Special Words

I am not a very consistent person. Nope. Ain't got the attention span for it. That's probably my fault. Whatever. Anyway! So, today- this morning- my parents and I went to the park to exercise. You know, walking or jogging a few laps. We had a few church friends join us, then my Dad said, "Oh, call your grandparents. See if they want to come."

Now, I initially didn't want to call them because that meant I would have to walk with my grandma, and not exercise on my own. Not that I don't enjoy walking with my grandma, but because of my inconsistency this was my first week working out after a month of sedentary habits. But, I called my grandparents, of course, I did, who do you think I am? They'd said they'd come.

I knew that I had about thirty to forty minutes before my grandparents would show up so I decided to take four quick laps around the main area of the park (that's about a mile). When my grandparents arrived, I just finished my laps, and could now attend to my grandma. (Grandpa doesn't want me to help him walk around because my helping him makes him look old. Don't tell him, but I think he looks old without my help.)

When I walk with my grandma I sometimes I forget I walk too quickly for her. That I need to slow down. At a few points during our walk she needs to sit and rest. I took advantage of this and did a few squats, when she turns to me and says, "You're not stout. You are skinny."

"Oh, I-. Thanks, Grandma."

Self-consciousness is not reserved for the female half of the species so I probably don't need to tell you how I can 'feel fat' even though 'fat' is not a feeling. Sadness, anger, happiness: those are feelings. I probably don't need to tell you how frustrating it can be to go clothes' shopping; or how I don't want to do Zumba, or Crossfit, or go on diets after looking through magazines or watching television or surfing the internet.

In fact, a lot of my reasons for refusing to lose weight stem from a desire to stay away from the hype and need to 'look good' in clothes I can't afford or that I even like in the first place. I have no desire to post my day-to-day progress from a size 10 to a size -3. I don't like when people look at me now, why in the world would I want people to look at me when I'm 'really attractive'?

But then Grandma told me, "You're not stout. You are skinny."

I'm 5'2 and weigh about 165 lbs: I am far from 'skinny' for my dimensions, but as it is, I like to think I look well enough; I like to think that I'm confident enough in myself, in my appearances to brush off any insult...but not all the time.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with posting your day-to-day progress. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good in clothes, especially if it's something you like, but I cannot tell you how many times those worries have overpowered the better desire to be healthy, confident, and happy. I cannot tell you how many times I've covered myself in shame for being unable to wear what the mannequin's wearing.

I can't believe I can be intimidated by something that doesn't breathe. At all. Nor would care to!

I suppose, in so many words, my grandma meant to say I've changed. Perhaps she meant to say I'm pretty. Whatever she meant to say I was glad she said it. Glad to hear her stories. Glad I asked for my grandparents to join us. Glad my weight problems are mere mole-hills instead of mountains, as indeed are all my problems mole-hills.

To reread, or not to reread? That's hardly a question! Reread!

So, yesterday was a pretty full day for me. Not because I was running all over the place trying to accomplish fifty different things simultaneously, I just had no time to myself. I haven't had an entire day to myself for a while now. I miss those lonesome hours. Regardless, my full day yesterday, I had a few great conversations, all which challenged me, forcing me to reconsider some of my beliefs, my standards and morals. (Now, don't mistake me. 'Reconsider' does not mean 'completely dismiss'. Thanks.)

The conversations I had yesterday reminded me of many of the books I've read, some of which I couldn't quote perfectly. I couldn't even remember the names of the characters I was trying to describe. This bothered me greatly: if I can't remember names of characters, or the exact words of the quotation I might as well just pull the words out of my butt! I might be using these examples out of context, and I hate doing that. I hate manipulating words to me what I want them to mean. I can't just throw away the author's/writer's intent--I'd be a traitor. Every author/writer entrusts his readers to take into account his intent (except, maybe, for deconstructionists). Who am I to impose my thought?

side note: I am not suggesting that I couldn't 'correct' someone's thinking--were I able to do that in the first place--but I like to think I allow the author/writer to think his own thoughts. Only when I understood the author/writer would I feel able, or ready, to offer a rebuttal, or reinforcement.

So!- because of this, I really ought to reread the book's that've, so far, influenced my thinking. I ought to read the books that influenced those books. I really need to read more. I really need to reread. I need to memorize.

Oh, geez. I have to memorize now.

Excuse me while I pull out my index cards.

If only all job interviews were like this:

"I promise you that I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."

   "And, and how do you know that?"

   "Because I've read your requirements and qualifications. I don't fit any of them. At all."
   "You are very down on yourself."
   "Yes."
   "Why?"
   "Because-."
   "Did something make you so horrible?"
   "I just am horrible."
   "That's not true. Something had to have made you horrible. Adam and Eve weren't horrible to begin with."
   "I don't like where this is going."
   "I'm not taking it anywhere."
   "I- I promise you: I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."
   "Can't you file things away? Can't you answer phones, make small talk, make people laugh?"
   "Anyone can do those things."
   "Yes, but you think."
   "You're saying that others don't think when they do those things."
   "Not really. Not really thinking when they file things, answer phones, talk small and make people laugh."
   "Then what do they really do when they do those things?"
   "Just those things."
   She sat there silently, staring at the floor space near her interviewer. "But-. I'm not qualified."
   "But you tell the truth."
   "And if you know so much about me, you'll also know that I think truth is overrated, and how long I've thought so! People put too much stock in this thing they call truth, and they don't even know what real truth is! It is true that people all over the world are hurting. It is true that people steal from other people. It is true that he still prefers her to me. It is true that I am still as unqualified as I believe myself to be. All that is true."
   The interviewer stared at her.
   She would not return his gaze. She continued to stare at the floor space around his feet, tracing patterns with her eyes so that she could avoid crying.
   The interviewer frowned, but quickly smiled. "Then you'll also know that this is not the sort of truth I apply to you."
   "What?"
   "You'll know then, that the sort of truth that I ascribe to you has nothing to do with the ugly monster you just applied to mean yourself. You are not that monster."
   "What? Is it the real truth's evil twin?" she snorted.
   The interviewer thought about it, then nodded in agreement. "Yes. That's exactly what it is. An evil twin." The interviewer laughed. "Oh, I need to hire you. When can you start?"
   She looked the interviewer up and down, her emotions running around for her, bewildered and frenzied. "Hire me? Your list of qualifications said you're looking for someone with a Ph.D, or a couple masters' degrees in their back pockets, swimming with heavenly references, expensive internships, and Louis Vuitton suits. Not that there's anything wrong with those things; I often wish I wanted those things. They seem like such good things to want."
   "And that is the only lie you could've told me."
   "I promise you that I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."
   "Do you intend to keep that promise?"
   "Well, I suppose if it's not a biblical promise then it's a promise that's meant to be broken."
   "I want you for the job. Will you take it?"
   "I feel as though I have no choice."
   "Oh. You have a choice, but that is not a feeling. Your feeling, what you're feeling now, is my belief in you. Not my belief in your qualifications or requirements."
   "You left out achievements."
   "You never said 'achievements'."
   "So both your ears do work."
   "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Dress well."
   "I refuse to dress any other way."

well-intentioned

thank you for your attempt!
that was very...well-intentioned of you.
i can't say i saw it coming,
no more than you really will keep it coming as you promise to do, but thank you.
your consideration for my...inherent?
my...obvious?- devastation is still kind.
thank you.
you are kind.
as kind as i will ever be.
although i don't remember drowning, choking, or bleeding
i still thank you.
perhaps i was drowning, choking, or bleeding at one point.
i don't know.
i'm sure there are cases of people drowning, choking, or bleeding without knowing.
surely, yes.
i've lied without knowing.
i don't know.
but, thank you.
your intentions will not go unnoticed.

Funny thing about emotions...

So, the funny thing about emotions-. No, wait. The natural thing about emotions: they change. They're supposed to change. People whose emotions don't change are annoying and fake. We don't like annoying and fake. We like honesty and realness. Now the funny thing about honesty and realness is that one can often be too honest and real? You think that's impossible? Well, have you ever verbalized what's really on your mind when you're angry? That's being too honest.

One of the greatest, most precious, consequences of being too honest, however, is discovering who won't hate you for it. Discovering who won't run away from you. Also discovering how much you might need to change in order to deserve the people who won't hate you, or run away from you.

I've been told that change is good. I like change. I don't like big changes toppling after me like dominoes. I like subtle changes. I appreciate subtlety. I like when-the-ocean-beats-against-the-rocks change. I like slow, steady change. Change that must occur day to day, like routines, so that when I turn around to see the hole I've dug, I've actually not dug a hole at all. Really, any holes I might have dug are just exits out of the mound! Ooh, like Edmond Dantès and the Priest digging out a tunnel! Or!- or like Andy Dufresne! Yeah, Andy!- you redeem Shawshank!

But back to emotions naturally changing.

If emotions didn't change I wouldn't know the people I do. If my emotions never changed- well, I- I wouldn't've known such great things as love, longing, friendship and sadness exist beyond my imagination; that these emotions exist as fluidly and abundantly in a stranger's life as in my life. That's a sad existence: to live without others.

No man is an island. Even monks live in community, however solitary.

Even the annoying, fake ones--what's life without them? What if they want to change in order to deserve your friendship? What if they're waiting for someone who's willing to be that person who will hear too much honesty and realness? I don't know. Maybe. It's just a thought I had.

Because sometimes I don't like how my emotions change. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel so self-conscious, aware of someone's compliments or insults--what then would my reason over-think if I didn't have these emotions?

Ah, I must be a whole person:

"And all the time--such is the tragi-comedy of our situation--we continue to clamour for those very qualities we are rendering impossible. You can hardly open a periodical without coming across the statement that what our civilization needs is more 'drive', or dynamism, or self-sacrifice, or 'creativity.' In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful." -C.S. Lewis' The Abolition of Man

Yes, this is a little out of context. A lot out of context, but basically!- I become upset with others who treat me poorly--who did not give me my dues--but who've I treated poorly? Who've I disregarded? Who've I walked all over? I probably have done all those things. I'm not better than the person who did so to me.

I can't expect someone to be virtuous, enterprising, beautiful, endearing, encouraging without being so myself? Not that I'm going to walk around showing everyone what it means to be all those things--that's stupid. But to just be those things, right? Am I right?

Ah, I'm probably wrong.

All I know is that I can't be afraid of fickle emotions. I can't be afraid of angry, sad or bitter thoughts for these emotions give way to peace, happiness and contentment.

Have a good night.

I can speak five languages!

Actually. I can't speak five languages. I can say 'no' in five languages!

Tagalog: No.

Spanish: No

English: No

Portuguese: Não.

German: Nein.

See. I'm good at this language stuff. 

Okay, I'm not, but what I am good at is understanding someone who is trying to speak English. You don't think that's a talent? Well, a talent like this certainly won't get me scholarships, or land me jobs translating famous Latin texts into mediocre English (Oh! I can say 'no' in Latin too: Non) but, really, I think this 'talent' of mine helps me empathize better. Because I'm an Asian-American I can tell Asian ESL students what Americans are looking for (in job interviews; in conversation) but can also tell Americans how Asians generally perceive the American culture. 

Lately, I've been doing some volunteer work: tutoring in its loosest form. More like glorified conversation. And, while I am 'teaching'- while I am helping my students, I am really envious. ESL is so popular but I almost wish there were KSL or CSL or RSL or TSL that would teach me. (Respectively: Korean, Chinese, Russian, Tagalog.) 

I'm told over and over again that English is difficult to learn, but I keep meeting and teaching people who can speak it as well as their native tongue; even read it as well! 

Perhaps it's not as hard as I imagine it to be. Perhaps it's easy to switch from one alphabet to another. 

Why can't I do that?

Is it because my learning another language isn't a necessity? I already know English- it's everyone else that needs/wants to know English. 

I should've been an ESL student. I should've been born and raised in a different country for it seems all the rest of the world is destined for bilingualism, while I am cursed with mono-lingualism.

Okay, I'm totally being dramatic. Of course I can learn another language if I really want to. 

An elderly Russian couple has come into work lately, and we recognize each other enough where I can ask, "How do I say 'thank you' in Russian?"

"спасибо."

"Spa-cee-bua. Spa-cee-bua."

"Yes. Good. You're good."

"Oh, well, thank you. спасибо."