tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11000222885813122162024-03-14T07:16:44.715-05:00Simply Pondering.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-90868401271392037512014-03-02T09:11:00.003-06:002014-03-02T09:11:47.373-06:00The Gifts of Grief<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Grief can be defined as a keen mental suffering or distress, or a sharp sorrow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the past year, I've experienced more grief than I wanted to, more than I was prepared for (after all, who is usually <i>prepared</i> for grief?). I've had a lot of time to reflect (and sometimes agonize) over the last year, but through it all, I've pushed myself to learn through it, to grow through the pain. What I learned was that this grief has been a journey, one that began the moment my father was diagnosed with cancer. I like to call the things that I've learned the "Gifts of Grief".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During the past year, countless people have told me, "Man, your problems are so much bigger than mine. I shouldn't complain over [insert life issue here]." I never really knew what to say to these people. How can life events which cause pain that we don't have any control over be quantified? How can good events in life be quantified? The short answer: they can't. One of the gifts I learned through this was <b><i>empathy</i></b>. I wouldn't say I wasn't empathetic before this experience, but my ability to empathize grew. Just because life had thrown me curveballs that happened to really hurt didn't make my problems or issues any more or less than someone else's. And here's why: we all experience life through our own lens. The way we react to events is based on our experiences. So, for example, to say that 25-year-old Sarah's problems are bigger than 13-year-old Sarah's problems is a matter of perspective and experience. What was big to me in middle school is nothing to me now; it's all about perspective.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my dad was sick, there were countless days where the only thing on my mind was him. The thoughts would race uncontrollably, sometimes putting me in a sort of daze. Is he going to get better? What is he doing now? Is he in pain? How is he handling this? How is my stepmom doing? When can I see him again? Can I handle this? Some days I could only function at a basic level, feeling crushed by the weight of the situation. I'd wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to sleep. I found myself asking God why, why him, why our family, why now? I still haven't found answers to these questions, only knowing that life happens, and we often can't do a damned thing about it. It was in this that I learned <i style="font-weight: bold;">adaptability.</i> I didn't want to adapt to a life where my dad was sick, or worse, where he wasn't here. I still don't want to. But what choice do I have if I want to continue on and not be stuck in a constant "woe is me" state? I had to learn to continue with my life. Adapting meant giving up the control I wanted and allowing myself to live in the <i>here and now</i>, because it's all I had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps the greatest gift I was given is <i style="font-weight: bold;">perspective. </i>Life is full of choices, each and every day, of what we choose as important. With limited time and resources, we often have to sacrifice one thing for another. For me, this played out in one seemingly simple way: not sweating the small stuff. Yes, it sounds cliché, but hear me out. I am the type that always has a to-do list. They help me focus, help me organize my thoughts, my day and my life. As silly as this might sound, I've learned to deviate from the to-do list. This gives me more time to spend with the people I love and, sometimes, even means that laundry goes unfolded for days on end. In essence, my perspective has changed to reveal a less structured life, giving me more time and attention to focus on the things that really matter, things like snuggling with my husband and pup while we watch TV on a cold February night, having an impromptu dinner with my in-laws or being able to babysit my nephew at a moment's notice. It's these things in life that give me all the perspective I need.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've written here before about my dad teaching me to accelerate into the curves when he was coaching 15-year-old me to navigate back country roads. But what he didn't know when he taught me how to drive was that he was also teaching me a life lesson. When life twists and turns, slowing down or stopping can paralyze us in our tracks. Learning to accelerate into the curves keeps you moving, growing and, most importantly, <i><b>living.</b></i></span><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-6724899764146568452013-10-21T22:25:00.001-05:002013-10-21T22:25:50.193-05:00Slowing Down<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life is like a curvy, hilly, back country road. One minute it's up, one minute it's down and, just when you seem to have settled into a rhythm, all the sudden a curve comes out of nowhere. In the last year and a half or so, I've learned more than I've wanted to about how to cope with this road. Nonetheless, I'm still learning how to accelerate into the curves, as my Dad once taught me. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing I do know: without the support of my family and close friends, I would have pulled the E-Brake long ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With the change of the seasons comes a change in mood, a change in the way I look at life, just a little bit. It's as if an era has ended and a new one has begun. It leaves a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, one I know only time will ease. So many things remind me of my dad on a daily basis, but one thing stands out to me the most right now: the changing of the leaves. He loved this time of year and always insisted on coming to Missouri from Texas to get a small taste of the beautiful scenery, crisp air and a little time with his kiddos. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's in these daily reflections that I find myself thankful for what I have and wanting to soak up every moment. It may sound cliché, but it's truer now than it has ever been. It's also made me slow down. I find myself lingering a bit longer in moments special to me, like nightly walks with my husband and pup, making my nephew giggle or chatting with a dear friend over a cup of coffee. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pain is still raw but I take comfort in the small things that bring sweet memories flooding back. It's the memories that remind me that Dad would want us to live life looking forward, loving those precious to us, enjoying the great outdoors and remembering that this life is a gift. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-11567440198289981942012-05-01T19:58:00.002-05:002012-05-01T19:58:24.478-05:00Confessions of a 20-Something Woman Living on Her Own... For the First Time<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>First confession:</b> writing "woman" in the title was a conscience decision... "girl" seems to be more applicable to me, especially since I still see myself as the 18 year-old braced faced version of Sarah. "Woman" is a term I'm slowly coming to terms with.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Living alone has been a long time coming. Almost 2 years out of college, it's time. I had lived with two different friends for 2 years, in different apartments, moving on from both because they were ditching me to get married. So I guess 3rd time is a charm, right? ;-)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've only lived in my new apartment by myself for about a month, but I already love it. It doesn't really come as a surprise to me though, because I've always known myself to be okay with being alone. Often I've wondered if something is wrong with me because I prefer many times to be alone than with people. I'm the person who typically prefers 2 or 3 close friends for dinner rather than 10 for a party. Quality, not quantity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">However, I've found living alone to be one of the best experiences of my adult life thus far.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #2:</b> Sometimes (ehem, tonight), I eat ice cream... out of the carton. Less dishes!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #3:</b> I dance in my kitchen a lot. Like, full-on, shake yer booty, <i>dance.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #4:</b> The first time I truly realized I lived alone, and could consequently do whatever I wanted to do, was when I left a sweatshirt out on the couch. Getting ready to go to bed, my internal dialogue was "I need to take that to my room and put it away." Suddenly, I stopped myself, and said (aloud, mind you) "This is <i>my </i>apartment. I'm leaving it there." Rebellious? Probably not. Gratifying? You betcha!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #5: </b>I hate dusting. Actually, it's more like <i>loathe.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #6: </b>I'm terrible at decorating...but I don't really care. I had to have a friend help me organize my furniture to make it look suitable (aka, big furniture, little living room). Currently, there are 3 things hanging on my wall: a key holder so I don't lose my keys, my dry-erase calendar to keep me organized and a collage of my time in Granada, Spain, to help me remember where I've been. I figure I'll have someone else help me when it comes time to <i>actually</i> decorate a house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #7: </b>Walking around in one's underwear is as freeing as they make it out to be. Whoever "they" are.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #8: </b>There have been <i>plenty </i>of nights I have lied in bed, covers up to my neck, heart beating fast, sweat dripping down my temples, sure the boogy man was about to get me. Usually, it's just my loud neighbor above me, who likes to stomp around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #9: </b>TV is not an essential to me. I am perfectly content watching "New Girl" and "Glee" a week late. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Confession #10: </b>While I love living alone, I admit, I do miss people sometimes. That's why I'm lucky I have friends whose apartment I can walk to, and who love me enough to let me hang out whenever I need people time. I'm sure I'll enjoy this time alone, but I'm also grateful it's only for a season.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the end, I'm really just damn proud of myself for being a big girl. (See..there it is again: "girl".) Being able to support myself was my #1 goal right out of college. I know I'm blessed to have reached that goal so quickly, and I'm really thankful for this time in my life, especially since I know it's only for a little while. In the meantime, I'll be dancing in my kitchen, only to realize I'm not alone when I get a weird glance from a neighbor walking by outside. What, you don't dance like a manic in your kitchen too?! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-23161700000385625092012-02-26T11:19:00.002-06:002012-02-26T11:19:31.536-06:00Everyday Happy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day while milling around the Plaza with my boyfriend's family, we wandered into a little boutique. It had all sorts of cute clothes and jewelry, but the one thing that struck me was the wall art (or words?) which couldn't be missed. What did it read?</span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Happiness is not a destination. It's a way of life."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While this line isn't something that I haven't heard before or a concept with which I'm unfamiliar, I've never heard it put quite so simply. So often we have a tendency to see the greener grass on the other side, wondering if those other things would make us happier. I, too, am guilty of this. In all my planning and hoping and wishing for the future, I tend to lose sight of those things around me that make me happy on a daily basis, and all those things for which I am thankful: sunrises, the warm sun on my face, puppy kisses (thanks to a friend letting me dog sit!), Skyping with my brother, baking for other people, snuggling, making new friends at work, getting complimented on a job well done, laughing about nothing, crying at a sappy movie, reconnecting with old friends, to name just a few.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This quote, or thought, that happiness isn't somewhere we arrive, but the moments that make up every day life really got to me. I'm in a time of transition in my life in many different ways (or maybe I'm learning that life, especially after college, is ever-changing), and sometimes it can be very daunting and unsettling. I find myself thinking "When I live there" or "When I get this job" or "When I get that degree" then that is when I'll be happy.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But why can't I be happy right now?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a society where we're always looking for the next best thing, I am choosing to be happy, right here, right now. I have a job, an apartment, a family and boyfriend and friends who love me and take care of me and are always there for me when I need them, and when I don't know that I need them. I am choosing to look at the little things that make up the days and be thankful. That's not to say sometimes I don't wish I were out traveling the world or living in a different state (ehem, Colorado), but I can't live my life focusing on the "greener" side. I have what I've been given, the cards have been dealt, and, while they're not yet all played, I must play the hand I've been given to the best of my ability. And sometimes, that means simply choosing to be happy, right where you are, and enjoying the ride. Because really when you look at it, it's the little, everyday things, and not the destination, that lead to the big, everyday kind of happy.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-68709962190693106022012-01-26T21:01:00.001-06:002012-01-26T21:01:31.343-06:00Buena Gente<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been working at my job at Ford for nearly a year. In fact, I think it'll be a year in just a few short days...which also means the anniversary of the snowacolypse in Kansas City (God help us all!). I remember this time a year ago: I was so excited for something new, challenging and exciting, somewhere I could better excel, grow myself and really use my skills and, better yet, my degree. The world was my oyster.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A year a later, I've learned a lot. I remember feeling so lost, uncomfortable, nervous and really insecure at times as I entered the manufacturing world. I went to college about 15 minutes from the plant for 4 years, yet I can honestly say I never knew it existed. I'm not really sure whether that shows how much of a bubble I lived in at school or if Kansas City just isn't a big Ford city, but that's besides the point.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my year of learning, one of my favorite things to learn has been about all the different people who work at the plant. These people are so hard working, it can put anyone to shame. They work crazy long hours, run on little sleep and wear bright yellow reflective vests as their fashion statement. But despite their matching attire, I've had the privilege to learn about the individuality of many individuals at the plant.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've met people who have culinary degrees, run rodeos on their farm, drive an hour <i>one way</i> to work because they love their job, run marathons for the thrill of it (and get up at 4am to train), speak Spanish even though they're from Malaysia, have worked and traveled all over the world and even ones who have grown up in Kansas City and been here all their lives. Many, upon having a real conversation with them, are absolutely <i>brilliant.</i> It just amazes me how much I can learn from them. They are really, really interesting people, many of whom have become some very good friends of mine. They've enriched my life in so many ways, and I'm happy to call them my friends. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These people, they're <i>buena gente. </i>In Spanish, this means "good people." To me, it has a rather profound meaning, because you don't hear it often in the English language. In Spanish, it's used as a strong compliment, more than just "he's cool," or "she's neat," but it's meant to really get to the core of a person, who they are deep down. Or at least, that's how I interpret it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel fortunate to have met these people, to have been impacted by them in ways I'm sure I don't yet even know, to be challenged and stretched and grown by their influence in my life. I only hope that I could give as much back to them as they've given to me.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-14104915564410176602011-12-21T20:36:00.001-06:002011-12-21T20:36:09.133-06:00<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Pensar: To think (Pienso mucho... I think a lot)</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think so much. This week, I find myself, sitting at work, just thinking. About what, you ask? Name it, I've probably thought about it. Granted, I'm distracted by the fact that Christmas is in 4 days, and that means a week off of work (thank you, automotive industry). A week to... act like a college kid on break. Or something like that. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year signals a change. Actually, many changes. I thought I went through a lot of changes in college, but sheesh... this year has been a doosey. In February, I started a new job as a Communications Specialist working at the Ford Motor Company. It's been challenging, invigorating, rewarding and, at times, extremely frustrating. I never knew I could grow so much in a job, or that my skills and training would come in so handy (especially all that Pryor stuff from college which many of us thought was somewhat silly). I have grown so much, it's been incredible. Back in February, one of our bosses told us that if we wanted to stick around for more than a year, we had to make them not be able to live without us. On Monday when we officially found out we'd been renewed, one of our bosses said "you have shocked and amazed us" about our work and effort this year. WOW. I'm looking forward to growing and being challenged, making better friends with my awesome co-workers and communicating the crap out of that place!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another big change that's been on my mind as we inch closer to Christmas is the fact that I'm going to be celebrating Christmas on Christmas Day with my dad in Texas. This is quite monumental. I haven't been with him on the actual Christmas Day since I was a wee little one. My mom's side is going all different ways this year, and we won't all be together to open presents. It's... odd. It's the beginning of the kids growing up, moving away and, really, starting their own families. My step-brother, who is 6 months younger than me, becomes a father in a few short weeks. It's crazy how much and how quickly change happens.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe my Spanish word of the day should have been "cambiar" which means "to change."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2012, I don't really see the change slowing down, though I'm hoping I know what's coming at me a little more. But at the same time, I guess not knowing is half the fun... or frustration... or something. I think my New Year's resolution should be to learn to roll with the punches. I could probably stand to just let go and see what happens. </span></div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-39960133670885733402011-07-19T20:10:00.000-05:002011-07-19T20:10:01.033-05:00Sitting, Waiting, Wishing<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am a planner. For as long as I can remember, I've always been a planner. I plan everything from what I'm going to eat at work the next day, to what I'm going to do in 5 years, to what I'm doing this weekend. Except I don't have to plan my lunch for tomorrow because I'm getting a free one (SCORE!)! You may say "well, that's not a bad thing, you have goals and know what you want." Okay, yea, I have goals. But that doesn't mean it's always a good thing.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">About 6 months ago I started a job and signed a contract that I knew might put me in a position where I'd be looking for a job again in a year. Well, that time has come. Kind of, anyway. I still have a few months, but I can't help already trying to figure out what the heck I'm going to do with my life starting in January 2012. Things are very up in the air, and, to be honest, this scares me. It's led me to be very anxious the past week or so, to say the least. I've found it hard to focus on many things, except for figuring out my life. <i>It's driving me nuts! </i>It's probably driving my boyfriend nuts too, but that's besides the point.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I put a Post-It on my desk at work that says "<u>BE</u> <u>HERE</u> <u>NOW!!</u>" The cool thing is that little reminder is actually helping me. I find that, often, because I am a planner, I tend to miss the here and now. This is a problem. I also get tense shoulders because I'm just anxious. Annoying. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now, I'm not saying that I'm ungrateful for the chance to start new again, find another adventure, and expand my experiences. But man, is it stressful sometimes. Maybe the point of this all is to remind me to just chill. Or, as my friend Jade would say, "let it be what it is, man." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I think that's a good reminder. Often we (I) get caught up in the day-to-day activities and just worry. But, according to the boyfriend, "worrying is about effective as trying to solve an algebra equation with chewing gum." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So just let it be what it is, man. It'll all work out in the end.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-73785614106169171032011-05-10T20:24:00.001-05:002011-05-10T20:25:18.221-05:00My True Self<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lately, I have been feeling very stifled. It's taken me a while to figure out this feeling, but somehow I came to that conclusion tonight. Have you ever had someone in your life who you feel is constantly judging you, disapproving of everything you do, and you feel that no matter what you do, you can't be good enough? You just want to yell and scream and shout and say "WHY AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU? WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO PROVE MYSELF BECAUSE I'VE BEEN WORKING MY BOOTY OFF AND I'M EXHAUSTED!!!!!!!" Yep, I've been feeling that. It's been really hard to deal with, because over the past couple of years I feel I've made huge strides in figuring out who I am and who I want to be. I'd finally gotten to a place where I was confident in who I was, in my abilities, and where I was going. Don't get me wrong, I still feel those things. But there is one particular person in my life who is just...stifling. I don't feel free to be myself, my true self, the self that is bubbly and laid back and goofy around this person. And it's exhausting. My heart beats all out of whack when this person is around (and not in a good way) and I can feel my muscles tense up. I'd say this person isn't good for my health.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So how have I dealt with these feelings lately? Every time this person comes around, before they even speak I can hear them in my head, questioning my ability, showing their distrust and trying to fit me into a mold in which they think I should be. But guess what? I cannot be what you want me to be, because I can only be me. "Sarah, breathe," I tell myself. "You can handle this. You are capable and strong. Let it roll off your shoulders." I'm breathing deeply even typing that. "God," I ask, "are you testing me? Because this is really, really, <i>really </i>testing my patience. No, I mean like <i>reeeeeeally."</i> But I already know the answer. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I guess through it all I just have to remember to be patient. I have to remember that, like I said before, I am <i>strong,</i> I am <i>capable</i>, I am <i>smart</i>. I may have to prove myself or maybe I won't ever be good enough for this person (which, by the way, is <i>their</i> problem, not mine.). In these moments I tend to think back on the big trials I've had that have gotten me here, most notably Outward Bound/Pryor and studying in Spain. "If I can conquer Spain, I can do this. If I can fight spiders out of my face and keep my calm, I can do this." BAM! Yea, that's right, take that, <i>you,</i> I will win!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On a side note, my thumb is burning because of jalapeños. At least the curry was yummy, eh??</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-43948653885063390082011-05-02T19:31:00.000-05:002011-05-02T19:31:17.347-05:00Estoy aqui!Lately, I really dislike Mondays. Sometimes, when I walk into my office in the morning, I sit at my desk and quote the line from "Office Space" to myself: "Someone has a case of the Mondays!" Yep, that'd be me. Something about Monday that is difficult. Usually Monday is my slowest day. I always have things to get done, but it seems like it's always less on Mondays. That could be the reason I don't like them, because I find myself bored, daydreaming about Friday. What a pity.<br />
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I think a lot about what I want to do with my life. I've floated past a lot of ideas: human resources, paralegal, Spanish teacher, public relations, journalism. For the most part, I like what I'm doing right now. I'm a communication specialist at the Ford Kansas City Assembly Plant and it's pretty interesting. Working in a manufacturing environment has its ups and downs, but there usually isn't a dull moment, at least not within the plant. My favorite part is learning about all the employees, their stories, where they come from, and the like. One friend is Malaysian but speaks Spanish. Another runs marathons and is hardcore. And yet another is a small white man, but is married to a woman from Puerto Rico. Interesting lives they lead, and if I could, I would sit and listen to allllll the stories from everyone.<br />
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The biggest lesson I've learned about working where I have the past year is that I love people. I have to have a job where I am working with people, all the time, or I will be bored and miserable. And depressed. Okay maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but still. I also need Spanish. I typically find myself speaking in Spanglish, mostly to myself, and I've decided I probably freak out those around me. No pasa nada, si? There I go again.<br />
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I guess 23 isn't the age that I need to have it all figured out, but sometimes I really feel like I should. Just tonight I was talking to my roommate and boyfriend about how we feel that the people in our parents' generation is accustomed to having it all figured out, getting a job right away, and getting on with life. My generation? We'd rather take our time. We'd rather be happy than make money. We'd rather have an exhilarating life without a job, than one with a job that makes us want to die. Again, melodramatic, but you get my point.<br />
<br />
Conclusion? I have all the time in the world. Well, kinda anyway. Maybe I want to get married and have kids by a certain age, but it'll happen when it happens. I want to take my time to figure out what I want to do, career wise, and really dissect things to make sure my chosen career is going to fit my goals as I see them.<br />
<br />
So slow down, world. Let's not worry so much about having it all figured out asap, that's silly.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-83036356346556264292010-02-23T15:57:00.003-06:002010-02-23T16:12:28.911-06:00dolores de crecimiento<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Growing up hurts. Through all my experiences in my lifetime, and in the past 4 years as a student at William Jewell College, I think my senior year of college has been the most strenuous of them all. Some guesses as to why:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">1) The transition back to America from Spain. Harder than I thought.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">2) Coming back to Jewell after 8 months away. I'm a new person, and helping people understand that was/is really frustrating.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">3) Senior Capstones. I have 4. FOUR. One last semester, three right now.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">4) Finding a job/apartment.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">5) Spain or no Spain? That is the question.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I think the biggest thing that has hurt is knowing I have one more year under my parent's roof, one more year to take naps in the afternoon, one more year to figure out my life. Okay, so maybe that's a little dramatic, but still. Finding a job in the midst of three capstones is hard. Basically, it's just growing up, or realizing that I have to grow up (and be on my own) in 3 months, that hurts. Really badly.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">However, I know that in the end, it'll be good. I will be stronger, more well-equipped, employed, and a graduate of William Jewell College when I come out on the other side.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And for those reasons, the growing pains are worth it. Life, bring it on!</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-46495080586305771322010-01-21T16:30:00.003-06:002010-01-21T16:44:43.128-06:00La pasion ha vuelto!!<span style="font-family: arial;">Yesterday was the day. The day for what, you might ask? The day Spanish returned to my life. You see, I haven't spoken Spanish in months. Sad to say, with my return to the States came a return to English, something that was welcomed and hated at the same time. I didn't even have a Spanish class last semester to keep me going, only a measly French class that barely taught me anything (sorry to you French lovers!). But yesterday, much to my amusement, came a walk back to the dorm, and my walking buddy, Julie Bo, who speaks Spanish. Yes, that's right. We spoke Spanish on our walk back to the dorm.<br /><br />Then today, I started my Spanish Capstone class. This class is the reason I was scared to become a major, but now that I'm here, it's not so scary. I love Spanish. Even when it confuses me, pisses me off, and straight up breaks my heart, I always come back for more. A strange love affair, maybe, but one that keeps me intrigued nonetheless. Can I just say how excited I am to be in a class that is going to 1) make me speak Spanish on a regular basis and 2) push me further than I have been pushed in a long while. It is not too much to say that I just plain am happy again, and part of that is due to the fact that Spanish is back in my life. And I'm gonna keep it that way!<br /><br />All this Spanish-speaking makes me think more and more about whether I want to spend a year in Spain teaching. While it has it's pros and cons, I still haven't made a decision. I decided today that I just need to apply (which would require my printer working to print necessary items for the application) and wait. If I'm accepted, then I can decide. If not, I know I must find something else. So that is that.<br /><br />It's incredible to me how one's passion can make a person so happy, yet so confused. I guess I'll just have to follow my heart on this one, whatever that means.<br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-72416823843494207272009-12-24T11:15:00.003-06:002009-12-24T11:33:40.810-06:00Te echo de menos.<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: descansar --> to rest<br /><br />It's funny how things hit us at just the right time it seems, like a kind word, coffee with a friend, a Christmas bonus, or mono. Yes, that's right, mono. And strep too, if you want to be technical about it. For the past two weeks, I have been tired and sick. It allllll started with a golf ball sized swollen lymph node in my neck. I proceeded to buy a half gallon of orange juice and chug it at will, up my vitamins, and try to get extra sleep in an effort to heal my body before it could be taken down. But oh no, this sucker wasn't going to leave my body without a fair fight. Two weeks later the doctor confirmed what I suspected all along (thanks to my boyfriend who gave me the idea): strep and mono. Oh joy, just in time for Christmas.<br /><br />But really, it couldn't have come at a better time. Kinda sorta, anyway. I don't have to deal with homework or finals or worry about infecting the people in my dorm. I actually have time to rest, sleep ungodly amounts during the day, and claim "mono!!" when the parents ask the kids to do chores. Although it does mean one thing: I can't go to Texas this Christmas to see my Dad's side of the family. Normally, this wouldn't sting so badly. But this year, there's something different. The new baby, the end of an era for me, the fact that for the past 15 years, my brother and I have trekked to Texas the day after Christmas, fighting snowy roads, long lines in the airport, and annoying travelers who are obviously unpracticed at flying. But this year, it will be different. And it hurts and it sucks and I hate it.<br /><br />In all of this sickness and my intermittent naps, I have had a chance to think. A lot. I have one semester of college left. And that's scary. I have to find something to do that doesn't include William Jewell College next year. In one manner, the world is my oyster. I can do whatever I want. I can fly to Spain and teach for a year, I can establish myself near family and friends in KC, I can get a job in Texas and be close to family I've never had an opportunity to be close to before. If only someone would make the decision for me, that might just be easier. One thing I know for sure: I will not move back home unless absolutely necessary. I must move and live on my own and be independent.<br /><br />I've also been thinking a lot, due to a brother of mine the same age as me getting married 3 days ago, about marriage. The conclusion I've come to: I am 22 years old. Ain't no way I'm getting married anytime soon. I am too young. I have so much ahead of me, and I am most definitely not ready to tie myself down. No way, no how.<br /><br />Last thing: life just isn't fair, especially when you are a part of a blended family. For those of you who don't understand that lingo, it means step families. It's something I've come to accept and try to ignore, no matter how much it stares me in the face.<br /><br />So for now, I'll go take another nap, eat another Christmas cookie, and wrap presents I've been procrastinating on. Merry Christmas!!<br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-43149190239499502942009-11-06T12:05:00.004-06:002009-11-06T12:24:16.202-06:00La musica de mi corazon<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: flamenco --> flamenco, a form of dance originating in southern Spain, called Andulacia</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">One thing I was able to bring back with me from Spain was a CD called "Cositas Buenas," which is filled with all sorts of different Flamenco songs. While I was in Spain, I had the privilage of taking a Flamenco class from an incredibly talented flamenco dancer. Flamenco is a type of dance that originated in Andulacia, which is the southern part of Spain. It is characterized by specific beats and rhythms, as you can see in the video below. The dancer in this video is named Isabel Bayon. She is a famous Flamenco dancer. Click on the link below to view the video on YouTube. I promise you won't be disappointed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZU4wXqIxVU"><span style="font-family:arial;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZU4wXqIxVU</span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">At the end of the class, we were required to perform what we had learned for our host families and friends. I have a video of it on Facebook, but I can't figure out how to put it on here. If you're interested in watching my mad skillz, check it out on my Facebook. It's super sweet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyway, the CD that I came back with has been on repeat on my iTunes for the past couple of weeks. Listening to it reminds me of the passion and spirit that come with Flamenco dancing. It helps me to relax and not take things so seriously. And, because I can't understand all of the words in the songs, it's great to study to!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">It's incredible how the country, the people, and the traditions that I was introduced to while in Granada keep impacting me to this day, nearly 5 1/2 months later. I am forever changed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-53084651465815184832009-11-03T20:00:00.003-06:002009-11-03T20:17:32.944-06:00La vida perfecta<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: feliz!! --> happy!! (exclamation points added for emphasis)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My life has been a whirlwind these past couple of weeks. I'm already 1/4 of the way through my senior year of COLLEGE. I can't believe this. It means I have to find a job. But while everyone else seems to be stressing out about grad school, law school, and finding a job, I find myself surprisingly calm. Sure, every now and again I have a freak out "OH MY GOSH I HAVE TO PAY MY LOANS STARTING SOON!" or "CRAP, MY PARENT'S HEALTH INSURACE WON'T COVER ME IN ABOUT 7 MONTHS!!" moments, but it's okay. For some reason, I know it'll all work itself out. In talking with a close friend of mine today, I was relieved to find that I'm not the only one who is (probably a little too much) laid back about this whole joining-the-real-world thing. And it made me smile.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My plan right now is to go back to Spain. Yep, you read that right. SPAIN. About every 3.654 days it hits me <em>hard,</em> the remembrance of something in my Spanish life last semester. The clacking of my boots on the pavement, the Spanish coffee sitting on my dresser, the flamenco music that has been on repeat (and I'm pretty sure my residents think I'm weird for it...), or simply hearing Spanish spoken. All of these things will put me right back there. And then I miss it, so badly. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Still, I have been able to find little glimpses of contentedness in my everyday life. These include speaking with Nico, the French foreign exchange student who is incredibly interested in learning the English language. Or sitting in on my internship class and talking about language and its many differences. Or going to Los Compas with a friend and talking to the waiters and hearing their Mexican accents. It's like music to my heart!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Back to the word of the day: happy. I am incredibly happy right where I am right now. Sure, my motivation to do anything related to school was left in Spain. And all I want to do is speak Spanish everyday and go have cafe con leche with my friends. But, some pretty great things have happened as of late. You can infer whatever you want to, but I'm just stinking happy. Like, my face hurts from smiling, happy. And it's goooood.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-85922838653605369982009-10-11T14:01:00.003-05:002009-10-11T14:10:53.130-05:00Estar viva<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: despertar --> to awake</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Am I avoiding homework? Well, claro que si! But I have good reason.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I'm sitting in Starbucks (to get away from the dorm for a while) doing homework. This guy comes and sits down in the seat next to me. I've been here for probably about an hour, in this seat at least, and I just introduced myself to him. I wanted to find out where he's from, because he is obviously not from America. He's from Ethiopia. We didn't have a long extensive conversation, but we chatted about school, America, Europe, the usual. But it's probably the highlight of my day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Everytime I talk with someone about going overseas, or talk to someone foreign, I feel like my heart is being reawakened. I am almost put back in Europe, where I would meet foreigners everyday. The mix of people and the intense amount of diversity made me feel alive. I absolutely love talking with people about their countries, lives, language, and whatever else it is that differs from my seemingly normal American life. It's incredible to me that people who are so different than me have this effect on me, but I'm beginning to think it's for a reason. I'm pretty sure I'm onto something here...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On another note, I had the opportunity to talk to a close friend of mine that I haven't seen in about 10 months the other day. She studied in Granada a year before me. Talking with her made me remember that my experience there was real. She validated all the feelings I have felt for the past 4 1/2 months about missing Granada, confusion about who I am now, and how to move forward. It's like she is reading my mind, literally. I think she might be the only person in America that truely understands how I feel. And I'm extremely thankful for her.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Back to homework I suppose. Que aburrido!!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-14962316326988630892009-10-08T08:57:00.002-05:002009-10-08T09:15:05.125-05:00Un agujero en mi corazon<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: extrañar --> to miss</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">When I woke up this morning, it was raining. Not a hard rain, but a mist, with cloudy skies. I checked the temperature for today-- 55 degrees. First actual cold day of the season. This meant only one thing: no dress today. So I pulled out a turtleneck and my boots to make me feel sassy. The thing is that I haven't worn the turtleneck since I was in Granada. This is evidenced by the clothes pin marks on the bottom of the shirt, showing it had last been dried hanging outside my window in the Granada air. When I realized this, it all the sudden hit me. I'm Granada-sick. And it's bad.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Days like today make me think of Granada in a strong way. As I was walking to class, the clack-clack of my boots made me remember walking through the plazas on the way to class in Granada, my boots making the same distinct sound. Suddenly I was put right back there. Sitting at breakfast, eating the toast with strawberry jam that I came to crave each morning, and drinking my cafe con leche. Looking up to see Ma in the doorway, a smile and "buenas dias!" coming from her cheery self. I miss walking (half-sprinting because we were always late) to class with Ronni and Betsy, laughing and being the loud Americans we were told not to be. The people, the buildings, the birds, the flower salesman, the tile roads that my traction-free boots would almost make me wipe out on everyday, I miss it all. Hearing "hola guapa!" as I walk to class, feeling like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, even if the attention is only because I'm a blonde in a sea of brunettes. Greeting Hermi each morning, his half-smoked cigarette dangling in his hand, arms outstretched for a comforting hug. I've got it bad.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I thought that after almost 4 1/2 months, the same amount of time that I was in Granada, I would be okay. But I'm not. I thought I would go back to normal, but I was wrong. I admit, some of the changes in me are for the better, but that doesn't change the fact that it is different, very very different. I thought life, especially in a place as familiar as Jewell, would go back to normal. But it hasn't. And I don't think it will. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I feel like I'm biding my time, trying to soak up all the time with my friends during my last year here. I'm waiting for the day I can apply to go back to Spain. Not because I hate it here, but because a huge chunck of my heart is left there. I will return to claim it back. I have to.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Until then, I'll keep buying cheese that makes me think of Spain, wearing clothes with pin marks, and walk in boots that threaten to take my life each time I wear them, all so I can remember where I've been, and what I have to look forward to. Hasta luego...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-25624223488376063932009-09-04T11:25:00.002-05:002009-09-04T11:49:47.508-05:00Amor esta mejor<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: amistad --> friendship</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My friends have never meant more to me in my life than they do right now. I am at a place where I want to run and explore and have an adventure. Certain things are confusing and muddled, and I can't seem to figure things out. Yet at the same time, I am completely content, and I seem to know what is going on. A huge part of me feeling like I'm going to be okay where I am is because of my friends. To be honest, I have been overwhelmed by the amount of love and friendship I have been shown since returning to Jewell, and I am incredibly thankful.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I believe love is a basic human need, and a right. Everyone deserves to be loved, and we need it in order to be healthy human beings. I have had two friends recently who are hurting badly because of circumstances, and all they need is love. They both need someone to pay attention to them, listen, have a shoulder to cry on, and just love them. Through it all, they have inspired me to be a better friend, and to simply love.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Because without love, we have nothing.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-28460617295021552472009-08-17T20:54:00.003-05:002009-08-17T21:31:32.060-05:00Es suficiente para mi.<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: gracia -->grace</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">For some reason, there is a big God in my life that likes me. Take that back, <em>loves</em> me. A big love too. I don't know why, and I can't figure it out. My religious past tells me why He loves me, that's good and all, but really? <em>Why? </em>I have done nothing to deserve this, and what's worse, sometimes I do things undeserving of His love. Actually, everyday. Every. Single. Day. Ridiculous. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">But somehow, in the midst of all my failures, He continues to give me grace. Case in point: I tend to overlook things sometimes, er, many times. Like a deadline for a program that I am one year away from completing. I was informed of this deadline today, and actually already have things in the works to complete it. But there is only one reason why: grace. He's helping me figure things out, even though I don't deserve it, even though I haven't asked for it. <em>Why? </em>Grace, that's the only reason. Okay, I'll take it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">-------------------------------</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Randomness:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I have an ant bite on my foot that has caused the whole upper part near my toes to swell. Little devils!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I'll admit it, the last 2 1/2 months have been the hardest I have ever gone through. And not for any reasons that one might think. I haven't been impressed with the way I've handled it, or who I've been. But, it's looking up. And I'm going to figure out who I am, once again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My brothers are some of my favorite people on this planet. They can make me laugh until I cry, get so angry I scream, and love me more than I could ask for. Thanks, brothers, for being you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">It's ice cream time!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-83407353701159360872009-07-16T23:42:00.004-05:002009-07-16T23:50:03.668-05:00Estoy en mi salsa<span style="font-family:arial;">No palabra del dia ahora, porque he escrito 2 entradas hoy y es suficiente. Too bad for you if you can't read that... deberias aprender espanol. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I just wanted to say how amazing the last part of my day was. I was feeling all pouty and crap, but it's amazing how some simple things can turn your day around. Here's a short listing:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">1) Went to Wal-Mart with my mom. She's quite a hoot, let me tell you!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">2. My car died, for the third time (yes, <em>third</em>) this summer, on my way to work. The part about this that makes me happy, I didn't freak out (probably cause I'm used to it by now) and after letting it sit a few minutes, it started right back up. Awesome.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">3- I made good money at work, despite it being a slow night at first.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">4> The customers that came in later were very pleasant. Some of my favorites, actually. It was nice to chat with them and have them tell me I'm the best waitress ever (or something like that). </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">OH, I forgot why I originally was going to write this post. Here goes. Little brother, Craig, just got back from some sort of hippie convention (pottery workshop) in Pittsburgh. He is talking about going to Denmark for a whole year. We got to talking about Europe, along with some other people at work, and I got <em>SO </em>excited!!! When being removed from the situation, it's easy to forget how you felt when you were there. But, I know that I, in fact, LOVE Europe, and going back would be a dream come true, and probably a smart move. I was literally jumping up and down.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Pues, necesito dormir porque tengo que ir mi coche al mecanico manana. Hasta luego!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-52785957864556331482009-07-16T13:57:00.002-05:002009-07-16T14:25:09.923-05:00Corriendo en circulos<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: aburrido --> bored</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">America the... boring. Or maybe that's just Springfield. It could be the fact that my life is a routine of waking up, eating breakfast, working out (if I'm motivated), being lazy, then going to work. I crave adventure, spontaneity, and Europe. It seems everyone I know is either in another country, or going to one. I'm so frustrated right now because I just want to be with my friends, in Europe, not alone in Springfield. But yet, there is still a light at the end of the tunnel (or something like that), which is going to St. Louis this weekend to see friends. I will be surrounded by people I haven't seen in months, hanging out and forgetting all my cares for a weekend. And then next weekend, I get to go to Kansas City and see more people I love. This is good, because it reminds me that my boring summer is only for a season... and for 5 more weeks.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">On the flip side, this whole being away from my friends for 7 months (and counting) thing has taught me a lot about friendship. Without friendship, I don't know where I'd be. It is interesting to see who sticks around when all you have to rely on is Facebook chats, Skype dates, and emails. To be honest, I'm really really blessed with my friends, and I don't know what I would do without them. I can't wait to be reunited with all of them when I return to Jewell in 5 short weeks!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Okay I'll end with one (or maybe a couple things) that I love about Springfield, especially in the summertime: thunderstorms that are so loud they shake the house and make you want to stay in bed all day and sleep. Watching it rain while sitting on the deck. Sitting outside on the deck with my momma, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. Andy's Frozen Custard. Running on the trails through the park in the midst of the hot summer sun. Riding in my car with the sunroof open and music blaring. Playing with my adorable pup, Abbie. Sunsets that take your breath away.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">With that, I am off to be productive. Paz afuera!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-17659763795261138952009-06-22T22:07:00.002-05:002009-06-22T22:38:49.111-05:00Esta aqui ahora mismo.<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia:</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">paciencia --> patience</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I went on a bike ride the other day (despite the near 100 degree weather and humidity that makes you feel like you're in a sauna) because I needed to get out. I needed to feel the wind on my face in a way that running couldn't give me. I needed to get out in nature, where I always feel most alive. I needed time to just me. And it was goooood.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I talked to God. I asked him what in the heck I was supposed to be doing with my life. Or more specifically, what I was supposed to be doing this summer, stuck in Springfield when I just want to be back in Spain. This is what I feel like he told me: even though I don't like this place right now, that doesn't give me an excuse to like the people. Sure, there's many many many things I don't like about America. But others, it's not so bad. Springfield is my home, this is true. It helped shape me into who I am. I am grateful for that. I am ready to move on, yes, but I am here now, and there's nothing I can do about it (especially cause I have no money to go anywhere else!). So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to love people. I'm going to volunteer, hopefully speaking Spanish. I miss speaking it so badly. I try to speak it at home, but you can imagine the look on my mom's face when she doesn't understand a word I'm saying. I'm also going to love people at work. Even though they can drive me nuts, I'm going to love them. I'm going to serve them. I'm going to soak up the time I have with my mom and step-dad at home, and little brother who I see mostly at work, because I know in a few short weeks, I'll be back at school. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Another question running through my head has been what the heck am I doing with my life?! What am I supposed to do after I graduate? I only have one more year of school left, and it's just now hitting me. Okay, I love Spanish, Jesus, and people. There's gotta be a job for that. Mission work? I don't know. Non-profit organization? Possibly. I know I have a strong desire to go overseas, and I feel like that will happen. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">It's funny to think that me, who didn't want to leave Springfield when she left for college, is now ready to move on from this place and see the world. Or part of it. Or all of it, that'd be swell. It's incredible to me to see the change in myself, when I once remember thinking "Change? Right, like I'm going to change!" Hm. All in all, I feel like I'm in a good place right now. I have a new perspective on life, and even though I have ants in my pants about going back to Spain, I somehow can understand why I'm here now. It's good.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Lastly, I'm going to Texas this weekend for my dad's wedding. I'm so stinkin excited! Except for the 100+ degree weather, humidity, and fire ants part. I get to see my brothers and sisters-in-law and niece and nephews (one of which was born in March and I haven't met yet!!). It'll be a great family time. Also, my soon-to-be step-mom, Gracie, is Mexican. That means her family is Mexican too. And they're going to be at the wedding. Which means... (drumroll please...!!!!!) I GET TO SPEAK SPANISH TO PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTAND IT THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! It's like a friggin' dream come true, I tell ya. I don't think I could be more excited. I might even just act like I don't understand English so they don't have a choice but to speak Spanish to me. Muahahahahaha!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Okay now I'm just gettin ridiculous! Until next time................</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-88585708874937492162009-06-12T22:13:00.002-05:002009-06-12T22:39:38.159-05:00No tengo un idea.<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia:</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">soledad --> loneliness</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">So. I've been back in good 'ole Springfield, Missouri for about 2 weeks now. It's a strange feeling. I have days where I think I'm doing alright, and others where I hate this place. Mostly, I have been feeling pretty lonely. It's strange because usually there are quite a few people around me on a regular basis. It's not that I necessarily have a lack of people to hang out with (though, I say this as I'm sitting at Starbucks, alone, on a Friday night...don't judge). **Random thought, I have a book in my possession called "The Path of Loneliness" that a friend lent to me before I left for Spain. I think I've read about 8 pages of it. Maybe now is a good time to dust it off?** Anyway, loneliness. It's a strange thing. I've spent my recent days house sitting, hanging out with my favorite cousin Laura. She is one of my favorite people. Her and I have always gotten along and understood eachother in a special way, almost like sisters. Though we don't live close, we tend to be somewhat close. We have been house sitting for our grandma together, and it's been a great time to hang out and talk and really just get to know one another better. When I'm not hanging out with her, I've been at my new job waitressing, or at least trying to waitress. It's a bit overwhelming right now, but I'll get the hang of it, I'm sure.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The loneliness part comes in here: No one here understands me. Not a soul. All my Granada friends (who are American) live everywhere but the Midwest (with the exception of Steph who, if I had the money, time, and a car that didn't leak antifreeze like it's a job, I would visit in Chicago). Like I said before, I am a different person. I believe different things. Or I should say, I think I do. Because I don't even know what I believe about certain things. It's a strange feeling when you come back to your home and don't agree with it. Like your favorite childhood food, sometimes when you try it later, it just doesn't agree with you. And maybe there's nothing I can do to fix this. But in the meantime, I intend to try to figure it out, by whatever means I have to take to do so.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Here's some recent random things that have happened to me as a result of this:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">1) I overheard a woman the other day saying something about going to Mexico. She said (and I quote), "You know, if you go to Mexico, you almost <em>have </em>to speak Mexican." Um, EXCUSE ME?!! Mexican?! Lady, that is an ethnicity, a type of food, NOT A LANGUAGE. It's called Spanish. Seriously. How ignorant can people be?! I don't get it. I wanted to chew her out. Too bad it wasn't my place, (and I may have gotten fired from my job on my first day) because I totally would have done it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">2) I had a weird dream the other night. I was with a group of people my age-ish. We were somewhere, I don't know, a camp or something, sitting outside in the grass. Everyone else was already there, and I came up to the group to join them. As I approached them, I saw iPhones, iPods, everything material, and heard the dreaded "So like..." way of talking. You know what I mean. And, in my dream, to these people I said, "Whoa, I have to leave. I can't be around you all right now cause I'm just going to judge you. Bye." I think this probably explains some of my attitude right now, as much as I try to fight it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">These two examples are just part of my life right now. I know it's because I've been exposed to a different life, different religions, different everything, that certain aspects of the American way of life are just not... suitable?.... for me anymore. It's not what I want, or what I understand, or what I agree with I guess. Maybe it'll get better, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Please understand me: I don't hate America. Or Americans. I'm just going through culture shock right now, against my own culture, and it's weird.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Back to being lonely. I don't know what to do. There are so many people that I know understand me in my life, friends and such. But here's the problem. NONE OF THEM LIVE IN MISSOURI. Not cool. I need a transporter (or just a new car, unlimited money and time) to go visit them all. Seriously.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Last thing, when people ask me if I'm going to go back to Spain, my response is "Why yes, I am. After I graduate. For a year to teach." I tell people this to A) show them how much I love Spain and B) convince myself and get it into my head that it is actually going to happen, because if I don't convince myself, it won't happen. However, while I was running the other day, I decided why not? I don't have anything holding me back. I won't get this opportunity again. While others are busy getting jobs here, going to school, getting married, whatever they may be doing, I will be going to Spain. Because nothing is holding me back. And I like it like that. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Please do me a favor. Yes, you. If you see me, please give me a hug. I could really use it. And if I cry and sniffle on your new shirt, just grin and bear it.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-80884372223286190032009-05-30T12:28:00.002-05:002009-05-30T12:51:12.683-05:00Where am I?!<span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: incomodo --> uncomfortable/awkward</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Isn't home where you're supposed to feel most comfortable? My recent life experiences have proved this isn't true. I arrived home (well, Kansas City for the weekend with my sister, my second home) on Thursday night. It was a looooong journey, to say the least. It started with a 4:30am (Spain time) wake up call in Malaga, where we had stayed in a hostal the night before. I didn't sleep well that night because it was hot, there were people being loud in our hostal, and since Barcelona had just won the "SuperBowl of Soccer" (as my host brother Nacho likes to call it), people were shouting and honking and being loud in the streets for a really long time. Needless to say, I was tired from the start. My friend Sarah and I got up and got to the airport for our respective 7am flights. She headed to Athens to meet her boyfriend, me to Madrid. When I arrived to Madrid, I got some Starbucks (much to my dismay, actually. I really miss Spanish cafe con leche!) and sat to write in my journal. Literally, as I was sitting there, I was fighting tears. This has been a common occurance for the past 3 weeks or so. There's been a number of things attributing to this, the biggest one of them all being the realization that I have to leave Spain. Really I just wanted to get it all out, but I knew that wasn't the time. So I had a 3 hour layover in Madrid. I wrote, wandered, and got $33 American dollars back from my 15 Euro and 5 UK Pounds left. Cha-ching! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Finally boarding time came and I was relieved to get on the plane. But not so relieved to leave Spain. I almost cried again. Sheesh. I ended up sitting by this 40-something year old guy who thought I was Spanish (um, what? Do you see the blonde hair?) and kept calling me "senora." **Side note, senora is used for older women, it's senorita that is used for younger. Thanks.** We didn't talk until food finally came around. Then we figured out we were both American, go figure. His name is John, he works at Macy's and lives in Chicago, and he said his life revolves around going to Europe. Interesting flight. I didn't barely sleep cause I was crammed in my seat. Note to the wise, the table doubles as a good head rest, even though it's slightly uncomfortable being bent over in that small seat. Whatever, I was tired.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">After 9 hours, we finally arrived in Chicago. We had to get off the plane, get our bags, go through customs, and recheck our bags for connecting flights. Long story short, I missed my connection because this all took too long. We got in a little after 2pm</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">(central US time)</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">and I wasn't able to catch a plane until 8:35pm. So that means 6 HOURS in the Chicago airport. At this point, I want to tell you about some things I immediately noticed about America in my exhausted, I-don't-want-to-be-in-America-right-now state.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">1) I found that I am a lot more aware of diversity. Everywhere I looked I picked out the non-white people in my brain. And, I favored those who looked Spanish or Middle-Eastern. Go figure. Maybe it's the familiarity of it all?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">2) I'm sorry, but America as a whole is a lot fatter than Spain. It's the truth. Sorry if you think I'm being insensitive, but it is clear when you look at it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">When I finally got on the airplane to Kansas City, I was surprised I hadn't fallen over from sleep exhaustion. At this point, I had legitimately been awake for at least 24 hours. Mom advised me to "drink some coffee so you actually get in the right car when you get to Kansas City," as in actually find my sister. Haha, thanks for the advice, Mom. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Now for a tangent. I don't know if you notice this, but I think that first class is the stupidest invention ever. EVER. Seriously, what purpose does it serve? Unless you want to shell out enourmous amounts of money on a flight, why else would you sit first class? The only excuse I could find was on a looooong flight (I'd say over 4 hours) in which the comfortableness (yes, I just made that word up) of the seat would be good for sleeping. On the plane from Chicago to Kansas City, I thought it was ridiculous. The flight attendant brought a glass cup with some sort of alcohol to almost every passenger in first class. Really, people?! Is it necessary? You can't hold off for an hour and a half till you get to your destination? YOU'RE PAYING FOR A GLASS CUP!!!! I think it's ridiculous.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">So now that I'm back in the States, how am I feeling? Well, I feel like I don't belong. My poor sister, God bless her, is such a sweetheart for putting up with my not-always-positive attitude. I can't even describe it. It's like I'm a stranger in a strange land. I literally don't feel like I belong. I know this will pass with time, but right now I'm exhausted and confused. I find myself getting tired of speaking in English and still speak in Spanish. This can't be good for one's brain. I know I have to adjust at some point, and I'm sure I will. The trick will be combining the me now with the me I was before, because I'm different now. So if you see me, and I seem confused/upset/dazed/cranky, please just go with it. I'll be better soon, hopefully.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">That's all for now. I'm going to go sleep off some more jet lag.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-20995803725322898342009-05-23T09:16:00.002-05:002009-05-23T09:19:51.625-05:00Parting is such sweet sorrow.<span style="font-family:arial;">I am so exhausted. My brain is on the fritz. Seriously. I can barely think in Spanish. Or speak for that matter. My room looks like a war zone. It's my last day in Granada as part of the IES program. I hate goodbyes. (But I do get to say hello to my best friend, Kelsey, when she arrives here TOMORROW!!! Seeing her is the silver lining, for sure!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">This whole thing has been such a dream/amazing experience/more than I could have imagined. And it's almost over. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. If I had my way, I wouldn't go back. Not now. Maybe not ever. I'm really going to miss it. Everything about it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">That being said, I need to go pack and spend some quality time with Ma. More later when I can think straight.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1100022288581312216.post-3441305485876556632009-05-21T13:57:00.019-05:002009-05-21T14:54:13.107-05:00If I don't show up in the States, you'll know where I am.<div><span style="font-family:arial;">Palabra del dia: el final -->the end</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">I can't believe it. The end is near, too near. Three days, to be exact. I will be moving out of my homestay in three days. However, the good thing to note is that I'm staying here for another week because my flight doesn't leave Spain until May 28th. Haha, suckers!! Just kidding. Kinda. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">I know it's been a while since I've blogged, but I promise I've had a good reason, and his name is Rayner. My Kiwi friend (that means from New Zealand) came to visit me on May 7th for a week and a half or so. It was SO FUN! I had prepared in advance and gotten most all of my homework done so that I didn't have to worry about it while he was here. I was determined to show him the magic of Granada without my homework on my mind. In the week and a half he was here, I'm pretty sure I saw more of Granada and explored more here than I have in the 4 1/2 months I've been here. Lame, I know, but sometimes things just don't get done, ya know?! </span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">So what'd we do? Well, let's see. I took him to all my favorite tapas places, and there's a lot. We walked around the city and saw the history of it all. In the afternoons, we stopped for ice cream or a drink at an outside cafe and watched the sunset (at 9:15 or 9:30pm, might I add!). We wandered around the Albaicin, the old historic district of Granada where all the hippies live. On Sunday, we went to Nerja, a beach about 2 hours from Granada by bus, with my friend Montana and her Spanish friend Ivan. It was so fun just the four of us. We lazed on the beach, ate the heaps of food we had, swam in the <em>freezing cold </em>water, and got sunburned. Ahhhh Spain. I'm livin the life, I'm tellin you! If it weren't for the homework, it'd be perfect! Let's see what else did we do... we ate a lot of ice cream. There's this great ice cream place that I always go to and they have the BEST dark chocolate ice cream. I don't know how they do it, but it's fantabulous! On Tuesday we made a day of going to the Alhambra, something I hadn't been able to go see yet. It was gorgeous, especially when we were at the top and the sun was starting to set. I took some sweet pictures you'll see soon. On Wednesday, Ma (my host mom, as I affectionately call her) invited Rayner over for lunch. She made paella, a traditional Spanish dish. It was quite interesting because Rayner doesn't speak any Spanish, and Ma doesn't speak English. The translators were Nacho (my host brother) and I. However, I know Spanish a little better than Nacho knows English, I think, so I did most of the translating. It was weird to be in that position but gave me a lot of confidence in my Spanish skills. There were even times when I would hear Spanish and forget to translate it in English, because it doesn't seem foreign anymore. I like the sound of that! We also went to Parque de las Ciencias, a museum that was pretty cool. I hadn't been before, mostly because it's literally on the other side of the city and hadn't had anyone to go with, but it was cool. And they had an Antarctica exhibit which was a nice relief from the hot weather outside! Besides that, we just explored the city, did some shopping at the Arab stores, you know, all the great stuff about Granada. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">My favorite part of the week was being able to hang out with someone that I met randomly in Europe and just talking and learning about one another. We're from different sides of the world, literally, but we have so much in common. I'd laugh at his funny Kiwi words he'd use and he'd use his incredible sense of direction to figure out where we were when we took streets I didn't know. We had so much fun just hanging out, and it makes me really thankful I was able to have an experience like this in Spain. It is definitely something that I did not expect, but it's one of my favorite memories from studying abroad.</span><br /></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Now to the sad part. Most of my friends are leaving in the next three days. Our last dinner is tomorrow night. We got an email from our director telling us about how we're going to miss Granada and have an "olive-smelling emptiness" when we return back to the States. I don't quite know what that means, but I know I'm not going to like it. I'm going to miss walking to class and seeing all the people I see on a regular basis: that guy with the hat and scarf that I always pass, the kids on their way to school, the guy who takes off his shoes and talks to himself in Gran Capitan Plaza, the cute guy that works in the fruit store on the corner of Plaza Trinidad, the adorable old lady that sells bread in the same plaza, the flower guy who always says "buenos dias," the construction workers who always look at me weirdly cause I'm obviously not Spanish, and all the hippies who mingle in Plaza Nueva, to name a few. I have taken it all for granted, I'm sure, but I know I'm thankful for it. These past 4 1/2 months have been the most unexpected, challenging, growing, life-changing months of my life. I am not the same person I was when I left in January, as I have said before. I hope to not return to the person I was before when I get back to the States either. I think I've changed for the better, and I'm proud of who I am today. That being said, those of you who will be around me a lot when I return, please be patient as my transition is not going to be smooth I don't think. And please just nod and smile and look interested when I say funny Spanish phrases or tell Granada stories. I just need to share my excitement, okay?! </span></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338363200998917922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2ODN3BFCZSXC3OJaeC4O9mErZqLrp-VXr7WFn-i_h2tKvS2UDfLOm9Teef9otk4biANdAMedyg7j_X_4DaIzNSbLpsmpAnIvajtVHL-qgI5oDm4cIz0yCuVl85XwiUHzH-Z1Uu7Rhds/s320/P1010876.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:arial;">Nerja, compliments of Rayner. He's a really good photographer, he just won't admit it!</span><br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338363620065670034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiValllp4n39QsvpfnBbic4HhWNYEUeR6PIu4qMKEXsDiOA6UivKCjhpdMYCNflGdTBJHtbMLHN-l0UTZBopj3y-hZ3GdWq56z_qmuzLJ6ZJhnH2IH6ZL_oAdoYLXd7yyIMNHBPY3YoZnk/s320/IMG_1589.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Cafe con leche y tostada con tomate at my favorite cafe!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338364155489048514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2r6pSwmJ8-LCaZkg3QpKFquYpnpBJGQZk73yYJkJwK7LzrKxde4iv8fxFQZFrcDE_yOTztESEW-mPWtGaMSLWzHh3bNM-InsFBFL0PixCL1K7Wo3X7oBajov-CZ1aOTnZ9XEjquZRTmE/s320/IMG_1736.jpg" border="0" />Stopping to smell the roses in the gardens at the Alhambra.<br /><br /></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338364623757502434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_hLZEtLHt_yetPGT3jWiFqfSeHQ_mPVQo71bTU9OyZJ3zNxCXmBbUQLXPMX-Da4ZlQtxBVy-nHlaL9QQxyj-8wq8HdY4mpIpmFlOm890HLiquhLxhV1aPxx-Bhhgfef9dXVpnW7RJHQ/s320/IMG_1763.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Palaces at the Alhambra. These kings were filthy rich!<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338364991069679090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVdRxxSqqoAFmPS-FWrksPD5-uKPOi78zHH3MUQ9OWcXQfrd5d3Y8X_PXIcLMI6z407X3CLuYx6XSWwSi1cEpfdAfpdJiYMncEoF0iKgZbqfTybUqNwYcK2KFeTpwaDlHhZLh_7uZj48/s320/IMG_1779.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">This is one of my favorite pictures of me at the Alhambra.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338365354442145394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8FAi9Iyyfy9zmjmCJoF87-NqGIYZb3HmECHEr-_9uHAgGyHfzjwAaG1uCyFISBjNrDJsyGJGf7LMHdxYp-dHYEADs47Ux0pbPzHwKQJV5F9yMYSWy2PAQapoqfIvuNfygeR7jeraY39s/s320/IMG_1845.jpg" border="0" />Coolest. Picture. Ever. At the Alhambra, of course.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338367607338271554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLjUcSedTRfPgqogNNq26_QzSU6kPvuY4T4uaCmZ7Of6Q8g3Tyb_y_NS5WfZbgh4vjIB7-ZIJI_eWyHZc1rq8HBy4X6wfP7Asjd79uq8h5SZkwpHPbIOKU7Ww_rs3Zz6qeonG2VKvQpAM/s320/IMG_1755.jpg" border="0" />Us at the Alhambra. Smile Rayner!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Okay so I need to add more pictures, I know. But it's tapa time, and I'm late. Hasta luego!<br /></span><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0