But I'm not going to apologize. I'm not even sorry. It's not like anyone's reading this anyway.
I got my exam results....
....and.....
I passed! But it's kind of bittersweet. Like I've mentioned before, I have been getting a little nostalgic for my former foreign residency, so much so that... I'll admit it, I started looking at the job ads. I debated ordering the transcripts and going to get fingerprinted, but I didn't.
And I'm mostly glad for that. Though I still do have to get my fingerprints taken, now they'll be taken for the State Board of Educators, and not for some little academy in Seoul.
So now there are things to do! Contracts to sign, housing to seek, cars to purchase (rather, CAR to purchase), lesson planning, classrooms to look over, oh wow I'm actually going to be a teacher. It's great, really, it's exactly what I set out to do once I decided to leave Korea. And there's no student teaching, so I'll actually get paid, and get at least a year of valuable experience... experience that will be useful if I do end up going overseas again, as I'll be able to teach in an international school, and they usually want at least two years experience. While I'm sure my academy experience is worth something there, real-life classroom experience will be infinitely more so.
When I first decided to return to Texas, my plan was to start the life that my peers had already started--you know, the actual career, the house, all of that. But now that I'm back, I'm not exactly sure if that's the life to suit me. So I'm going to do my best to not make any plans that extend past a year--there will be no 10 year goals here, other than the vague one of making myself happy with my life. What that entails, who knows? Maybe I'll start a commune in India and meditate every day and live off of bananas. I like bananas. It's a viable option.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Reflecting
And not the mirror kind of reflecting.
Today, I helped my mom clean out some old papers that had accumulated around the house. In the process, I found a lot of my old things that I'd never thrown out, either due to laziness, a lack of opportunity, or a misplaced sense of sentimentality. Boy, did those things get tossed today.
I did manage to save a few items, though. Pictures, letters from my grandmother, and a diary I had written all the way back in 1995... you know, when people still hand-wrote their diaries.*
Then I made the mistake of reading part of the journal. And every.single.page, I kid you not, talked about boys. How this one was cute, or this one was not, how this one had blonde hair or blue eyes or a red t-shirt. Every. Single. Page. I did talk about some other things in there, it wasn't like a giant ode to boys or anything, but they always got at least a cursory mention.
Now, I can chalk this up to a lot of things. I mean, it's pretty standard for most 13 year olds to be pretty darn boy-crazy. Plus, I was frequently reminded that I wasn't allowed to date until I graduated from high school. And I didn't. In retrospect, this was probably a good thing, considering just how boy crazy I was, I would have probably ended up with about 18 kids by now.** However, at the time, the only thing I wanted more than a copy of Final Fantasy VI*** and smaller glasses was a boyfriend.
Boy has that changed! I mean, don't get me wrong, I still like boys. They're very nice to look at (sometimes... some of them), they're occasionally fun to talk to****, and they can be good at picking up heavy objects. Some of them sing very nicely, and others dance well and a few of them can even cook. That doesn't mean they take up my every waking thought... and some of the non-waking ones. I guess this is an example of growing up? At least it makes for much less embarrassing diary entries.
Er, excuse me, journal entries.
*I have a diary that I still hand-write. Though now I'm all mature and stuff, so I call it a journal.
**Don't ask me how that's biologically possible. I just know that it is. I saw that show on TLC about the family with the bajillion kids, it can happen.
***Why yes, I was a dork, back before dorks became cool. I consider this an example of being a trendsetter.
****Haven't actually talked to him, just making an assumption.
Today, I helped my mom clean out some old papers that had accumulated around the house. In the process, I found a lot of my old things that I'd never thrown out, either due to laziness, a lack of opportunity, or a misplaced sense of sentimentality. Boy, did those things get tossed today.
I did manage to save a few items, though. Pictures, letters from my grandmother, and a diary I had written all the way back in 1995... you know, when people still hand-wrote their diaries.*
Then I made the mistake of reading part of the journal. And every.single.page, I kid you not, talked about boys. How this one was cute, or this one was not, how this one had blonde hair or blue eyes or a red t-shirt. Every. Single. Page. I did talk about some other things in there, it wasn't like a giant ode to boys or anything, but they always got at least a cursory mention.
Now, I can chalk this up to a lot of things. I mean, it's pretty standard for most 13 year olds to be pretty darn boy-crazy. Plus, I was frequently reminded that I wasn't allowed to date until I graduated from high school. And I didn't. In retrospect, this was probably a good thing, considering just how boy crazy I was, I would have probably ended up with about 18 kids by now.** However, at the time, the only thing I wanted more than a copy of Final Fantasy VI*** and smaller glasses was a boyfriend.
Boy has that changed! I mean, don't get me wrong, I still like boys. They're very nice to look at (sometimes... some of them), they're occasionally fun to talk to****, and they can be good at picking up heavy objects. Some of them sing very nicely, and others dance well and a few of them can even cook. That doesn't mean they take up my every waking thought... and some of the non-waking ones. I guess this is an example of growing up? At least it makes for much less embarrassing diary entries.
Er, excuse me, journal entries.
*I have a diary that I still hand-write. Though now I'm all mature and stuff, so I call it a journal.
**Don't ask me how that's biologically possible. I just know that it is. I saw that show on TLC about the family with the bajillion kids, it can happen.
***Why yes, I was a dork, back before dorks became cool. I consider this an example of being a trendsetter.
****Haven't actually talked to him, just making an assumption.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Focus
I think I'm losing sight of what's brought me back to the States in the first place. It's so easy to do, though. Watch as I again complain of boredom. But it's not really boredom, as much as a feeling of being on pause. I'm making a few motions towards setting up a life in my new town, where I got my job acceptance, but I'm still waiting for my exam results to come in before I really start to do anything.
And I think I'm a little overwhelmed by all there is to do. I'm basically starting from scratch at this point. I had edited so many things out of my life when I first went overseas, and again when I came back. Three years ago, my life fit into two suitcases. Three months ago, it fit into two suitcases... and approximately 6 boxes that I sent through the mail.
On the bright side, I've grown to enjoy having less clutter in my life. Not to say that there's no clutter at all, but there's definitely less than more people. But then again, I don't have the things most people my age do, like a car, or a tv, or a bed. Yeah, I don't have a bed. I'll be sleeping on an air mattress when I first move to my new place.... and I don't have an air mattress either. I'll be buying it once my test results come in. See the way that moved full circle there?
Though I did manage to acquire a cat. I guess that's some progress on the road of life.
And I think I'm a little overwhelmed by all there is to do. I'm basically starting from scratch at this point. I had edited so many things out of my life when I first went overseas, and again when I came back. Three years ago, my life fit into two suitcases. Three months ago, it fit into two suitcases... and approximately 6 boxes that I sent through the mail.
On the bright side, I've grown to enjoy having less clutter in my life. Not to say that there's no clutter at all, but there's definitely less than more people. But then again, I don't have the things most people my age do, like a car, or a tv, or a bed. Yeah, I don't have a bed. I'll be sleeping on an air mattress when I first move to my new place.... and I don't have an air mattress either. I'll be buying it once my test results come in. See the way that moved full circle there?
Though I did manage to acquire a cat. I guess that's some progress on the road of life.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Life.
So I think I can divide my life into segments based on where I lived at a given time. I guess most people can do this actually, except for people who lived for an entire lifetime in one place, or for people who had really really exciting things happen to them. I am not one of those people.
This is not divided very evenly... but here goes.
The Farm Age, 0-5.5:
I lived on a farm (duh). As is naturally the case in such tender, formative years, I don't remember much. Well, that's not precisely true. I remember a great deal, but all the events that I remember seem to have to do with me hurting or embarrassing myself. Like how I chopped my toe with a hatchet when I was trying to chop down a weed. Or when I ran away from home and set up camp in the cattle pen about 500 feet from the house. Or when I fell through the ice in the pond (in Texas, we call 'em 'tanks') like Amy in Little Women, except for the lack of ice skating, and Laurie rescuing me, and the fact that I was in a shallow part, so I only got wet to my knees. But I had to walk back home! In the snow! And it was cold!
The School Age, 5.5-18:
We moved to town when I started kindergarten. (I mostly remember only embarrassing things from then, too, it's like a disease, man.) My life was not exciting. I had a variety of "best friends", was in Girl Scouts (troop 256!) for a few years, went to middle school, went to high school. I was a definite academic type with unacademic leanings. It's hard, when you go to such a small school, to stay in only one niche, unless you really force yourself to it. So I kind of did a little bit of everything.... High school was definitely the high point during this period, because I actually remember good things happening! Along with bad things. But we won't get into them.
The Lubbock Years, 18-24:
I moved to Lubbock to go to University. My requirements in the University that I chose weren't too stringent. In fact, they mostly depended on which school would give me the best scholarship, and since all the ones I applied to offered pretty good ones... it came down to which school I knew how to get to. Lubbock it was! All told, it wasn't such a bad decision, but in my next life, I'll probably be a little more exacting in my standards. College was all right. I was terrible at going to class and awesome at picking bad boyfriends. Once I graduated, I stayed around and worked for awhile, but it was more stressful than anything. I didn't know what to do with my degree, I didn't want to go to grad school then, and I didn't know how to make any plans for the future. So that leads to...
Korea Time, 24-27:
Moving to Seoul was probably one of the best decisions of my life. I got to experience life as I'd never known it. Museums, theatres, ballets, nightclubs, street food vendors, mountains, rivers, beaches, coffee shops, aquariums, parks, restaurants, soju and samgyupsal, oh I get nostalgic just thinking of it. Even now, it's hard to not just pick up and go back. Not to say that my life there was perfect... there were definite rough spots, but there was so much to look forward to each week. I guess I miss that lifestyle even more, because my current era is...
The Unknown, 27-?:
This point in my life seems mostly to revolve around watching TV, washing dishes and reading books. I may be moving in the next two weeks or maybe not. I may be buying a car, renting a house, getting furniture, cooking my own meals, grocery shopping for just myself.... or maybe not. It all depends on the results of the exam I took three weeks ago, which I will receive in one more week. One more week! And if I don't pass the exam... maybe I'll return to the previous era. Or maybe not.
This is not divided very evenly... but here goes.
The Farm Age, 0-5.5:
I lived on a farm (duh). As is naturally the case in such tender, formative years, I don't remember much. Well, that's not precisely true. I remember a great deal, but all the events that I remember seem to have to do with me hurting or embarrassing myself. Like how I chopped my toe with a hatchet when I was trying to chop down a weed. Or when I ran away from home and set up camp in the cattle pen about 500 feet from the house. Or when I fell through the ice in the pond (in Texas, we call 'em 'tanks') like Amy in Little Women, except for the lack of ice skating, and Laurie rescuing me, and the fact that I was in a shallow part, so I only got wet to my knees. But I had to walk back home! In the snow! And it was cold!
The School Age, 5.5-18:
We moved to town when I started kindergarten. (I mostly remember only embarrassing things from then, too, it's like a disease, man.) My life was not exciting. I had a variety of "best friends", was in Girl Scouts (troop 256!) for a few years, went to middle school, went to high school. I was a definite academic type with unacademic leanings. It's hard, when you go to such a small school, to stay in only one niche, unless you really force yourself to it. So I kind of did a little bit of everything.... High school was definitely the high point during this period, because I actually remember good things happening! Along with bad things. But we won't get into them.
The Lubbock Years, 18-24:
I moved to Lubbock to go to University. My requirements in the University that I chose weren't too stringent. In fact, they mostly depended on which school would give me the best scholarship, and since all the ones I applied to offered pretty good ones... it came down to which school I knew how to get to. Lubbock it was! All told, it wasn't such a bad decision, but in my next life, I'll probably be a little more exacting in my standards. College was all right. I was terrible at going to class and awesome at picking bad boyfriends. Once I graduated, I stayed around and worked for awhile, but it was more stressful than anything. I didn't know what to do with my degree, I didn't want to go to grad school then, and I didn't know how to make any plans for the future. So that leads to...
Korea Time, 24-27:
Moving to Seoul was probably one of the best decisions of my life. I got to experience life as I'd never known it. Museums, theatres, ballets, nightclubs, street food vendors, mountains, rivers, beaches, coffee shops, aquariums, parks, restaurants, soju and samgyupsal, oh I get nostalgic just thinking of it. Even now, it's hard to not just pick up and go back. Not to say that my life there was perfect... there were definite rough spots, but there was so much to look forward to each week. I guess I miss that lifestyle even more, because my current era is...
The Unknown, 27-?:
This point in my life seems mostly to revolve around watching TV, washing dishes and reading books. I may be moving in the next two weeks or maybe not. I may be buying a car, renting a house, getting furniture, cooking my own meals, grocery shopping for just myself.... or maybe not. It all depends on the results of the exam I took three weeks ago, which I will receive in one more week. One more week! And if I don't pass the exam... maybe I'll return to the previous era. Or maybe not.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I suck at blogging.
But it's okay! Because I accept it. Besides, as I so eloquently explained it to my old boss, the highlight of my day now is when I get to make a trip to Wal-Mart. I have to drive 40 minutes to get a latte. I like lattes, but that sure is a long time to get one, so I rarely get to have them.
I had one today, though. It was pretty epic. Iced hazelnut lattes are what will get me through this summer. Even if they come around about once a week.
It had been raining off an on for almost the past two weeks. It kind of felt like monsoon season for awhile. I really like the rain, but there's a bad (or good, depending on how you view it) affect. It makes the grass grow. To ridiculously great heights. Yesterday, it FINALLY stopped raining, and then all I head up and down the block were lawnmowers. Loud, accusatory lawnmowers. Lawnmowers raging at me, for allowing such tall plant-life to grow in my own yard. Well, not my own yard, technically my parent's yard, but I guess lawnmowers don't differentiate when it comes to the jungle growing in front of the house.
So I mowed the yard.
I'm telling you this for three reasons.
1. I have lived exclusively in apartments for the past 9 years. That means... I haven't had to do any yard work in 9 years. I haven't mowed a yard in 9 years.... so boy, did my hands chafe. I couldn't feel my index fingers for the entire night.
2. I stepped in 3 beds of ants. Count them. 1.2.3. BEDS OF ANTS. Of course, I stepped in them after I ran the lawnmower over them, so they weren't too happy. And they showed that by swarming over my ankles and biting me. On three separate occasions. You would think I'd learn to watch where I'm stepping. Apparently not. Did any of you ever see the episode of Dirty Jobs where Mike's alligator hunting and gets bitten by ants?
Wait, I will show you.
Yeah, it's basically like that.
3. My next door neighbor is in her 80's, and she's a scrappy little thing. She mows her yard every day, uses the weedeater, sweeps the sidewalks.. we've even seen her going over her lawn with scissors. So when she saw me mowing the gigantic forest that had sprouted on the other side of the street.... well, to say that she approved would be an understatement. She came by to talk to me 3 different times during the course of my physical labor... the first time to verify that I was actually going to mow the yard... the second time to bring me a soda and a cup of ice... and the last time to press some Hershey's kisses into my hand. "These'll give you energy," she said.
And she was right. They did.
Too bad they couldn't ward off ant attacks.
I had one today, though. It was pretty epic. Iced hazelnut lattes are what will get me through this summer. Even if they come around about once a week.
It had been raining off an on for almost the past two weeks. It kind of felt like monsoon season for awhile. I really like the rain, but there's a bad (or good, depending on how you view it) affect. It makes the grass grow. To ridiculously great heights. Yesterday, it FINALLY stopped raining, and then all I head up and down the block were lawnmowers. Loud, accusatory lawnmowers. Lawnmowers raging at me, for allowing such tall plant-life to grow in my own yard. Well, not my own yard, technically my parent's yard, but I guess lawnmowers don't differentiate when it comes to the jungle growing in front of the house.
So I mowed the yard.
I'm telling you this for three reasons.
1. I have lived exclusively in apartments for the past 9 years. That means... I haven't had to do any yard work in 9 years. I haven't mowed a yard in 9 years.... so boy, did my hands chafe. I couldn't feel my index fingers for the entire night.
2. I stepped in 3 beds of ants. Count them. 1.2.3. BEDS OF ANTS. Of course, I stepped in them after I ran the lawnmower over them, so they weren't too happy. And they showed that by swarming over my ankles and biting me. On three separate occasions. You would think I'd learn to watch where I'm stepping. Apparently not. Did any of you ever see the episode of Dirty Jobs where Mike's alligator hunting and gets bitten by ants?
Wait, I will show you.
Yeah, it's basically like that.
3. My next door neighbor is in her 80's, and she's a scrappy little thing. She mows her yard every day, uses the weedeater, sweeps the sidewalks.. we've even seen her going over her lawn with scissors. So when she saw me mowing the gigantic forest that had sprouted on the other side of the street.... well, to say that she approved would be an understatement. She came by to talk to me 3 different times during the course of my physical labor... the first time to verify that I was actually going to mow the yard... the second time to bring me a soda and a cup of ice... and the last time to press some Hershey's kisses into my hand. "These'll give you energy," she said.
And she was right. They did.
Too bad they couldn't ward off ant attacks.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Boundaries.
I'm struggling with the idea of transparency, here. I mean, how much am I supposed to share on the great big old internet? Or how much is too much? I can tell you my height (5'7) or my favorite color (it's gray) (yes, really) but I just can't seem to feel okay about revealing too much in regards to my real life, or how I'm feeling....deep down.... or things like that. I realize it's better if I can share more, because then it's more interesting for anyone who happens to read this (if anyone happens to read this) and it also is a good way for me to remember what's happened at this point in my life.
I've kept "blogs" before, and I've kept written journals, and in both formats I struggle with this. I think this conflict stems from how little I edited from my journals when I was younger, and how mortified I was about what I had written down. Now, remembering them, they're not so bad. Mostly diatribes about how much I loathed whichever sibling I was fighting with at the time, or gushing praise about whichever boy I liked at the time. But reading what my 12 year old self had written when I was 18 was a bit of an eye-opener. And I guess it was then that I decided that 'twas better to be vague and confused than to talk too much about how cute Devon Sawa was. Do you remember Devon Sawa? I do. I had about 12 of his posters tacked up on the wall right next to my bed and I would look at him before I went to sleep each night and...
Oh. Right. Transparency.
I'm making an effort here. Or, at least, I'll try to make an effort here. I can't guarantee that I'll always be very forthright about what's happening in my life because... well... I just can't. There are some things a girl can't talk about. Like how many Diet Dr. Peppers they drink in a day.
You have to draw the line somewhere.
I've kept "blogs" before, and I've kept written journals, and in both formats I struggle with this. I think this conflict stems from how little I edited from my journals when I was younger, and how mortified I was about what I had written down. Now, remembering them, they're not so bad. Mostly diatribes about how much I loathed whichever sibling I was fighting with at the time, or gushing praise about whichever boy I liked at the time. But reading what my 12 year old self had written when I was 18 was a bit of an eye-opener. And I guess it was then that I decided that 'twas better to be vague and confused than to talk too much about how cute Devon Sawa was. Do you remember Devon Sawa? I do. I had about 12 of his posters tacked up on the wall right next to my bed and I would look at him before I went to sleep each night and...
Oh. Right. Transparency.
I'm making an effort here. Or, at least, I'll try to make an effort here. I can't guarantee that I'll always be very forthright about what's happening in my life because... well... I just can't. There are some things a girl can't talk about. Like how many Diet Dr. Peppers they drink in a day.
You have to draw the line somewhere.
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