Scotland

In the next few posts, I'll try to depict the awesomeness of our recent trip to Scotland. The words and pictures won't do it justice, but oh well.

Once upon a time...

This morning as I awoke in my comfy bed to the sun barely peaking through the blinds in the house of my dreams next to a man who takes my breath away, a rush of thankfulness consumed me. I am thankful for all the wonderful things in my life. Sure I may let the chaos of the day-to-day bog my spirit down every once in a while, but I see no reason for it. After all, I'm living out my fairytale, and for that I must give THANKS.

inspiration

Jack Johnson. Today, he is my inspiration. I think it's partly because his music makes me think of the beach. His words are like waves that pour over me. Similarly, his words take away my stress much like when the tide comes in and goes out leaving me exhilarated and satisfied. Happy and wholesome. Just a little note.

hmm...

I always feel inspired when I'm driving. Why? Is it because I have time to think, time to breathe, time to decompress? Why is it that when I'm alone with my thoughts, free from phones ringing, work to finish, clothes to wash, or a house to clean, I could write a 1000 page dissertation on any given subject. However, today, as I sit and think: I should write something today-- I'm unispired. Lackluster.

On days like today when I seem to find myself in an "existential funk," I find it helpful to identify the feelings I'm experiencing. Today, for example, I feel cynical. Regardless of the reasons leading up to this feeling, that's where I've arrived. Cynicalville.

As an adolescent and even a young adult, I had these silver-lined ideologies that I held true. You know, the fairytale endings, perfect world, love-conquers-all ideologies. Today, however (also, I find it strange that on particularly cynical days I use the word "however" a lot...hah) I feel disillusioned, negative, and borderline hopeless.

Is it possible that along this road called life our pit-stops, also known as life experiences, are the source of our current jaded outlooks? What happened to those feelings of zealous wild-abandon and the yearning to dance in the rain and throw caution to the wind? When it comes to matters of life and love, is experience the enemy?

Would you rather go through life never having experienced real sorrow, real betrayal, real disappointment and retain your happy-go-lucky, everything is going to be okay mentality, or does that same disappointment and pain make the pleasure sweeter?

What would you rather?

realizations

So, I've realized something fairly significant about myself: I'm uneasy unless I have a project on which to focus my attention. If I'm unoccupied with a purpose or task to complete, I become undone at the seams. While in college, although I may have bitched about the obscene amount of work I drudged through, I felt fulfilled because I had a defined and obtainable goal. I knew what I was supposed to do, and I did it. Now, as I've recently slipped into a realm of contentment, I wonder why it is or what it is that produces this sort of inner compulsion.

My husband and I have been, in the last four months and under the direction of a contractor, in the process of remodeling a home from the studs up. Because this sort of activity requires painstaking attention to detail and mountains of time, I've been pleased with these tasks at hand. However, now that the process is nearing the end, (so excited!) I find myself rummaging around in the ol' imagination trying to find my next project. Why? Why can't I just breathe, relax, reboot, and enjoy? The fact that I've realized this trait (or whatever it is) screams NEUROSIS, but oh well. There are worse things to be, I suppose.

So, what's next? I will venture out in my first professional conquest. I'm becoming a realtor.

[I could go off on a tangent here about how in high school counselors should have their asses kicked for not spending more time with students educating them about futuristic choices both educational and vocational, and how not everyone needs a four year degree to become successful, but I guess that's a whole other post entirely. Still, I could've saved my parents a fortune and myself a whole lot of time. Blah.]

I can only hope and believe that this certification and profession will satisfy my hunger, and that I'll be happy in a professional capacity free of the little voice inside encouraging me to jump out there on another limb. Afterall, only two months after obtaining my teaching certificate, I then decided it simply wasn't for me. Will this be it? Stay tuned.

life, in a (sea) shell

Busy doesn't begin to describe the illusive "it!"

Career growth, career misdirection, career overhauling, buying a new house, keeping up with the day-to-day, nurturing a brand-new marriage, balancing family time, and squeezing in a little fun... where's time to focus on me? Now, I guess. I've always thought of writing as therapy, when I actually get to write. I love the feeling that comes with the following scenario: I relax; my remove my shoes; I breathe deeply; I place my fingers on the keyboard, or around a pencil; I close my eyes (always); and I begin to pour my emotions out through my medium. Does this mean I'm an artist? Well, probably not, rather someone who gets an indescribable pleasure and calmness from writing. Writing anything. Writing something.

A funny thing happened to me yesterday. I authored a quote long, long ago and have always kept it about on my different pages i.e. facebook or myspace. Imagine my perplexity when searching around on one of my friend's pages, when I came across the exact same quote that I absolutely knew I'd created. The first thought that darted to the center of my mind was WTF?!?, but after a little reflection, I decided that this was probably flattery in some way, shape, or form. Oh well. If my words (however bizarre they often may seem) can act as inspiration to someone or can set someone's soul vibrating, then so be it. They're just words.

I watched a video this morning that featured one of my former professors lecturing on the vastness of academia, particularly the study of language. Studying English, he said, is in essence the study of all prinicples, because all principles use language to describe the study; whereas, in the English language principle, we describe life through exploring English. Clearly this smacks of existentialism, but there are, I suppose, worse things than admiting that I'm on the search for the meaning of life. If you aren't, then what are you doing? Playing nintendo? HAH!

Weather:

It's raining. It's pouring. La la la la la la.

I want it to go away. I've realized that I'm one of those people who're wholly affected by weather. It's hard to throw a kink in my plans on sunny days, but on a dreary, cold, wet day (which seems to drag on foreverrr) I'm a little tempermental.

This post is seemingly pointless. But one of my daily-resolution-thoughts is to make an evaluation about myself everyday. So, for today, here it is.

St. Valentine:

After watching "Valentine's Day" on Valentine's Day, which was yesterday, I realized something. All singles, women and men alike, despite their moaning and groaning about the ineptitude of the opposite sex, happily cast away those bitter thoughts as soon as Cupid's arrow penetrates their hearts. Because the very nature of V Day is lovely and sentimental, we tend to wear our "heightened sense of awareness" caps that day, willingly and in goodfaith that the one we love will reciprocate our love and sentimentality.

As a recently very happily married gal, I wonder why we don't treat everyday like Valentine's Day? Because love is a rarity, and because it's a shocking, exhilirating, and often (initially) terrifying act, it should be treasured and nurtured and cultivated, never taken for granted, and certainly not given only one calendar day.

Maybe today my resolution will be to --EACH DAY-- devote time and attention to loving wildly and boundlessly. Instead of discussing the daily rigmarole and modern impositions at the end, middle, or beginning of the day, I'll celebrate love and give attention to it's beautiful, albeit fragile, nature.

Undoubtedly men will think I'm being just "being a girl" in all my neuorsis-clad glory, and maybe I am, but so be it!

Today and everyday is a day for LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE.

<3

Bilingualism:

Last night, after drinks with friends, I fell into a whiskey-laden sleep and dreampt that I spoke perfectly fluent Spanish. Much to my dismay, this morning, that is not the case.

Despite studying Spanish for four semesters, I fear that I could barely navigate my way through Seville. Why? Although I devoted what felt like millions of hours to learning this beautiful language, I've lost, or perhaps misplaced, those skills because of unwillingness to routinely practice.

Today, my resolution is to have daily devotional time toward Spanish. We'll see if it sticks.

Salud.

Daily:

Some people have New Year resolutions; I, on the other hand, formulate a new resolution at least once a day. Since my other two blogs were created out of the necessity to satisfy the objectives of a new-age classroom, in this blog, I will focus on only those things about which I have a passion to write.

Because I, and others, have deemed my personality as slightly neurotic, I hope to expell some of those ruminations everyday on these cyberpages.