfall for those kiddos who can't handle a change of plans well, but they have an idea.  I didn't.  I still don't.  Oh, I have ideas.  Visions.  Plans.  But how?  When?

Sounds like an invite to do some exploration.

My grandma died a few weeks ago.  It feels like only a couple of days.  It was really quick and sudden and unexpected.  Sure, she was almost 93.  Some consider that to be officially old.  All I know is that one day she and I were still discussing where we'd be celebrating our birthday dinner and the next day she was gone.  The moment I heard that she died, I decided that I didn't want to celebrate my birthday this year.  It wasn't right without her.  For the past month or so I've been thinking about the fact that this is my last year of my 30s.  I wanted to have a list of some things that I really wanted to get done before I hit 40.  I'll admit, there is not one single thing on this list that I can't do in my 40s, but the point is to be more aware of the passing (ridiculously quick passing, mind you) of time and the fact that our days are numbered.  I've always been painfully aware of how fleeting life is and I really want to ensure that I'm able to get all out of it that I can while I can.  I decided that I wanted to have 39 or 40 items on this list and that I want to aim to dedicate them to my grandma's memory and her beautiful life. 

Oh my gosh she is so adorable.  And thank you, Munch, for capturing her so perfectly in this pic. 

Anyway, as I was starting to draw up this list, I decided two more things.  I would blog about them and document every step of the process, and I would throw one dang cool party for myself and for my friends and family when I turn 40.  Life is going by too quickly, but that doesn't mean that we can't take advantage of every little moment.  I try to do that.  Now I want to have some bigger, more intentional moments. 

Some of these items on the list are very grandma-specific, such as learning to knit or crochet and tackling some of her recipes. Others are things that I've been putting off for years like taking surf lessons and white-water rafting.   There are a few that are age-specific.  I need to get a retirement account going that is not dependent on a place of employment.  Why have I not done that?  I guess I can be thankful that I have contributed something to my future, but how about getting it together all by myself, huh?  I also want to read some of those "These books will change your life" books.  A few of the items are just things that have been chilling on my life list for a while and I'm using this as a reason to get crackin' on that list.  As I mentioned before, these can still be done in my 40s, as one of my dear friends pointed out to me yesterday, but if I keep saying that I'll do them next year then I'll never do them! 

While drawing up my little list, I consulted a few websites with suggestions of things to do before turning 40.  I was thrilled to see that I have already done many of their recommendations.  I can safely say that I feel like I have had a rich and fulfilling life.  I've done skydiving, travelled abroad, learned about different cultures, spoken in front of audiences, gone to a religious service for something outside of my religion, and generally stepped outside of my comfort zone in many ways.  I am so grateful for all of my opportunities and experiences.  Now it's just a matter of being aware of these years as they pass and not letting any desires go unanswered. 

My list is at 19 right now.  Any suggestions for a few more important activities? 

Beauty

How is it that we can love, adore, and embrace another person’s imperfections so easily yet despise our own?  Or not even let someone else adore our imperfections the way they want to?  I was watching my favorite news today and there was a young lady on with such a unique face.  I couldn’t get over how adorably cute she was, not in spite of a slightly funny face, but because of it.  Another one of the ladies who clearly couldn't dance well was trying and it melted me so much and gave me such a greater appreciation and admiration for her.  Yet I really have a hard time embracing the fact that I can’t dance to save my soul… and I sure as hell don’t want someone else to love that fact about me!  What is it that society has put in our heads that causes this? 

Imagine my surprise when I found out that one of my absolute favorite parts of my boyfriend’s face is something that he views as a flaw.  I was completely shocked.  Shocked as in my mind kept saying “NO!!!”  Shocked.  His mouth is just so beautiful to me, how can that be something that he does not see? 

People are just cute to me in all of their uniquenesses.  Uniquities?  Differences.  So why, then, do we strive to all be so similar?  I don’t get it.

People who don’t smile because they don’t like their teeth. 

People who won’t sing aloud because they can’t sing well.

People who won’t dance because they can’t dance well.

People who are afraid to speak up because they worry their ideas will be shot down. 

How can we appreciate these things so much in each other yet despise them in ourselves? 

What even defines a flaw?  When I was younger, I was so disappointed that I didn't have the "Workman dimple".  It’s such a trademark of our family.  My cousin who is my age has the most breath-taking dimple.  She is just a beauty all the way around.  But I hated the fact that I didn't have that dimple.  To make me feel better, my mom pointed out that dimples were once viewed as a flaw.  It didn't make me feel better.  I just couldn't wrap my mind around that.  It was a “flaw” that I wanted.  I have it now.  When I saw a picture of myself and realized that I looked like the rest of them, I almost cried I was so happy.  Go figure.

I’m a Ginger.  No doubt about that.  Pale, red hair, and freckles.  I have the profound triad of Gingerdom.  I've come to grips with it, but it took time.  But the thing about it is that I know each of these has been considered a flaw at different points in time and in different locations.  I was ridiculed regularly for all three aspects of my Gingerness.  I still am, though now it’s usually with more affection than an intent to hurt (conveniently coupled with thicker skin over the years, right?).  But there often was an intent to hurt!  What is that all about?  Are we just so hung up on making ourselves feel better about people that we need to put others down? 

Eh.  I don’t know.  Funny faces truly rock my world.  A scar.  A unibrow.  A random patch of grey hair on a noggin.  A scratchy voice.  Tone-deafness.  The inability to dance.  Kitties with 6 fingers on their paws.  These things make people (okay, and kitties) beautiful in my eyes.  They make us so… individual! 

Years ago, I was standing in line in a grocery store and I overheard a lady talking to a friend about how every single face of the celebs on the magazines looked the same.  The more I think about it analytically, the more I see that she was very right.  That’s why I cannot get enough of the actors that stand out.  It’s rare, but it’s beautiful. 

When I was in college, I spent a lot of time with Asian friends.  Of course that joke that they all looked the same came up more than a few times (oh they so don’t…) but I just about died laughing when they (often) said we all looked the same.  Honestly, it just was so funny to me, but in hindsight, they might have been completely right!   Is it that important to have the right hair color so as to fit in?  Is it that necessary to get braces so we have perfect teeth?  Are our parents doing this to prevent us from lifelong teasing or is it just to make themselves feel better?  Do children have to go through speech therapy to learn how to say the letter ‘R’ “properly” just so the child can be like everybody else?  Or is that to make mom & dad feel better?  How can we teach children to embrace what they are and what they have?  Why do we have to compare?  How can we learn not to be so self-conscious?  How do we keep children from being so self-conscious?  I think that is the large part of the beauty that is childhood.  A pure unawareness of what they are expected to be and the image to which they should conform.  They can grin proudly with crooked teeth.  They can run with such a lack of grace.  They can say a letter or a word funny.  They can dance as they see fit without caring how they look.  They can sing with all of the gusto their little bodies can manage and not care if they are “pitchy”.  They can air-guitar.  They can create a beautiful world that works for them and not give a flyin’ fig if anybody cares.  They so have it right.  I never thought to feel embarrassed about my lips until my friend told me they were too big.  Wow did that open my eyes!  I was in 3^rd grade, I think.  What, 8 years old, and already freaking out because my lips are too big?  Yeah, that’s healthy.  In 8^th grade, one of the adult escorts for a school outing said that he truly disliked red hair on females.  I was so crushed, but still kinda thankful that he opened my eyes to the fact that people have different tastes and preferences…  Is that what it all boils down to?  Just finding the right people who appreciate what you have?  That can’t be it.  Besides, how do you communicate that to a little 8 y/o girl who is crushed because someone made her realize that she doesn't sing well?  What right does anybody have to kill the hopes and dreams of a child?  Oh I must always remember to help the little ones truly be who they are.  We all should have the right to be who we are. 

And for those of you who are reading that have a funny walk or maybe can’t sing or don’t like you smile or hate a scar you have or wake up every morning thinking about what you think is an imperfection… I love you for it.  

Legacy

I've been thinking a lot about life and death these past few weeks for a number of reasons.  First and foremost is likely my aunt and all that she is going through.  It’s so not okay to have to watch this and not be able to do anything about it.  We can’t fix this problem and I know that all of us wish we could somehow.  The second reason I’ve been thinking about life & death is that for a few weeks, we were going through my grandparents’ old house and getting it ready to be sold.  My grandpa died a few years ago, while I was in Afg.  I hated not being able to be there to say goodbye, to be with him when he died, or to be at the funeral.  It was not ideal.  So about a year & a half ago, my grandma moved but she only took what she’d need or want to have at her new place.  Given the expanses of her old home and the confines of the new one, that wasn’t much.  Not comparatively speaking, at least.  So the family had the fun/duty of going through the remainders and getting what we’d want or taking the important stuff that shouldn’t be thrown away or given away.  I gravitated toward two things—cooking and kitchen stuff, and my grandma’s craft things.  I’ve been doing some sewing lately and have a lot of improvements to make and room to grow so it’s nice to have materials without having to spend money when I’m not sure how the items will turn out.  While going through her things, I kept wondering about what an invasion of privacy it might feel like to her.  Or to my grandpa, for that matter.  Then I started to wonder what people would think of me if they were going through my things if I died.  Boy.  That was… insightful!  I’ll tell you one thing for sure, they would see a person who loves crafts and has a lot of unfinished projects.  Similar to my grandma, I suppose.  They would also see someone who has a book obsession, for sure.  What would they think about my books?  My taste in movies?  What would they think if they went through my computer and saw my browsing history?  My goodness, the research I’ve done for my papers has had me reading extensively about eating disorders, child abuse, substance abuse…  would they think that was for my entertainment or realize that it’s for research?  What would they think if they saw my saved paperwork?  Probably that I’m a sentimental sap about a lot of things.  Would they laugh at my embarrassingly large collections of candles, panties, and perfumes?  Not that any of those have anything in common, but they’re some very extensive collections!  If someone had to go through my receipts would they think I was a drunk or someone who really enjoys a variety of wines?  Would they see my receipts from restaurants as laziness and not wanting to cook or would they realize that it was amazing time spent with lifelong friends that I wouldn't trade for anything?  What do we leave behind for others to know about us?  Do we leave a legacy that we are aware of or is it more often accidental?  Most of us don’t get a say as to when we leave this world.  We can’t sit here with our loved ones and explain the meaning to an unsent letter to a parent that was hanging out under our mattress.  We (wait, if either of my parents are reading this, I actually don’t have any unsent letters to either of you hanging out under my mattress… it was just an example.) don’t have a chance to point out that the little piece of beach glass we are saving is because it reminds us of our grandma or our trip to the beach with our honey who just happens to be seeing the Pacific ocean for the first time (that part is legit).  These little objects that mean so much to us mean nothing at all to people who don’t know the story.  I found a little bear in my grandma's crafts that was made out of those tiny little crafty pom-poms.  I don’t have a clue if this bear means anything to her at all, but I cannot bear (hahaha!) to get rid of it.  I’m sure I could ask her, but I’m not sure if she’d remember.  Oh memories.  How precious and fragile. 

What is our legacy?  What story can be created out of our belongings?  What do our physical representations of personal memories mean to anybody else?  What happens when we lose sight of those memories?  

Step away from the books

It is entirely possible that I just reached my dunf’r* state.  I started a new class today.  Really excited about what I’ll be learning, happy to have some projects other than papers to write, but a smidge overwhelmed at the amount of reading that will be required of me.  It’s a lot and it’s also going along with the other class I’m taking that also has a pretty sizeable read-load every week.  And my big projects are coming up soon.  The end of class stuff.  Papers, interviews, research, theorizing, all that good stuff.  Anyway, my dunf’r.  So I’m reading a sentence with a new word in it.  I’ve seen a few of those today.  Not too shabby for a fairly intelligent & well-educated gal, huh?  It’s been a good learning day.  So I’m trying to understand this word.  It’s fairly familiar, and I’m pretty sure that I can figure out the meaning of it, even though I wasn’t really concentrating on that part yet.  I was just trying to sound it out because I read that way in my head.  I don’t normally say the words as I’m reading unless I really need to concentrate on one part, but my brain still processes things by knowing what the word is as I’m reading.  This word just was not coming to me.  I was coming up with feel-o-SO-fizing, filo-so-FIZING, feel-o-sop-hizing?…  Oh crap.  Philosophizing.  I know that word.  It’s what happens when you’ve been reading too long and suddenly realize that you should put your book down, like, now. 

Time to give this tired brain a break.  I’ll be back soon with thoughts on my new class.  Culture.  Diversity.  Acceptance.  Difference & same & everything else that makes a lot of no sense.  Those aren’t the thoughts but that’s what they’ll be about.  This is going to be an interesting eight weeks! 

*Dunf’r is my version, a-hem, my tired and slightly countrified version of "done for".  It’s more like a dunfer but even that extra ‘e’ takes too much energy at this point.  Dunf’r.  

Moral Dilemmas

I don’t think I’ve ever spelled the word “dilemma” properly the first attempt ever in my life.  I’ll have to work on that. 

In other news, I had an interesting conversation with my cousin yesterday.  Before I go on, I must say that I adore the stuffins out of this woman.  She is one of my favorite family members and I just can’t get enough of her.  It really makes me sad, sometimes, how far we live apart from each other and how rarely we get to see each other.  For years we have been more like friends than “just” cousins.  And I have to say, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Seriously.  She’s just crazy gorgeous, inside and out.  She has a heart of gold.  Since we’re only three months apart, and we grew up just a few blocks away from each other, we have spent a lot of our lives together.  It was pretty special having her close by.  So these days when we get to see each other, we usually have months (at least!) of time to catch up on.  Yesterday was no different.  At one point, she asked me about school.  I told her something that I haven’t really talked much about yet.  Whether I would want to work in a Christian school or not.  I have thought about that, in great detail sometimes.  Part of me says there is no chance that I would want to.  Having been a student in them for most of my education, and being fairly close to some of the teachers who are open-minded about things, I have come to the conclusion that no matter my beliefs, my personality and attitude wouldn’t fly there very well.  And in the big picture, it’s apparent that one’s beliefs don’t ultimately matter.  It is all about the actions & attitude.  Now that said, my beliefs are pretty strong.  I think God is pretty ok and I think that it’s acceptable to believe that.  I am not a huge fan of the separation of church & state to the level it has become.  I don’t think that God should have been removed from public schools.  I don’t think that we should be prohibited from talking about religion with students, especially with those who are inquiring.  That has potential to be a big problem.  Not because I intend to break the rules—I don’t want to get sued, I want to keep my job, and I want to be able to help a s many children as I possibly can in my career.  The problem is that I will have a very huge internal conflict if a student inquires about religion and I have to deny him or her of information or of even talking about it.  Children are funny—if you tell them that it’s not okay to talk about something, they’re going to see it as a bad thing.  We have to be all hush-hush about these taboo topics because they’re not okay for normal people.  Is that what we should be teaching children about religion?  About God?  About expanding their knowledge? 

I have been ordering most of my books online, either renting them or getting used books.  With that setup come a lot of other students’ notes, comments, & highlighting.  One of my books is about ethics and counseling.  Law too.  Ethics & law of counseling.  Something like that.  I just don’t have it in me to look it up right now.  Though I’ll have to in order to properly cite what I’m about to say.  Eh.  So the author (Stone, 2009) (funny that I can remember that part of it, is it not?) cited an incident where two students approached a school counselor.  They were upset about something and the counselor prayed with them.  Guess who lost her job.  Yeah, the counselor.  So a previous user of this book wrote something in the sidelines of the page next to that along the lines of “Would I ever pray with a student?”  Based on other comments throughout the book, she was religious in some form or another.  She alluded to it in a few ways at different points, so I’m thinking that she was wondering the same thing I was with a similar mindset.  Would I ever pray with a student? 

If I worked in a Christian school, it would probably be assumed that I would pray with students.  I had plenty of teachers throughout my schooling career pray with me.  Some even talked with me like a real person.  I adored those teachers.  In fact, my BFF & I were just talking about some of them the other day.  The straight-shooters.  The ones who tell it like it is.  None of them work there anymore.  Not saying that any of them were fired, it is likely just that they decided to move on for their own reasons or because the school moved, but still.  That would be me.  I wouldn’t last.  But then children in an environment like that need someone who is open-minded and non-judgmental. 

One of my professors in college (I wish I could remember which one, but I can’t pick between two that it could have been) talked about a student approaching him because she wanted an abortion.  Had I been in her situation, both of the two I’m thinking of would be people I would approach.  They would not judge.  They might not be able to help, but they wouldn’t cause further harm.  See, that’s one of the moral principles that counselors are to abide by.  Do not do harm.  First do no harm.  Don’t make a bad situation worse.  If you can’t do anything to make it better, don’t make it worse.  It’s not just counselors who are held to that standard.  Ever hear that for doctors?  The Hippocratic Oath—“abstain from doing harm”?  So when a young girl who is just admitting that she’s a lesbian comes to me and admits this huge secret to me, am I to try to help her be comfortable with herself or throw a bible at her and tell her it’s wrong?  Public school versus Christian school.  And I’m not including all private schools into this category just because I’m only familiar with Christian schools.  I can’t even begin to guess what a Catholic school policy would be so I’m not going to. 

One of my classmates posted something about dealing with a student, female, whose grades had been slipping drastically.  It may be a hypothetical situation—the assignment said that if they were real cases to change names and protect identities, so who knows, but it is pretty darn common.  The counselor in this scenario talks to the student to find out what’s been going on.  Turns out, the girl is gay and her parents are not accepting this because of their religion.  My classmate later went on to talk about how difficult a situation that is when students need acceptance and don’t get it from the people who are most expected to provide it.  What is a counselor to do in a situation like that?  Make the student feel even worse?  “Yeah, kiddo, it’s against your religion.  You’re really screwed now, arencha?”  What would that student do in a Christian school?  My experiences with some of my gay friends have shown me that those schools aren’t too willing to accept these students with open arms.  Nope, you’re bad, go away.  What an example. 

I should stop now.  This might get into a self-debate far greater than I have time for right now.  I have two assignments that are due tonight and haven’t even started either.  Perhaps I should be doing that.  

Reference

Stone, C. (2009). School counseling principles: Ethics and law. Alexandria, VA: American School Counselor Association.

Judgment

I talked to my honey the other day about how tough it will sometimes be to support people (students/kids/coworkers/take your pick) who are engaged in behaviors that I disagree with or that are of a significantly different mindset than I am.  Not only support, but never to judge and always to be open to them.  He was really sweet about what I was saying—said that I really have picked the perfect job or career for my personality.  I don’t know for sure if he meant that as a compliment or not.  He is totally okay with being opposed to certain lifestyles and I am admitting that I will have to embrace even those that he’s opposed to.  I think he meant it as a compliment.  Maybe he just didn’t think about all of the implications of it.  It is going to be a major mental battle with me sometimes and he may not even know that he’s involved in it!  I guess he’s right though.  I don’t have much judgment in me.  I know that people are all different and I’m good with that.  It’s what makes life interesting. 

So along those lines, I was reading about “isms”.  Racism and sexism are probably two that immediately come to mind for a lot of people, but it is a much larger list than I ever thought of prior to this reading.  Lemme add to that list for you.  “Ableism, ageism, classism, familyism, genderism, heterosexism, immigrationism, linguicism, racism, religionism, and sexism” (ASCA, as cited in Stone, 2013).  Oh my goodness is that a lot that I’ve never even considered let alone identified.  My spellchecker is only recognizing five of those eleven.  Great sign, yes?  Linguicism.  What does that even mean?  I’ve been doing a lot of self-education about random subjects like pro-ana and thinspo, eating disorders not otherwise specified (even that has a trendy acronym--EDNOS), self-mutilation in all its many forms, and various other things plaguing today’s children at a heart-breaking rate.  I need to know this information so as not to be blind-sided by it when a student approaches me with his or her latest issue, but I sometimes wonder if any of us can actually catch all of these things with enough warning to be aware of them before they become a habit or lifestyle for a child.  Better to see the warning signs when these concerns are simple thoughts instead of full-blown habits.  If only it were that easy. 

I am so thankful that S believes in me the way he does.  I don’t know how I would do it when I see a reading assignment that could keep a normal person occupied for three months and I need to do it in a week if I wasn’t so sure of… well, of his confidence in me.  Mine falters a lot.  And ya know what?  That’s another thing that I really want to prevent.  I just read somewhere that counselors should avoid flattery but I think that is quite important when dealing with young kiddos.  They so need the adults in their lives to believe in them.  We need to prove to them that they can conquer anything they want to.  It’s heart-breaking how many people don’t do that. 

By the way, the author I listed in this, Carolyn Stone?  I want to meet her one day.  Not only is she the author or co-author of quite the handful of books and articles I’m reading, she also has cited herself in her own works.  I just think that’s cool.  How awesome would it be to be so awesome that you can cite yourself in your own works?  I admire her.  Not only that, she actually seems amazingly aware, intelligent, and is an excellent communicator.  I dig that.  And one of my goals will be to at least hear her speak, possibly to even meet her.  Who knows what’ll happen??? 

Stone, C. (2013). ASCA members weigh in on Ward vs. Wilbanks. Retrieved from http://www.ascaschoolcounselor.org/article_content.asp?article=1304

Past, current, future

Do you ever find yourself with an uncertain future?  I sure do.  Five months ago I thought everything made sense.  I had somewhat of a plan, nothing huge, but definitely easy to work with.  I was going to do another... oh, maybe 8 months, maybe a year with my honey in that wonderful setup in the desert. But things just fell apart so fast.  No, that's not true.  Nothing fell apart.  The plan just changed.  I like plans!  And S is always telling me that they're somewhat pointless.  We're both right.  He definitely has the edge on logic on this one-- no matter what you plan, things can easily change.  But I have the edge on hope and a path.  With a plan you know which way to work and where to set your sights.

Plans.  They're great in theory.

I've started a new plan.  Not terribly different.  I was already heading down this path while still in Afg, but it's altered a bit.  So I am going to keep this blog just as it is, with the same title as it has, and I'm going to add to it.  I still am living on the other side of the world.  I'm on the other side from S... for now.  And who knows-- with the charms of an uncertain future, I just may end up there with him.  Or he may end up here with me.  Or we may go somewhere completely different.  But there will always be an "other side of the world" and I'm going to always need to remember that.

And speaking of other sides.  Here's where things will take a slightly different turn.  I am currently going to write about school.  Really, that's about all I do these days.  School.  S asks what I'm going to do today and the answer always includes "homework".  Always.  As of yesterday I have now doubled up on the classes.  I enjoy it, for sure.  I had a mild moment of sheer panic the other night when I started to doubt myself but with enough positive self-talk I got over it.  I have my work cut out for me, for sure, but I am getting so much out of this, and I truly enjoy it.  The "other sides" part I mentioned is in perspectives.  Background.  Culture.  Ethnicity.  Different views.  Another world, entirely.  I will be learning so much over these next couple of years.  It's great.  I am finding my text books absolutely fascinating.  I can't get enough of them.  But it's a little bit scary.  In fact, I'm going to stop writing right now and get to some notes I made last month.  I meant to update before now but I'm not so good at that sometimes.  Obviously.  Sorry.  Sorta.

12/15/2012 10:59 PM

This is really quite an eye-opening experience.  I’m reading things like “Knowing when to invoke confidentiality at the expense of a parent’s right to know is a daily struggle” (Stone, 2009, p. 6) and reading about a counselor who tried to sue the school district for not renewing her contract after she tried to teach abstinence to the students and prayed with two of them.  What would I do if students came to me and actually wanted and requested to pray with me?  Will I be setting myself up for losing my job of I do so?  I pray.  I think it’s an acceptable thing to do.  And though I would not ever force my beliefs onto a student, I would love to think that I could share the actions of my beliefs with a student if he or she wanted it.  But that whole “separation of church & state” thing really screws us up.  My current text says that Americans really try to give parents the respect and legal latitude to figure out how to raise their children more so than any other country.  Oh my gosh how frightening that is! 

We had yet another school shooting this week in this “Great American Dream” of a country.  Thanks to my constant state of having my nose in a text book, I haven’t heard much about it other than it was Connecticut and there were 20 something children killed.  My poor S is now worrying about what I’m getting myself into as a school counselor.   I’ll be working in just such a setting.  I’m worrying more about legal ramifications to going to work every day!  Seriously, I’m reading that ethically we must always respect the client’s right to confidentiality unless he or she plans to do harm to self or others and in the next sentence that parents have all rights over their child’s life/decisions/actions/thoughts/etc., and that when the law comes into play, parents have the legal rights to know and law beats ethics.  So… About that. 

…

…

???

Ethically, and by counselor’s standards & goals, we are to help the children learn autonomy—how to think for themselves, how to stand up for themselves, how to be their own person.  Legally, these kiddos have no right to make even one single decision about their own lives.  I repeat, ???

Then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve had school work capture my interest so much.  I read because I find this interesting.  I can’t put my text books down because I keep wanting to learn more.  I guess I’m getting into a great line of work.  Not only does it interest me now, it’s also so new and so constantly evolving that I will always have something more to learn.  I used to tell people that if I could be anything I wanted in life I would be a permanent student.  It looks like I have found just the right career to allow that.  I’ll be going to school all the time and I will be always learning something new.  That’s just dang cool! 

And please, let me apologize in advance for my APA formatting in every new post.  I need practice!!!  :D  Never again do I ever want to have to spend anything near an hour or more searching for the proper documentation of something asinine like who to use as the publisher in a “production of” situation.  That was maddening!  By the time I obtain my Master’s of Education: Guidance and Counseling, I will understand the APA style of formatting from top to bottom, beginning to end, right to left, and past to future.  Just watch. 

References:

Stone, C. (2009). School counseling principles: Ethics and law. Alexandria, VA: American School Counselor Association.

08/15/2012 2245 All good things must come to an end

Well my dear friends and family, it appears as if this portion of my journey has come to an end.  I wish I would have been more on the ball with writing lately.  I have quite the entry about the drama that we’d been having lately.  In fact, let me add that now.  Let you guys get a little bit of background. 

07/24/2012 1330

I suppose that if I’m going to document my life & times over here, I may as well cover it all.  There has been a lot going on here that I haven’t talked about on here, not because I don’t want to, but mostly because I haven’t really sat down & dedicated any time to it.  A couple of months ago things started to get a little bit unsettled to put it mildly.  There was talk about the post office closing when the Marines pull out, even talk about the PX closing.  Then they were talking about closing this camp.  And about not hiring new people, while firing the current for different various reasons, in an attempt at “cleaning house”.  A lot of the guys here were getting very fearful about whether they would pass their physicals or not.  They started to fire people for their cholesterol which they did not do before.  They also started not giving people a chance to go home and get any medical issues taken care of.  No second chance.  If you don’t make it, you’re gone.  That doesn’t provide much comfort!  That was actually why I made that comment about trying to stay positive that S was going to pass his physical when we went on R&R.  If he didn’t, boy would things have been altered!  Of course he is also the poster boy for excellent health, but you just never know with this company! 

Just before we left on R&R, a lot of new guys showed up.  I had just gotten a new roomie, an adorable fire medic that I get along very, very well with.  Things were changing very rapidly.  We were a little bit nervous about how things would be when we got back, but there’s nothing to be done about it aside from either accepting it or quitting.  While we were gone, I heard from another of the medics who said it looked like they (the medics) were going to be losing their contract here.  How that makes sense I will never understand.  We’re on a military base in the middle of nowhere.  People get hurt.  Does that seem like a good reason to take away the ambulance services?  I wonder if someone somewhere thinks that if there is no ambulance then people won’t get hurt.  Logical.  Also while we were gone, 9 or so people finished their contracts and headed home.  I was so sad to have missed out on seeing them, but I’m happy for them that they get to get on with their lives.  Remember when I had to go a day earlier than I had planned?  That meant I didn’t get to say goodbye to the guys.  Aah, chaos, how I depend on you. 

So we got back from R&R.  The last time I wrote, I was still in Dubai and very angry about that situation but I finally made it back home after a lot more ridiculousness and very little sleep.  Little as in an average of close to 2 hours for about 5 nights in a row.  Uncool.  But I made it.  When we got back, a lot had changed.  I had to wait for a few hours near the travel office because I had my luggage scattered between a few different people’s bags and they had extra screenings to go through when we got back.  While there, I got a lot of updates from the chief that came by to get me.  My, my how things did change.  And would continue to do so.  A few more bases have been closing around here so we wound up with 7 new guys from that.  The medics did lose their contract so my roomie will be leaving at the end of this week.  Three new inspectors just arrived.  We almost got another dispatcher but the day he landed someone from a nearby base quit so he had to head there to fill that vacancy.  A few more people will be finishing their contracts soon and will not be renewing.  The post office is closing on the 15^th of August.  As far as we know, the PX will still be open, but we don’t know how long that will be.  The base is still going to stay open as far as we know and we should be still okay until at least the end of this year.  Now there are other bases opening and word that we’re going to be losing people to fill in some of those positions.  We’re supposed to be opening a second station here sometime soon even if we don’t have the equipment for it.  One chief got transferred to another FOB, another one demobed from home when he was on leave.  And that’s just some of it all!  Yes, kids, this has been a strange few months. 

Well.  In the midst of all of this comes the point where I’ve needed to think about my future.  It’s no secret that I am aiming to have my future spent with S but the particulars of all of that have been pretty… vague.  Not that we don’t have plans, but it’s just short of impossible to make normal plans given our work lives, our personal lives, and our nationalities.  It won’t be easy and it won’t happen overnight.  I think that until I was still in Dubai and he was here back at Dwyer, I thought we’d have at least another year to make plans.  Not so much the case.  We had a “light” talk about the future on Skype but decided we’d talk more when I got back. 

Well that was where I finished writing from the post that was to happen a few months ago.  Just wanted to give you an idea of what was going on around there.  And now?  Now I am sitting in KAF on my way home.  Five people at home know that I’ll be there.  Home.  Even that is a funny word, considering the fact that I don’t really have one.  For two years Dwyer has been my home.  My safe haven.  A source of sheer happiness.  Well I guess the past 17 months has been the safe haven and happiness.  But either way, it’s been so simple and perfect.  Easy routine, easy job, easy people to work with, easy life.  We had it so good.  Perhaps I should backtrack.  Lead up to now.  Actually, what I’m going to do is pause and post this before it gets way overboard and then I’ll continue writing tomorrow or the next day.  I’ll have plenty of time, I’m sure. 

07/01/2012 1413

Well, I'm on my way back "home" but I'm pretty angry right now so I'm wondering if I should even bother to write or if I'm just going to sound too bitter.  S and I had a wonderful time in Belgrade and our first 1.5 days in Dubai.  What happened then, you ask?  Well this company, with its infinite wisdom, decided to let him fly the day were supposed to and keep me here.  I do NOT like Dubai when I'm alone.  Not one little bit.  As in... there is nothing good about it.  I'd rather be working.  It's oppressive here, especially when you don't want to go out by yourself, which I do not.  Yes, I'm a big girl, but to me, this is the kind of place that is only good when you're with someone you love.  I don't have this overwhelming desire to take my camera out and spend the day on the streets.  I don't have a desire to even leave the hotel room.  And no matter how many times I wonder or ask God why this had to happen this way, I'm not getting an answer.  Seriously?  Well I find out in three hours if I fly tomorrow or not.  I honestly have a bad feeling about it.  I feel like I'm back in Kuwait almost two years ago dealing with the same crap.  I didn't like that either.  
Okay, I want to write more but my honey just called to let me know he made it home safely so I'm going to take a nap.  That'll help the hours pass...    

06/26/2012 1607

I don’t quite know exactly what just happened, but I went downstairs to pay my bill and wound up getting all teary-eyed with the ladies that work here.  I mean, really, with.  As in, they got a little teary-eyed too!  It started out innocently enough… all business, discussing my bill, I paid for the spa, restaurant, and bar things with cash and the rest of the stay with my credit card.  We discussed bills and vacations.  The two absolutely wonderful ladies I was talking to told me about their upcoming vacations.  One of them doesn’t speak English, she was the one I mentioned before that always gives me the deer in the headlights look.  But the other translated quite well for both of us.  So one is going on vacation in September, the other one just a little bit sooner.  Soon it turned into my desire to come back to this hotel.  I seriously can’t say enough good things about the kindness of the staff, the accommodations, the smiles, the way they made me actually feel like a treasured guest!  They were completely kind and respectful and professional the whole way through.  I wanted to make sure they billed me for all of the drinks I had, to include the waters with dinner.  Well there were a couple of glasses of wine that didn’t make it onto their bill but they decided those were on the house.  So were the glasses of champagne while using the pool & Jacuzzi.  Ya mean people can really treat other people this way?  And it’s acceptable???  Well.  I started to tell them how it was going to be rough to have to say goodbye to them all.  I swear, this has been by far the kindest hotel staff I have ever encountered.  So the lady who I was paying said that it always makes them happy to see guests leave with a smile.  I told her I’d be all smiles and she then told me that they all love my kindness and my smiles.  She said that they all talk about the guests (heh, truth moment, huh?) and that I’ve rated very high with all of them.  Awwwww!!!!  She said that my personality has made them all so very happy.  Oh. My. Gosh.  I have never heard such sweet comments coming out of someone who was so recently a total stranger.  From there, we have determined that when I come back, if it is winter we will go skiing together.  If it’s not winter, they are still going to be very happy to see me.  They’re going to be happy?  Huh.  And, S, my dear honey, they also wished you would have stayed longer.  Just for future reference… 

I also had another couple of interesting moments today.  One that just made me wonder where we Americans have gone so wrong.  I went to buy a few souvenirs at a local place  on the main strip.  I got some magnets, some shot glasses, and a little pencil holder of the Bridge of Love.  Look it up.  It’s cool.  Anyway, the insanely adorable gal that worked there, once again swore she spoke very little English but was a lot better than she gave herself credit for.  We chatted for a bit, she helped me find what I was looking for, I paid, then she ran over to find something that she wanted to give me, just from her.  Once again I will quote myself: “Awwwww!!!!!”   People here are so utterly kind! 

Oh, also, S, thank you so much for teaching me the importance of three cheek kisses.  I just scored major points with that darling lady downstairs because of that.  She said I was the first American she’s seen who knows that.  Seriously, you have prepared me well for this.  Thank you!  May I buy you lunch tomorrow to pay my gratitude?  ;-) 

So the other funny moment today.  I went to go buy a palačinke (and Mom, that’s what I was referring to yesterday) for my last lunch here and though they spoke some English, I was still trying to find the word I was looking for in Serbian.  So a lady also ordering lunch asked how she could help, in perfect English.  And she spoke in perfect Serbian.  No detectable accent on either side.  She’s from Chicago.  Born in Serbia but left at an early age.  Husband is also Serbian.  They are with  a pretty sizeable group of kids who are here doing some performances.  They belong to a cultural group with San Simeon church in south Chicago and they’re here as a group doing said performances.  I guess they had one last night at the hotel just across the way from me, and they have another tonight, but I had to decline the invite because I’m going to bed so early.  4am will come quickly & I need my beauty sleep.  So we had a great chat.  I told her I was wondering why so many English speakers were wandering around.  She said there was a pretty good chance they were all with their group.  She told me a little about the group and about herself and it was so refreshing to talk to someone so unexpectedly.  She was really a doll.  I stopped on my way out to thank her for the help and the chat and told her I will definitely be looking her up if I find myself in Chicago.  And as I walked away I had to laugh because my being here is truly proof of the simple fact that one never ever knows what will happen and when or why.  Who would have thought that my going to Afghanistan would land me in Serbia for vacations?  Life is really funny that way.  We might think we got it all figured out but we’re usually wrong.  Maybe we have more to learn.  Maybe we have things to unlearn.  Either way, it’s been so refreshing for me these past two weeks to see how my perspective gets to change all the time.  I have surely learned a different outlook in child rearing.  I’ve learned a different outlook on my smile.  I’ve learned that my American way isn’t always best.  I’ve learned that what is normal and comfortable to me might just be a major kick in the pants for someone who was not raised like me.  I’ve learned a lot, and for that, I am so grateful.  I love these opportunities I’ve been given, even when they are not completely comfortable.  Sometimes being in a country where you don’t speak the language well is intimidating.  But the overwhelming Serbian kindness and generosity has shown me that no matter what, I’ll be in good hands. 

06/25/2012 1052

Sorry this took a while.  For some reason, Blogger wouldn't let me upload directly so I had to put it on youtube first and that took a while, even with a great internet connection.  But here is a little piece of the awesome storm from the other day.  You can tell around 30 seconds in exactly how close it was.  And no matter what I tried, I couldn't even begin to capture the intensity of the actual sound of the thunder.  It was amazing!  

06/24/2012 1250

I am starving right now and have completely wasted, no, read my entire morning away, changed my mind about working out (it’s a weekend—the gym will be completely crowded), and am about to head out into town to find a ginormous platter of grilled meat.  But I just wanted to take a quick second to check in and update on yesterday.  I went and got a Serbian hair cut yesterday.  Not that it looks any different from any other hair cut, but it was done in Serbia and that is way cool to me.  For approximately $10, I had my hair washed, cut, and blow dried in a way that was infinitely better than my last cut in the states.  Seriously, that woman messed up my hair, but it’s all fixed now and I feel just as cute as can be.  I also went and bought some nail polish yesterday and a new sun block.  Krema za sunce.  My other one was too good.  That purchase was a fun experience all on its own.  I left the salon then decided to check out the nail polish then changed my mind (again) then rechanged it for the last time.  I went in just to look around and accidentally answered the woman in English when she asked if she could help.  I’ve really been trying not to, as much as possible.  She answered back in English.  She was under the impression that she doesn’t speak it well but she understands everything I’m saying.  I was under the impression that she speaks it better than most of the people I’ve encountered thus far.  I asked her how to say a few things in Serbian that I’d be wondering about.  We had a discussion about numbers.  She helped me find the nail polish I was hoping to find.  She pointed out that we say “Nivea” funny.  I think that would be the American accent…  After all was said & done, and she fought with the calculator along with the help of another woman who worked there, I was on my way and left pondering a few things.  Namely, what is it like to be a tourist in America?  I mean a total tourist.  Like one who speaks so little English that they can hardly manage most interactions or transactions?  Would they be ridiculed for not speaking the language, or would there be so many people willing to help them out with whatever they needed as there have been with me?  Would the guests in the hotel avoid eye-contact, or would they be all smiles, even while knowing that we didn’t speak the same language?  I seriously want to live like a true foreigner in Cali the next time I go back.  I want to walk in to a restaurant and tell them that I don’t speak much English and see what they do.  As it stands now, most of the time when I go somewhere, they speak some English, and if they don’t, they will quickly try to find someone that does.  A few times I’ve encountered people who only speak Serbian and will continue to talk to me in Serbian until I’m satisfied with the answer.  That cracks me up.  Partly because I do end up understanding them, and partly because they look at me like they don’t give a rip what language I speak—they’re just going to be friendly and talk to me.  I love that!  Nobody makes me feel awkward, regardless of what they speak.  This whole time here has been amusing with the staff in the hotel.  I’ll greet them with a “dobro jutro” and they respond back with “good morning.”  If I forget to speak Serbian and greet them in an English fashion, they’ll often respond back with Serbian.  It’s almost rare that we all have the same little formalities in the same language!  But it’s very cute.  They are trying really hard.  Even the one lady who doesn’t speak any English, and looks like a deer in headlights when she sees me approaching, has been trying to speak English with me as much as I’m trying to speak Serbian with her.  It’s fun.  Really fun, actually.  As I was leaving after my nail polish purchase yesterday (and, for the record, the colors are way cool!), the lady told me that her English will be better the next time I come back.  I assured her that my Serbian will be better as well.  I know I’ve learned a lot here.  Constant exposure can do that.  I’m starting to grasp some of the past tenses for verbs.  Those have been a little tricky for me, mainly because I haven’t covered them in my lessons yet.  The reactions of people when they hear I’m learning the language have been awesome.  Some look at me like I’m crazy, some sympathize and tell me how tough it is (these people speak English… isn’t that as bad and unregulated as it gets?), and some just look completely thrilled that I am making the effort.  I wanted to have an entire day where I speak no English at all, but I don’t know if I have that in me yet.  Though I am able to survive, for sure, I still don’t have enough of a grasp on it to have a normal conversation.  But the good news is I have nowhere to go from here but better.  Bolje.  I know enough random Serbian words to have totally Serblish conversation.  That much I know for sure. 

Okay, that’s enough cultural ponderings for right now.  I am really hungry and some grilled meso is calling me!