why?
why do I always do that? talk just to talk.
talk for attention with no thought of the meaning of words.
less talking, more thinking.
this must stop.
immediately.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
To the Doctor and Creepers of the Night
You're in luck today. I have two stories to share. They happened a few weeks ago but I had completely forgotten until well, now.
Better late than never I guess.
The ACA students are required to get x-rayed and get a check-up, so 5 of us drove into Annecy for our doctors visit. Upon our arrival the lady at the desk, checked our papers and told us to have a seat. I was just about to get comfortable when they called my name. I got up and followed another lady in a white lab coat into a closet type room and she hastily informed me that I was to take my clothes off from the waist up. My face must've looked quite confused as I asked her if I was just getting a chest x-ray. She repeated herself again as she left the room and I started tearing of my clothes, she seemed rushed and so I didn't want to prolong the process.
I was almost undressed when she poked her head through the door on the opposite side of the "closet". Creepy.
She ushered me into this room entirely gray and industrial looking. My hands were placed on my chest as I gingerly walked across the room, looking for a table to lay myself on. She motioned to a stage-like platform near a marble looking wall.
I was supposed to step onto the platform and press myself against the wall while breathing in. I'll let that sink in.
Awkward, yeah I know.
The woman walked into a little office with a window facing me and counted to three while I breathed in feeling every inch of cold that can be felt while being pressed up against a black, cold, marble wall. After less than two seconds she said, "C'est tout!" and ushered me back into the closet. I chuckled to myself as I got dressed and walked out to the waiting room. The others asked me how it went and as I was about to explain they asked one of the girls, Meredith, to step into the closet. I finished explaining myself and after the tittering died down we heard an alarmed "Oh!" come from the room. We laughed realizing that Meredith had just experienced the awkwardness. What we didn't know is that she had reached another level of awkwardness that none of us would experience.
A few moments later, a red-faced and flustered Meredith stepped out and plopped herself down on a seat.
"How was it?" someone asked.
"I thought she meant take all my clothes off, even my underwear."
Well that did it, we were laughing so hard we cried. Poor Meredith.
Lesson of the day: going for a simple x-ray in France equals partially removing your clothing with no protective x-ray gear, or in the case of Meredith, complete nudity.
*******************************************************************************
That same week was the birthday of one of our french friends here so we decided to go into Switzerland to celebrate. We went to a great little restaurant tucked away in the older, more historic part of Geneva. After great laughs and a great meal we decided to go for a walk by the lake. It was snowing out and the christmas lights were still up and shinning brightly. There were eight of us, five girls and three guys. As we were walking around the lake, Aurèlie, the birthday girl, nudged me hard in my side and whispered, "there's a guy following us, run!" I didn't even think twice and I ran. Idiot move. Five other men came out of the shadows as drunk as can be and started running after all of us girls, slurring invitations to goodness knows. The three boys of course hadn't run, they were still lagging behind us, walking calmly, trying to keep the five men away from us. At one point, one of the men started pushing Tarsis, one of our guys around, but he didn't react he just kept walking. They followed us for a good 10 minutes and after seeing that we stopped reacting, they finally slinked back into the darkness where they came from.
A little scared, was I? I was.
Thank goodness for the guys. I don't know what we ladies would've done.
Better late than never I guess.
The ACA students are required to get x-rayed and get a check-up, so 5 of us drove into Annecy for our doctors visit. Upon our arrival the lady at the desk, checked our papers and told us to have a seat. I was just about to get comfortable when they called my name. I got up and followed another lady in a white lab coat into a closet type room and she hastily informed me that I was to take my clothes off from the waist up. My face must've looked quite confused as I asked her if I was just getting a chest x-ray. She repeated herself again as she left the room and I started tearing of my clothes, she seemed rushed and so I didn't want to prolong the process.
I was almost undressed when she poked her head through the door on the opposite side of the "closet". Creepy.
She ushered me into this room entirely gray and industrial looking. My hands were placed on my chest as I gingerly walked across the room, looking for a table to lay myself on. She motioned to a stage-like platform near a marble looking wall.
I was supposed to step onto the platform and press myself against the wall while breathing in. I'll let that sink in.
Awkward, yeah I know.
The woman walked into a little office with a window facing me and counted to three while I breathed in feeling every inch of cold that can be felt while being pressed up against a black, cold, marble wall. After less than two seconds she said, "C'est tout!" and ushered me back into the closet. I chuckled to myself as I got dressed and walked out to the waiting room. The others asked me how it went and as I was about to explain they asked one of the girls, Meredith, to step into the closet. I finished explaining myself and after the tittering died down we heard an alarmed "Oh!" come from the room. We laughed realizing that Meredith had just experienced the awkwardness. What we didn't know is that she had reached another level of awkwardness that none of us would experience.
A few moments later, a red-faced and flustered Meredith stepped out and plopped herself down on a seat.
"How was it?" someone asked.
"I thought she meant take all my clothes off, even my underwear."
Well that did it, we were laughing so hard we cried. Poor Meredith.
Lesson of the day: going for a simple x-ray in France equals partially removing your clothing with no protective x-ray gear, or in the case of Meredith, complete nudity.
*******************************************************************************
That same week was the birthday of one of our french friends here so we decided to go into Switzerland to celebrate. We went to a great little restaurant tucked away in the older, more historic part of Geneva. After great laughs and a great meal we decided to go for a walk by the lake. It was snowing out and the christmas lights were still up and shinning brightly. There were eight of us, five girls and three guys. As we were walking around the lake, Aurèlie, the birthday girl, nudged me hard in my side and whispered, "there's a guy following us, run!" I didn't even think twice and I ran. Idiot move. Five other men came out of the shadows as drunk as can be and started running after all of us girls, slurring invitations to goodness knows. The three boys of course hadn't run, they were still lagging behind us, walking calmly, trying to keep the five men away from us. At one point, one of the men started pushing Tarsis, one of our guys around, but he didn't react he just kept walking. They followed us for a good 10 minutes and after seeing that we stopped reacting, they finally slinked back into the darkness where they came from.
A little scared, was I? I was.
Thank goodness for the guys. I don't know what we ladies would've done.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Burgers...or NOT.
Hilarious.
Today, I have been deceived.
I walked into the cafe and instead of our usual polenta with some mushroom goop, there before my eyes were burgers and fries. My mouth watered a little bit and my eyes teared up when I thought of home and eating burgers. Any kind really, veggie or meat. I was thinking how thoughtful it was of the chef to cook us an american lunch. I remembered the goodness. I remembered it, and then I got closer to the line. I saw cheese and a slice of tomato in between the buns but that was it.
"hmmm that's a little strange" I thought to myself. I pushed the thought aside and put the plate on my tray.
"Merci Chef!" I proclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
"Derien my petite" he replied with a smile as he continued serving the others.
The anticipation was killing me but I got a drink, utensils and condiments (they taste different here by the way) and made it to my seat. Finally ready I raised the burger to my mouth the smell slightly different, nonetheless I was excited, and took a colossal bite.
Corn?!
No!
Yes.
My taste buds recoiled in surprise/they didn't know exactly what to feel.
There was no burger in my burger bun for it was just a corn patty and a very small and well hidden one at that.
Oh well, at least they tried.
Today, I have been deceived.
I walked into the cafe and instead of our usual polenta with some mushroom goop, there before my eyes were burgers and fries. My mouth watered a little bit and my eyes teared up when I thought of home and eating burgers. Any kind really, veggie or meat. I was thinking how thoughtful it was of the chef to cook us an american lunch. I remembered the goodness. I remembered it, and then I got closer to the line. I saw cheese and a slice of tomato in between the buns but that was it.
"hmmm that's a little strange" I thought to myself. I pushed the thought aside and put the plate on my tray.
"Merci Chef!" I proclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
"Derien my petite" he replied with a smile as he continued serving the others.
The anticipation was killing me but I got a drink, utensils and condiments (they taste different here by the way) and made it to my seat. Finally ready I raised the burger to my mouth the smell slightly different, nonetheless I was excited, and took a colossal bite.
Corn?!
No!
Yes.
My taste buds recoiled in surprise/they didn't know exactly what to feel.
There was no burger in my burger bun for it was just a corn patty and a very small and well hidden one at that.
Oh well, at least they tried.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
To be a child
dead.
Not physically of course, according to any medically concerned person I would still be living. So what’s the deal? you ask.
Well, I feel dead. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally. All the -ally’s but mostly spiritually. I’ve been living in a dark hole for awhile. No, I’m not depressed. I still get up every morning, eat breakfast and attended to my daily duties. I haven’t been feeling suicidal or unable to function physically, that is. I have been noticing a lack of motivation however and I’m not quite sure where to begin as far as tackling this feeling...
I’m listening to Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”. I think it might be one of my favorite classical pieces ever. Hearing this piece brings one vivid memory in particular; my high school orchestra experience. I remember playing this as a second violin in the second chair next to Joy Nugent. I felt so proud to be the second chair of the second violin section (not that I really earned it, I never practiced) and tried my best to be a good section leader. I remember sitting in my chair, in my blue and khaki uniform, tapping my foot and counting silently in my head. I was wishing that I could be anywhere else. So I let the music carry me away wherever it wanted.
I was a daydreamer.
A church hazily came into view, people inside wearing dark colored clothing while someone up front seemed to be talking about a young girl. My funeral? It seemed like it, there was a picture of my face on the coffin. Morbid, I know but it happened. The daydream didn’t end there. The music carried me someplace else. This time I was standing with millions of others, outside it seemed with chaos surrounding me but I wasn’t concerned. I was focusing my gaze on something or rather, Someone else. Our eyes met, and He smiled and reached out a hand to me. I grabbed it immediately, my eyes never leaving His. Then it happened. There is a part of this piece, the last two minutes of the song, where the notes brighten almost celestially as if there is an ascension taking place.
I remember closing my eyes tightly during this part to keep the tears from flowing down my face. I was thinking, “ I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home with You,” as my bow strokes got stronger, longer and faster, my heart rate picked up speed. Instantly I felt as if I was being lifted out of my chair soaring closer, and closer to my Maker. Higher and higher the notes got. The melody and harmonies intertwined. Closer and closer I could see in the distance what He had been preparing all this time. Finally all would be well. Finally I could be with Him.
I opened my eyes, wetness and blurriness hindered my sight for a bit. I couldn’t reach up to wipe it away because the aria wasn’t over. The pause only allowed for me to start breathing again, I hadn’t even realized that I had been holding my breath. I had been clutching onto my bow for dear life, as if His hand had truly been in mine.
I tried as much as I could to compose myself to finish the remainder of Samuel’s masterpiece. I had just gotten a glimpse, as far as my imagination could take me, of meeting my Creator.
The song ended, and the bell rang proclaiming that the class period was over. My peers jumped out of their seats hastily putting away violins, violas and cello’s. I couldn’t move. I sat in my seat trying to re-live that moment in my mind.
What will it take to believe like a child again? At the tender age of 16, on that day, I was ready to go Home.
Today, older and hopefully a little bit wiser, unfortunately that same zeal isn’t there. I’ve seem to have lost it somehow. This time, it’s not tears of realization and joy that have temporarily blocked my sight. Life’s realities, pressures, and daily responsibilities have clouded my vision. I've made a decision today and I hope it lasts. I’m not going to let it get me down. I’m going to fight it. I’m going to let Him fight it. We’re going to fight it.
I want to believe like a child again. It’s the only way.
“He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: ‘ I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’
- Matthew 18: 2-4
P.S- If you've got 5 min to spare I recommend listening to this song. Maybe then you'll be able to understand what I felt.
Don't mind the cheesy text.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dPDO3Tfab0
Not physically of course, according to any medically concerned person I would still be living. So what’s the deal? you ask.
Well, I feel dead. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally. All the -ally’s but mostly spiritually. I’ve been living in a dark hole for awhile. No, I’m not depressed. I still get up every morning, eat breakfast and attended to my daily duties. I haven’t been feeling suicidal or unable to function physically, that is. I have been noticing a lack of motivation however and I’m not quite sure where to begin as far as tackling this feeling...
I’m listening to Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”. I think it might be one of my favorite classical pieces ever. Hearing this piece brings one vivid memory in particular; my high school orchestra experience. I remember playing this as a second violin in the second chair next to Joy Nugent. I felt so proud to be the second chair of the second violin section (not that I really earned it, I never practiced) and tried my best to be a good section leader. I remember sitting in my chair, in my blue and khaki uniform, tapping my foot and counting silently in my head. I was wishing that I could be anywhere else. So I let the music carry me away wherever it wanted.
I was a daydreamer.
A church hazily came into view, people inside wearing dark colored clothing while someone up front seemed to be talking about a young girl. My funeral? It seemed like it, there was a picture of my face on the coffin. Morbid, I know but it happened. The daydream didn’t end there. The music carried me someplace else. This time I was standing with millions of others, outside it seemed with chaos surrounding me but I wasn’t concerned. I was focusing my gaze on something or rather, Someone else. Our eyes met, and He smiled and reached out a hand to me. I grabbed it immediately, my eyes never leaving His. Then it happened. There is a part of this piece, the last two minutes of the song, where the notes brighten almost celestially as if there is an ascension taking place.
I remember closing my eyes tightly during this part to keep the tears from flowing down my face. I was thinking, “ I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home with You,” as my bow strokes got stronger, longer and faster, my heart rate picked up speed. Instantly I felt as if I was being lifted out of my chair soaring closer, and closer to my Maker. Higher and higher the notes got. The melody and harmonies intertwined. Closer and closer I could see in the distance what He had been preparing all this time. Finally all would be well. Finally I could be with Him.
I opened my eyes, wetness and blurriness hindered my sight for a bit. I couldn’t reach up to wipe it away because the aria wasn’t over. The pause only allowed for me to start breathing again, I hadn’t even realized that I had been holding my breath. I had been clutching onto my bow for dear life, as if His hand had truly been in mine.
I tried as much as I could to compose myself to finish the remainder of Samuel’s masterpiece. I had just gotten a glimpse, as far as my imagination could take me, of meeting my Creator.
The song ended, and the bell rang proclaiming that the class period was over. My peers jumped out of their seats hastily putting away violins, violas and cello’s. I couldn’t move. I sat in my seat trying to re-live that moment in my mind.
What will it take to believe like a child again? At the tender age of 16, on that day, I was ready to go Home.
Today, older and hopefully a little bit wiser, unfortunately that same zeal isn’t there. I’ve seem to have lost it somehow. This time, it’s not tears of realization and joy that have temporarily blocked my sight. Life’s realities, pressures, and daily responsibilities have clouded my vision. I've made a decision today and I hope it lasts. I’m not going to let it get me down. I’m going to fight it. I’m going to let Him fight it. We’re going to fight it.
I want to believe like a child again. It’s the only way.
“He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: ‘ I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’
- Matthew 18: 2-4
P.S- If you've got 5 min to spare I recommend listening to this song. Maybe then you'll be able to understand what I felt.
Don't mind the cheesy text.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dPDO3Tfab0
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
AVORIAZ
Yesterday I went snowboarding for the first time in my life.
In the French Alps.
My body hates me.
It was an amazing experience. I will probably do it again.
