Telling the Truth

I haven't blogged in a long while about what's been going on (or not going on) in my life.  I have a year and a half of things that I haven't written a single post about.  To be quite honest, I'm not really sure that I want to write about them-- any of them. It's not that I don't want y'all to know what's been going on, or to share any of my adventures and struggles with you.  It's more that I don't want to think about them myself.  It's easier to just ignore them, and let the past be the past, and figure out a way to just start over here and now. 

Except it's not really easier to do that, is it?  I mean, you can't just leave your behind in the past, as Pumba says.  It doesn't work.   It might make things seem easier in the short run, but in the long run?  You have to deal with things, or you don't ever get better.  I've been very consciously not thinking about even the good things in the past eighteen months, because even those are too sad for me to look at closely.  I haven't emailed friends, because I don't want to think about how much I miss them.  Because I don't want to talk about how I feel like there is nothing good going on in my life right now.  Because I don't want to admit how bad things really are, inside. 

All that ignore is not making things better.  I'm not sure that's it making them worse, but it sure isn't helping anything. 

I was talking with my one friend with whom I spend time on a more-or-less regular basis, and she's a bit of a busy-body by her own admission, always trying to fix things for people.  She's had a pretty rough year herself, and we were commiserating over things.  I had no words of wisdom for her, but just a listening ear and sympathy for the struggle.  For me, she had a suggestion:  write. About the feeling of dislocation I'm suffering, about the struggle with being where I don't want to be (in more ways than one), about feeling lost and empty and unproductive and all the things I'm struggling.  But to write about the past year and a half, good and bad.  To tell my story, because to do that I have to face it and (perhaps) work though it.  At least deal with the fact that it exists. 

I'm not at all happy about this suggestion.  Obviously.  Because I don't want to talk about it.  Okay? 

I know, I know.  I hear you.  It's not okay.  I get it.  I'll try. 

For a start, I'm writing this post.  Laying it out there, why I haven't kept in touch or blogged.  It's hard for me to admit that I'm struggling, because I don't want to burden people with my troubles.  I (stupidly) feel like I should be able to deal with my own problems.  I say stupidly because I know darn well that we are called to carry each other's burdens, and that is part of what friends are for.  I expect others to let me help with their burdens (as well as their joys, to be fair), but I'm quite often not willing to return that favour.  I had a friend recently who very pointedly said to me, 'I hope you wouldn't rob your friends of a chance to bless you,' in response to a discussion of homeless and hungry Americans (I said I would be both of those if it weren't for staying with family).  Oh, if only it were so easy for me to see it that way! 

I struggle with that, though.  Am I the only one?  Probably not.  It seems like a very American mindset, the 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' and be all self-sufficient.  It is not, however, a very Christian one.  I'm working on that.  I'm not even sure I want to post this, because it's a bit too raw and honest.  I don't want people to think less of me. 

Seriously?  Yes.  Even though I know full well that y'all, who are my friends, will not think less of me for being honest, or for struggling.  Still I worry.  And keep it inside, to myself.  I know that doesn't make sense;  I know that I am holding myself to an impossible double-standard, and am acting in ways that I would not want my friends to act if they were having hard times of any sort.  So please forgive me, friends, for behaving in ways that actually deny your friendship.  I don't mean to do that;  I am thankful for you, I really am.  It's myself I am fighting with, and I don't know if I'll win this one.  But I will try-- to write, as my friend suggests;  to be more honest about, well, everything; to give you the opportunity to be my friends in the same ways that I want to be your friends-- and to let you, if you're willing, to help me carry my burdens, and give you the opportunity to bless me.  Because, honestly, I know that works both ways.  I just forget sometimes. 

My Friendship Fears

I almost skipped church on Sunday.  I really wanted to.  I was being lazy, and wanted to stay in bed instead of get up, get ready and get going.  I tried to convince myself that it would be fine to skip, to worship at the Church of the Holy Comforter (except that I have quilts, instead) because, after all, I'd been to church pretty regularly lately.  Everyone deserves a day off, I reasoned. 

I was not convinced. 

Eventually, I did get up, get ready and get going, and got there ten minutes late (which, to be fair, is pretty good for me).  I wasn't terribly happy about it, but I was there, for whatever reason.  I suppose it was reason enough that I couldn't talk myself into any truly good excuses for staying home that day.  I like the church I've been attending when I'm in town, for its mission and its heart for Jesus and people (if not so much for its contemporary service.  It's well done, mind, but I'm truly a traditionalist at heart.), and I know a few people from my growing-up years who attend there--as well as a few new friends from this return time. 

So there I sat, mind not really on the sermon (about eternal life, and actually a pretty good one).  I was just letting my eyes wander around, to see who I could see.  I hadn't spotted 'my' people on my way in late, so I was sitting on my own, which I don't mind at all.  I always hope it'll mean I meet new people, but rarely do people actually speak to me.  Not that they're rude-- but never mind;  that's another story for another time.  As my eyes wandered over the backs of heads, I noticed someone in the front row.  Sitting next to a couple my parents' age.  With whom I went to church growing up, and was involved in Chrysalis and Emmaus with them and their youngest daughter.

I thought it must be a coincidence.  And then she turned her head, and I perked right up as I recognised her for certain-- it was their youngest daughter, a friend of mine who I had not seen in easily a decade!  Actually, it's probably been longer than that-- more like fifteen years.  I was so excited, and couldn't wait for the service to be over so I could go up and speak with her.  I had visited with her parents several times at church, which is always a joy, and had asked after her.  But I hadn't expected to actually get a chance to catch up with her! 

Then, as I sat there, trying to listen to the sermon and waiting for the end of the service, I started to worry.  Maybe I shouldn't go up to her.  Maybe I should just leave, and if I ran into her and her family, then fine.  Maybe I shouldn't seek her out.  Because what if she doesn't remember me?  What if she hasn't thought about me at all in those intervening years?  What if she's not interested in catching up?  What if I like her more than she likes me, and she doesn't care if she sees me or not?  What if? 

See, I do this to myself a lot.  I always worry, when I haven't been in touch with someone or haven't seen them for a long time, even if we've kept in touch.  I always worry that it's going to be horribly awkward, that they haven't missed me as much as I've missed them (or at all), and that they might not even really remember me or care that much to be reacquainted, sometimes despite what they might say beforehand.  Friends who have moved away say, 'Come visit!' And I say, 'I'll try,' but what I mean is, 'I think you're just being polite and don't really want to see me, so I'll politely agree to try and visit but not work very hard at it, just in case.'  Because I would hate to actually show up and have things go badly.  I'd rather not go up to my friend for a catch-up after all this time in case it's not what I'd like it to be and instead it is what I'm afraid it will be. 

In all these cases, I struggle with the fear of rejection, or at least with the fear of being a non-entity.  Even worse than a blatant rejection, I think, would be polite disinterest or a blank nothingness.  Would I rather stay alone and keep my memories of the friendship past than risk finding out there's absolute emptiness in the relationship now?  Yes, often I think I would. 

And yet that never, ever happens.  I have never yet had a situation where the person I wanted to see wasn't also delighted to see me.  Sometimes it's a little awkward, if we haven't seen each other for a very long time, as we relearn how to be in the same physical space-- but more often than not, it's just like no time has passed at all.  And still I'm always surprised that they are as obviously overjoyed to be with me again as I am to be with them.  Always. 

Why is that?  Why do I seem to always forget the evidence of past experiences, of friendships in general, and instead revert to the fear that I am nothing, nobody, not worth remembering or missing?  Am I the only one who struggles with this?  Or are we all struggling to remember that we are worthy, that people love us, that those we miss are missing us, as well?  I think for me, it comes down to what my head knows but my heart forgets.  It happens to me not just with human relationships, but in my relationship with God, as well.  I know with my brain that God loves me, despite my sins and flaws.  I know that it is God's grace that enables me to live and love better than I would otherwise be capable, that offers me forgiveness and a chance to try again when I fail, and that encircles and infuses my relationships with that same love and grace.  I know these things with my mind--but I all too often forget them with my heart.  Which means that, instead of trusting God and the grace, love and mercy he wants to shower me with daily, I instead turn to fear and worry--especially in my other relationships.  And in turn, I lose sight of the fact that friendships by definition require more than just one person--more than just myself.  Simply because I have called people friends, the chances are far better than I give them credit for that they feel about me the same way I feel about them. 

I just tend to forget that part.  Despite the fact that I am always reminded of its truth.  Like this past Sunday, when I finally gathered my things after church and walked up to catch my friend.  I hesitated, then tapped her on the shoulder.  She turned around, saw me, and we both just beamed.  Big hugs were shared, introductions made to her wee man, and quick catch ups on life were exchanged.  It was so great, for both of us, I think.  Life moves on, people come and go--but real friendships do stand the test of time.  I know that, and Sunday reminded me, yet again, to believe it. 

I can't assure you that I won't still struggle with this.  I can't promise that I'll not be nervous about seeing you again after a long absence.  I can't even be sure that I'll be any better about keeping in touch--especially about getting back in touch, when I've been out of touch for so long.  But I can assure you that it's because I care about you and think so highly of your friendship that I am hesitant, as stupid as that undoubtedly is.  I can promise that I'll try, and that I will make a concerted effort to get back in touch (through email, phone calls or letters).  Because I do miss you, my friends.  I'm just fighting the fear.  

Acknowledgements

Many of you will have already received this as an email, but I wanted to share it with everyone else who I don't necessary have addresses for.  I passed my viva, with minor corrections-- which means I have a couple of things the examiners want me to do before they say it's officially done.  I have til 1 January to get them done, but they will be done before then.  I'm not sure yet whether or not I'll be able to do the graduation ceremony in November (stupid univeristy contradictory rules), but either way, I'm practically done already.  

Doing a PhD is not something that anyone can really understand, unless you've been through it.  I can't explain what it's like, how horribly difficult a long, long slog it is, with moments of amazement, gratification and joy.  Even being done is not all happiness and light-- but I am proud of myself, and glad to have reached this point.  These are the acknowledgements printed in my thesis, and I want to share them with you.  Please find yourself in their lines, and thank you.  

Acknowledgements

Although I am passionate about this topic, and it has grown largely out of my whole life experiences, it has been the case more often than not that I despaired of ever finishing this thesis. The fact that I have made it to this point means there are several people who deserve recognition of my undying gratitude.

Thank you, God. There is absolutely no way this would ever have happened if it weren't for You. Everything good in it is praise to You; anything not good is down to me.

To the Theologicans, past and present, your support and fellowship on this long, dark road is most appreciated. I can't wait to celebrate with all of you, as well. You know who you are....

Thank you especially to Carolyn, Barb, and Lynch. More than most, you have been exactly what I needed at exactly the right time. I have no doubt that you were God-sent to me, and my life would be far less without you in it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

To my friends on both sides of the Atlantic and, indeed, around the globe, thank you for encouragement, conversation, interest in my life and my research, and Facebook fun. Wherever I am, you will always be welcome.

To my family, thank you for your part in making me who I am. That is part of what has brought me to this point. Especially to my sister, Jennifer Balazadeh, thank you for having the two best children in the whole entire world, so that I can be Cool Auntie Amie.

To Brian Brock, my supervisor—thank you for knowing those things I didn't even know I didn't know about the process and the system, for encouraging me in the worst times, and for getting me to this point. If there were times you thought I wouldn't make it, you never said it, and I appreciate that. I thought it enough myself. I know how truly I have been blessed to have a supervisor about whom I have no complaints.

To Kenny Thom, my long-suffering and very gracious flatmate, I would not have made it in Aberdeen for very long if it weren't for you. You have become like family, and have been better to me than I deserve in more ways that I can name, and I owe you far more than I could ever repay. Thank you.

To the families who have taken me in and loved me like family, you have saved my life—or at least my sanity. To the Cornells, the Kelly-Johnstons and the Beckers particularly, you and your children have made my heart glad when everything else felt miserable. Thank you, and I love y'all.

To my church family at Crown Terrace Methodist, thank you for always remembering me, being interested in me, and loving me--whenever I happened to show up.  Thank you for being the friendliest church family ever. 

To the Aberdeen Book Club, over the years-- there were times when you were my only and best social interaction, and I thank you so much for the friendship and the chance to read good books together.  You've helped form me in my years here, both by the books you chose and your time with me.  Thank you. 

To the coffee growers and cafés, the chocolatiers and wineries of the world, thank you. Without you, I would not have made it through.  Zeste, especially, thank you for your customer service with a scowl.  

To all 'my' kiddos—Machias and Semiah, especially—it is largely for you I have done this. I hope it is worth something. You are the best things in my world, and I love you more than I can possibly express.

Finally, to the men in my life who have helped me become the person I am today: Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, Charles Wallace Murray, Will Stanton, Merriman Lyon, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and, especially, Aslan.

Flyicide

Bzzzzzzzz...splat!

This was my life for about two weeks.  Suddenly, there were dozens of huge, fat, slow black flies in our lounge windows.  Sometimes they were in our kitchen window, as well, but mostly it was the lounge.  No clue where they were coming from.  I even stuffed the chimney full of newspaper, as Kenny thought that was where they were coming from.  Didn't help.  At the time, I was in the lounge a lot as I was feverishly finishing the thesis.  Or working on it, anyway.  I was already stressed.  It didn't help that these flies were making me even more twitchy.  I was cursing and couldn't sit still... they were making me mad.  Crazy.  Insane.

We didn't have a flyswat, either.  Just a rolled up pieces of newspaper.  And lots of smears of dead flies on the windows.  And carasses on the floor.  I swept up dozens every day, from my murderous rampages.  I couldn't help it.  It was justifiable flyicide, I swear.

We found out months later that it was because there were dead pigeons in the gutters around the flat above us.  Did they get in through the lack of skirting board?  I don't know, but that's what I suspect.  Cos they weren't getting in the chimney, once I blocked it up.  Still, they eventually died out.  Thank God.  I couldn't take much more.

Catching Up

Over the next few days, I'll try to post about all the things that have happened in the past five months or so.  There have been a lot, but I just haven't taken the time out to share them here.  Partly that was due to the fact that I was pushing to get done with my thesis, and I just didn't take time out for much of anything.  Since submitting, it's been due to my brain being mush and me not wanting to look at the computer for long enough to compose even a short post.  However, I have nothing better to do now, so I'll get back to it.  =)

I won't be putting pictures in very often, because I don't have them on my computer.  They have been uploaded various places, burned to cd, and deleted from my hard drive.  I will put links to where they are in my Shutterfly share site-- All Around Amie.  If you can't access it, let me know and I'll make sure you get an invite from that site itself.  When it gets to a point in time where I have photos on my lappy, I'll put them in again. 

Onward and backward!  =D

I'm Sensing a Theme...

Oooh, thanks, Aleithia! I love coffee.  But wait a minute... why do I get the 'boozey' one?  What are you saying?

Yes, it's vodka... but it's Birthday Cake Flavour!!

Oooh, Liz!  Thanks!  I love Lush goodies... but hold on a sec.  Are you trying to tell me something?

Oh, c'mon!  It's only one!

But I didn't HAVE all 30...

That's only six.  I can even remember what flavours they are:  strawberry, bakewell tart, pineapple & mango, parma violet, cola cube, and ice cream.  See?  I'm not THAT big a drunk. 

Oh.  Right.  I think the other six were milky bar, cherry, birthday cake, pear drop, lemon & lime, and... um... rhubarb & custard.  Yeah.  That's them.  And it's not like I was drinking alone...

Y'all were there, too. Thanks for suffering through the flavours of vodka shots on my Cinco de Drinko Birthday!   And for the 'themed' gifts.  =D

Crocs' Epic Fail

I love Crocs.  I really, really do.  Ever since my mom bought me my first pair four years ago, I've worn one pair or another pretty much every day.  Largely it's been the Endeavour (the closed version of the original), but in the past two years I've branched out: Troika, Alice, Celeste, Mammoth,Gretel... and I love them.  However, the Lily-- never again.  Most uncomfortable shoes ever.

I've tried them with hose, with socks, with tights, with bare feet... nothing helps.  They. Are.  Rubbish. 

Blech.  Don't buy these.  Buy pretty much any other, but these. 

The Rising Age of Retirement

Poor guy.  He's had it tough.  Working day and night, for at least fifteen years now.  Putting up with moving, travelling, illness, emotional instability, physical manipulation.... He had a couple of years where the going was easy-- two newer guys took over the heavy lifting for a while.  But he's been back on the job full full-time now for a year and a half.  He doesn't complain;  he just does what he does best.  He's gotten grey, and quite a bit worn down, but that only makes him better at what he does.  It would be fair to let him retire, to enjoy some peace and quiet, to not work him to pieces and run him into the ground.  But when is that going to happen?  I don't know. 

I just can't seem to let him go. He's been with me through too much, and he's the only one who is always there for me.  He's my Velveteen Rabbit, even though he's... 

Bear. 

That's him on the right, obviously.  Buster is ready and willing to take over for him, but I'm not ready.  I got Bear as a Christmas gift in high school-- sophmore year, I think-- and he's been with me every since.  Everywhere I've gone.  Everything I've gone through.  He's been cried on more times that I can possible say;  he's been drooled on in my sleep, I'm sure;  he's gotten snotty when I've been sick;  he's had more germs coughed on him that I care to think about;  he's traveled to foreign lands--as visitors and as residents;  he's been my pillow when I've not had a real one;  he's my comfort and cuddler every night. 

I realise admitting all it even more painfully obvious that I am a total dork.  But heck, I don't care.  I love him, and he's been good to me.  So what if I'm nearly 35, and still sleep with a stuffed bear?  I don't see a problem with it.

Anyway.  I love my bear.  He's losing the lining of his ears and feet-- which will soon start leaking stuffing.  His nose is rubbed down to the bare plastic.  He used to be white.  Seriously.  And he's been a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a cuddle when I need one, a bit of home wherever I am.  I know I should let him rest, on a shelf nearby, watching over me.  I should let Buster or someone else take over.  But I can't.  I'm not ready to let him go.  He's a part of me, and I know that he'll one day be a Real Bear... but I'm selfish enough to want to keep him a while longer. He's real enough to me already. 

How I Spent My Lenten 40 Days

I meant to write this ages ago, and just never got around to it.  The story of my life right now.  Anyway.  Here's what I did for Lent.

I gave up tv. 

NO, not completely.  That would be akin to emotional suicide, as I need my tv to distract me occasionally and keep me sane.  I did give it up largely, though. I allowed myself one show a day, unless I had gotten a huge amount done on my thesis that day.  And whatever day each week was my 'day off' (usually Saturdays so I could watch the rugby), I allowed myself whatever tv I wanted to watch.  But largely, I gave up watching tv so that I could focus more on my thesis.  Take away my main distraction, and viola!  Or so I thought. 

It did work pretty well, actually.  It's just there's always something to distract me.  If it's not tv, it's stressing over my visa situation.  Or staring off into space.  Or doing housework.  Whatever.  I had hoped that I would have my draft ready-steady-go by Easter... but not quite.  It didn't go to plan that way, but I'm close.  I just get stressed about other things, on top of already being stressed about my thesis, and my focus disappears.  And my motivation disappears.  And my moods drop through the floor.  And my sleeping isn't restful.  And on and on and on. 

And yet, I am making progress.  And I've cut down the number of shows I follow.  ;) 

The other thing I did during Lent was to read a Psalm every morning before I even got out of bed.  I already read my Bible at night as part of my bedtime routine, but adding it in the morning as well has been something new for me.  It's been a good change, though, and I'm going to keep it up.  Just read one a morning, and when I've read all of them, start over.  More time in the Word can't be a bad thing. 

So really, for Lent, instead of giving up things... I added things.  More work on my thesis.  More time reading Scripture.  Other years, I've written a letter a day to friends or families.  Why do I give myself more to do, rather than the traditional 'giving up stuff' for Lent?  Because they way I see it, the purpose of Lent is to prepare my heart for Easter.  To re-evaluate my life, to repent and seek reconciliation, to draw closer to God and others.  So.  If that's the goal, then just giving up chocolate or coffee or whatever isn't necessarily getting me any closer to those goals.  If I do give something up, like fasting during the day, then I should be using the time I would have been eating to pray or read Scripture or something else towards the ultimate goal of preparing for Easter.  When I take something up, like reading Scripture, then I don't feel the need to trade that out for something else. 

This year, because I feel like my thesis is God-inspired and my calling right now, working on it and getting it done is part of my spiritual journey, one way I am yearning to draw closer to God.  Largely because it won't get done if God doesn't work in me, I decided that focusing on it even more specifically than I might normally was the best way I could honour God and prepare myself for Easter.  Did it work?  Yes, I think so.  Even though I didn't quite get finished.  God knows I'm trying.  =)

Not a Laughing Matter

(I wrote this for something else, so please forgive the lack of caps.  I know some of you have heard this before from me, but I can't help it.  It's still an issue, and it's still close to my heart.)

i am not all that political.  i am glad to have the freedom to vote and have an opinion, but i don't get very caught up in it all, either locally, nationally or internationally.

i am, however, very opinionated about how people are treated.  especially when it is completely unfair.

i also know that a lot of people will think that this makes me political.  it doesn't.  i'm not anti-anyone-- i'm pro-everyone.  i just think that all people have the right to live and work and love, and to do so in a manner that is not in constant fear or under constant threat.

what made me so mad today was the stupid young undergrads in a class i'm taking notes for.  it's a class on the history of the middle east and all the conflicts there.  i actually am really glad to be in this class.  i have been to israel and the palestinian territories, twice.  i know people who live and work in various parts of the entire region.  i love the history, the culture, the food, the people-- arabs, jews, christians, muslims, all of them.  it is fascinating to me, and i would love to live there some day.  i also took classes in university from a rabbi-- both bible classes and classes on the holocaust.  i am not ignorant of what has been done to jewish people... but neither am i ignorant of what they have done to others.

today in this class, we were talking about the history of the conflict between israelis and palestinians, going back to the 1930s.  it has been a difficult situation for a long time, and neither side is blameless.  for the second half of the class, we watched the first half of a film called 'paradise now' about two young men from nablus, following their journey in becoming suicide bombers.  i don't know how it's going to end yet.

first off, the film is filmed in nablus.  having spent time in the west bank, and really wanting to go back, it actually made me a little homesick, which is funny because it's never been 'home' yet.  also, having spent time there with friends who have family living there, as well as having spent a summer term at hebrew university of jerusalem, i have experienced both sides-- and now i've studied the history of both sides.  this film, seeing these two young men struggle with very limited options, trying to decide what they can do, how they can make a difference for their family, their people, their land... it was heartbreaking.  at many points, i had tears streaming down my face.

and the kids behind me were giggling.  laughing.  ridiculing.  i was furious.  but i just had to sit there.

i want to be clear:  i do not support or approve of violence on either side, whether state sanctioned (israel) or revolutionary (many arabs).  i. do. not. think. violence. solves. anything. or. is. ever. the. answer.  EVER.

that being said, i do understand why many oppressed people around the globe feel that violence is their only option.  i have seen myself what life is like, and how intolerable it can be, when you are the oppressed and occupied people.  one person's terrorist is another's freedom fighter.  israel itself used the very same tactics to claim their statehood-- and are every bit as violent and oppressive towards their arab neighbours as they suffered under the nazis.

how is that fair?  how is that right?  it's not. and it's no laughing matter.

i know that there are no easy solutions, and that violence begets violence, and everyone has claims, and all that.  but i get angry anyway.

Sucker for 10s

We played so well.  And yet we lost.  It's heart-breaking, though nothing compared to a fortnight ago.  And now I have another fortnight to wait.  In the meantime, I thought I'd share something with you.

Sorry-- I'm talking about rugby again.  The 6 Nations.  In case you were confused.  

I have to confess, I can't but help play favourites.  I love all my Scotland boys, no doubt.  They all have a special, special place in my heart.

Even so, I can't help it.  I love a good fly-half.  I love to watch them kick and run and tackle... they can generally do it all.  And dang.  Just look at this!

 James Hook, of Wales, courtesy of the bbc.

Ronan O'Gara, of Ireland, courtesy of the bbc.

Today's Irish hero, Johnathan Sexton, courtesy of Sky Sports.

Jonny Wilkinson.  England.  Oh boy.  I know I'm not supposed to cheer for them, but dang.  From the RBS 6 Nations.

Chris Paterson, our most amazing kicker.  Sadly, he's out with an injury for the rest of the 6 Nations.  From the Daily Mail.

And Dan Parks, our very animated play-maker.  I love it when this guy is on the pitch.  Again from the Daily Mail.

And just to round things out, my boys:

I Am One... Are You?

Caring for Your Introvert - Magazine - The Atlantic

This is seriously the most awesome article I've ever read about myself. I laughed out loud a few times, and nodded my head to nearly every point. Preach it, Jonathan!

I'd love to hear what y'all think, introverts and extroverts alike....

A Sucker for Giveaways

I know this is random, but it's also true.

I am a sucker for giveaways.  Especially when they are giving away things with something I already like to buy.

Take McDonalds, for instance.  I'm already a sucker for their Monopoly Game, which is pretty much the only time all year I eat there more than once in any six weeks period.  So when they came out with these babies, in six different colours, I was hooked.

Paige was the first to discover them, and introduced Liz and I to them.  So a couple more times, I went to McDs to get some.  Sadly, in the UK, McD's has not yet figured out how to really get people into the store on these promotions.  They only offered them for two weeks.  In the States, it would be one colour only each week for six weeks.  That way people come back.  More often.  Not so here.  Two weeks and they were gone.  And you could get lucky and get different colours in the same week.  Or, if you were Paige, if you asked nicely because you already had that colour.

Oh well.  I got three:  green, purple and brown.  I think they are cool.  But then, I'm a sucker.  =D

Random Thoughts

Mrs.4444 over at Half-Past Kissing Time hosts Friday Fragments every week, a chance to get out of your system all those little bits and pieces that don't really fit anywhere else.  Here's mine this week. 

~ I like the snow.  I know most of the people I know would not agree, but I sure do hope it sticks around for a while.  Like, all winter.  It sure beats the rain and wind we usually get for winter here.

~ I had to laugh on the train down to Stirling last night.  As I was sitting there, listening to random songs on my iPod, watching the snowy landscape outside (when I could see it, that is-- it was dark), who suddenly sounded in my ears but the Beach Boys.  Quite the juxtaposition. 

~ Listening to the Beach Boys made me miss Opryland.  I miss Opryland a lot, even though I don't live in Nashville anymore.  It was a big part of my childhood and teenage years, and it's a loss that I may never recover from.  It was 'Little Deuce Coupe' that triggered that one. 

~ I somehow managed to get bumped to First Class on the train last night.  I had no idea til I sat down in my assigned seat and noticed I had twice the space as usual.  And that the doors into the compartment closed, to keep out more of the freezing air every time the outer doors opened at a stop.  Bonus!  On the down side, I was seated across the aisle from three middle aged men who went through 8 Stellas and nearly a case of Tennants in the two hours I was on the train.  Yikes. 

~ Why does postage have to be so dang expensive?!  I just finally got my Christmas gifts sent home to people.  It cost me more than half a month's rent.  That is just ridiculous.  Especially when it's not just one person I have to send things to internationally-- it's the majority.  And I don't just send stuff at Christmas-- I send it thorughout the year, at least to my nephew and niece and sister.  So I'm hoping for some reciprocation here, or I'm never posting parcels again. 

~ I am aching in every muscle and joint I have, and even some I didn't know I had.  All from dragging my suitcase full of books and food goodies (because I mentioned how much I spent on shipping, right?) on the slippery slidey pavements to the train station in Aberdeen.  Getting from Stirling train station out to Alva wasn't so bad, but the damage was already done.  It's nearly impossible to get a case back up on the pavement from the street over the curb when it's heavy and everything is slippy.  The case stayed in place. I was walking, but not getting anywhere.  Finally, one big heave-ho and it jumped the curb.  Whew.  Only had to do that about a dozen times.  Not to mention the frozen cobbles and bricks in Castlegate... ouch. 

~ I have nearly fallen three times now.  And have managed to stay on my feet all three times.  Touch wood, that trend keeps up. 

~ I am sad this week.  No particular reason, I guess.  I just am. 

~ If I manage to graduate this summer, who is going to come over and see it? 

Countdown to Extinction

Okay, so it's not exactly extinction... it's just regeneration.  Which amounts to the same feeling in my poor heart. 

I can't wait for the next episode-- Christmas!  And yet, I'm not at all ready for it...

Just when I finally stop guarding my heart and fall head over heels... just when I realise that I am totally in love... just when I give in and let myself go...

Oh, Doctor.  Why do you do this to me?  I resisted for so long, Ten.  So, so long.  Because it broke my heart when Nine regenerated after such a short time.  My poor, poor heart.  But you.  You've been chipping away at my resolve with your personality and your good looks and your charisma and your cheekiness and your crazy hair, and you wore me down.  Won me over.  Stole my heart. 

And now?  Where does this leave me now, knowing that you are abandoning me so soon?  How can you do this to me?  It's not fair.  It's not right.  It's the beginning of the end....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-AW_IFHyUc   :for those of you who are reading this through Facebook and can't see the embedded video. 

*sigh*

Living Up To My Name

In case you haven't noticed, I have been a total slacker for quite a while now.  My friend Becky, of The Holloway Clan, gave me this award (and challenge) back in July... so I'm finally getting around to it.  I love reading her blog, about life in the City of Brotherly Love, as a working mum to three beautiful kids, and just reflections on life in general.  Please check her out-- you won't regret it! 

Here's what you have to do: First, you have to tell your readers 10 things about you they may not already know, but are true. Second, you have to tag 10 people with the award. Third, you have to let the people you've given the award to, know that they've received this award from you. Finally, make sure you link back to the person who awarded you.

Trying to think of ten things most of my readers might not know is actually harder than it seems, because most of you are people who actually know me, and have known me for a while.  But here goes anyway.

1.  I am not easily angered, but I am easily annoyed.  Some of you may have known this for a long time, but it's just recently come to my own attention.  I get frustrated with little things, vent about it, fume a few minutes, and then it's over.  I think this can make some people a little annoyed with me, but I think it's better than having a bad temper.  It takes a lot to get me really angry;  I think easily annoyed is much better than easily angered.  I hope so, anyway... 

2.  I am a huge Beatles fan.  I can remember singing along as a kid while my dad played Beatles songs on his guitar;  I got through junior high by playing through album after album on my record player while I did my homework;  and I saw Paul McCartney in concert--twice--in one year.  I. Love. The. Beatles.  I have a couple of friends with whom I bonded largely over the Beatles.  One year for Hallowe'en, my best friend and I dressed up as Ringo (she was a drummer) and Paul (my favourite Beatle).  I wear my watch on my right hand because I noticed (also in junior high) that Paul did.  I could give up every other kind of music, as long as I could keep theirs.  *sigh*  I've often thought I was born too late.... =)

3.  I think I am a big city girl, which is strange, since I didn't grow up in a big city.  I love living in the middle of it all.  I've discovered this about myself living in Aberdeen, and visiting other big cities (Paris, Vladimir, Ramallah, Edinburgh, London...).  I either want to be right in the thick of it, or in the middle of nowhere (but with a car to be able to get into the city). 

4.  I have to write things down or I'll forget them.  This isn't about getting old, and it's not a recent development-- I've been this way as long as I can remember.  Whether it's phone numbers or class notes or birthdays or shopping lists, if I don't write it down, it might as well not exist.  That's me: list-maker.

5.  Speaking of writing things down, I love my penmanship.  Perhaps that is conceited, but it's true.  I have very readable handwriting, and it can be very lovely.  I would love to learn calligraphy, but even if I never do, I'll still be happy with my writing.  I have, for as long as I've known how to write, been changing and perfecting it, to make it exactly like I want it (which is, these days, in an 'old-fashioned' style). 

6.  I will nearly always root for the underdog. 

7.  Even though I am a big city girl, I am, at the same time, a homebody.  Is that a contradiction or what?!  Seriously, though, I could quite happily stay in for days at a time... and I have.  As long as I have food and drink, a good book, some dvds, and my computer, I am quite happy.  =)

8.  I hate romantic comedies and most chic-flicks.  I don't buy the argument that they are the modern equivalent of fairy tales;  for me, they are deceitful and give too many girls too many unrealistic expectations of relationships.  I just don't find them fun typically-- I get annoyed, or disgusted, or just plain sad at the characters and the lives they promote.  There is an odd one that I don't mind, but I'd prefer a good horror film anyday. 

9.  I don't know what I think about ghosts and paranormal stuff, but I love it.  Whatever it is, there is more out there than we can see or understand, and I. Love. It.  Ghost stories, scary films, Hallowe'en, all of it.  If it's creepy, I'll take it.  ;)

10.  I often wonder if I'm too selfishly independent to be any good in a relationship any more.  Part of me really wants to be married and have kids and all that eventually, but mostly I am quite happy to be single right now and doing what I'm doing.  Eating what I want and when I want, spending what I want on what I want, going where I want without having to take anyone else into consideration... I'm loving being a singleton thirty-something gal!  So, I think it'd take some pretty amazing guy to make me actually give this up... or pretty amazing in putting up with me despite it all. 

Right.  So there you have it.  Here are my ten tags:
Amanda at the front lawn
Barb at Barb's Wire
Dan and Nancy Erickson
Amy at Everyday in Atlanta G-A
Heidi at Farmyard Tales
Maggie at It's Good To Want Things
Abson and Lara at Joseph's Journal
Jen at Learning to Adjust
Paige at pMed's WeeBlog
Jody at the stay-at-home apologist

And anyone else who wants to take the award and play by the rules, please do! 

Friday Fragments

Mrs4444 does Friday Fragments every week, and always invites people to join in. I thought I'd finally take her up on that. So here are mine for this week... and check out hers, and the other links!


-- What is the point of washing dishes if you don't rinse them? I hate doing the dishes, but I don't want to use the dishes my flatmate washes (though I very much appreciate that he does wash them). It's a very British thing, apparently, to fill the sink with soapy water, wash the dishes, and then set them on the rack to let the soap slide off. Seriously? The soap just dries on the dishes, people, and you end up with soapy coffee the next day. I don't get it.

-- Statistics say we wear 20% of our wardrobe 80% of the time. What would happen if we were to cut out that 80%? Would we then wear 20% of our significantly smaller wardrobe?

-- I hate ironing, and put it off til the very last minute. That means that about 50% of my wardrobe (well over my 20% from the previous statistic) now needs to be ironed before it can go back in rotation. I wonder what that does to the statistics....

-- I am quite proud of myself for resisting the latest time-sucking distraction on Facebook, even though all my friends are playing it and inviting me. I have enough things on there to keep me from doing what I should be doing. I don't need Mafia Wars to add to that (sorry, friends!).

--Apparently, I have my own line of skin care products. I was quite pleased to see them in Boots, and I have since bought them. Granted, they are 'purely for young skin', and my skin isn't exactly young, but... they have actually worked better on my very aggrivating combination skin than anything else I've found. And no, this isn't an advert. I'm just saying.


-- I have mixed feelings about anti-depressants. On the one hand, being told that I should take them makes me feel more depressed, ironically. On the other hand, anything that is going to help me get back to my normal self can't be bad. Right?

Three Words: Fab. U. Lous!

At least, my sister thinks I am. She gave me this. And I'm sure it's for more reason than just because she doesn't read many other blogs she could award this to...


In order to claim this, there are two requirements. First, list five things I am addicted to. That's easy.

1. Coffee: decaf, regular, flavoured, whatever. Anything but instant (although the Waitrose brand I enjoyed daily in London with Lara was not half bad, for instant).

2. Facebook: games, photos, and chatting. I love it, and can't stay away. It's about the only way I keep in touch with anyone these days, and there are folks popping up that I haven't heard from in years! It's amazing. I love it.

3. TV: it's true. I'm a tvaholic. Crime shows, films, US shows, British shows, sci-fi, comedy... whatever it is, I"ll watch it. It's my veg-out time, it keeps me company during meals, it's my best friend. Sadly.

4. Cinema: I haven't been much lately, but I. Love. My. Unlimited. Cinema. Card. In case I haven't mentioned that lately.

5. Crocs: I brought back five pair from my extended US holiday. I wear them every single day. Some styles are more comfortable than others, but heck. I love 'em. I don't care if people think they look stupid. I love them. And my feet are comfy. And warm. And colourful. =D

The second requirement is to pass this along-- to five people. So I hereby declare the following blogs are, likewise, fabulous.

1. Dan and Nancy Erickson
2. Maggie
3. The Holloway Clan
4. Jill, at Learning Something New
5. Amanda, at The Front Lawn

Thanks, Jen!

Slacker

Yes, that's me. I'm so far behind on my once-a-week quota... I'm hoping all those extra ones I posted (like one-a-day a while back) will help some. ;) Seriously-- life is just too busy for me to stop and post just now. And by the time life slows down, I'm too tired to post!

Why is life so busy, you ask? Well, I'm at my sister's-- which means near-constant 'cool auntie' duties towards my nephew and niece. Not that I'm complaining. No sirree! I'm having a ball. And I have stuff to talk about... just not right now. We have to get up early tomorrow to catch a train into the city. To hang out in Millennium Park, and to pick up the Funkee Unkee at the airport, and to meet Saum for dinner before catching the train back home tomorrow evening. Whew!

To be honest, I could have spent the past weekend writing posts and stuff. Everyone else was out of town. But I didn't. I spent it chatting with Barb. And cleaning the house (oh boy did it need it!). And a little studying. Oh, and watching season one of the new Doctor Who on Netflix On Demand.

I told you I was a slacker. =)

Ten Random Things About Me

I got tagged by my friend Amy, over at Yuwie... and I'm finally getting around to this. These are just ten random facts... some more random than others, and you may or may not already know them about me, depending on how well you know me. =)


1. There have been times when I have gone without watching tv at all-- much of college, for instance. And if I were living on my own, I doubt I would pay for one here. But thanks to Kenny, I am currently a TV addict. I watch, on average, four hours a day, I would guess. Of course, 'watch' is a loose term, because I am almost always doing something else at the same time-- sometimes it's something productive, like ironing, and other times, it's online. Right now, for instance, I'm watching a CSI rerun. =)

2. That said, I hate reality tv generally. Well, the ones that aren't based on some kind of talent, anyway. I love Strictly Come Dancing, and Dancing On Ice; I'll watch American Idol to be able to talk about it with my sister. But Big Brother and all the other kinds... no thank you! A waste of tv, in my opinion. Give me a good story anyday.

3. I firmly believe that my Unlimited Cinema card is the best investment I've made recently. Or perhaps in my entire life. It's kept me sane, and brought me joy, and gotten me out of my flat, and given me a reason to live. Okay, that last one is a bit of an exaggeration. But it really is the best money I've spent while I've been here, and I don't know how I would have survived without it. I bet I average two films a week-- and that's including the months I'm in the States and can't use it! I go to a lot of films. And love it!

4. And speaking of films, I really do not like romantic comedies and most 'chic flicks'. There are a few that I like, but more often than not they make me mad, or sad, or disgusted-- something other than happy, that is. Give me action, or comedy, or kids films any day.

5. Coffee is my life. I live off the stuff, and would probably die without it.

6. I love my life in Scotland. It's the first place I've ever felt, well, content with myself. Like I know who I am, as myself and not as how anyone expects me to be or I think they expect me to be. Here, for the first time, I've been happy being single and independent; I am self-confident (except for the thesis, at times) and self-assured; I know who I am, and am able to shape myself into who I want to be. Just as me. Not as any other role or relationship or expectation. Coming here has been the most difficult but also the best thing I have ever done.

7. Following on from that, I sometimes wonder (and by 'wonder' I mean 'worry') that because of how much I love my life now, and how used to being independent I am, that I'll be a terrible girlfriend or wife (if that ever happens). I am too used to not having to really worry about anyone but myself, making my own plans and just doing my thing. Not that I don't think about other people; I do. I have friends, and I have Kenny, and things like that. But I don't have to share My Life with them in the same way I would in a dating relationship. It makes me nervous, at times, because I'd like to be married some day. I'm just not sure I'll be any good at it anymore.

8. I love my nephew and niece, and would do anything for them. Like go broke spending money on plane tickets to visit them. And then having to live on rice and beans for months. But dang, they are worth it!

9. I have a lot of little pet peeves. But the thing that I can't stand, probably more than anything else, is ignorance. Not the kind of ignorance that comes from not having opportunities to be educated, but the kind of willful ignorance that keeps people narrow-minded and small. I see this way too often, and it really angers me. I guess I could say that my prejudice is against people who are prejudiced. That's the kind of ignorance I can't stand. Thinking your way is the only way, and not bothering to see other people's side of things-- whatever the issue might be.

10. It's almost 2pm, and I'm still in my pyjamas. This is a regular occurrence for me. Ah, the joys of being a PhD student! =)


So, those are my deep, random thoughts for the day. Maybe you learned something about me-- maybe this just confirms that I am totally a dork. But that's okay. I knew that already. I've come to terms with it. =D