How to be a Gringo

Two of the last three weekends I've spent as a gringo. Pale skin, light hair, clumsy espanol. Trying so hard to be inconspicuous in my quiet German whiteness. But failing miserably.

Latinos are experts in making sure everyone is included and taking part in the festivities. To sit on the sidelines observing is rather inconceivable. Who would enjoy that, when you could be the life of the party instead? No, Los Latinos make sure you enjoy yourself, even if it involves intoxicating you to the point where you have no choice but to have fun.

Now imagine quiet little me, trying to avoid the spotlight, much preferring to observe in peace in this environment. It's all a little overwhelming at times.

"Laura! You married now? You have a boyfriend? No? Why not? Come dance, who do you want, we'll set you up." In these situations I've discovered it's best to change the subject. "Quieres vino? I'll get you some!" for this reason I've mastered some key Spanish words and phrases.

Offering or asking for vino or cerveza is typically an effective way to change the subject. Or food for that matter. Hospitality is definitely a strong point in the Latino culture. "Ven, eat! Hay mucha comida." is a phrase I'm quite familiar with now.

Sometimes my gringa constitution just can't handle the amount of food and drink offered to me, though. So "un poco" or "un poquito" (a little) come in handy, along with "despues" (later).

And if all else fails, a smile and "no no no" usually gets the point across.

I have been hugged, kissed, and asked to dance by more strangers (male and female alike) in the last few weeks than any other year in my life.

And you know what? I love it.

Sure, it's a little overwhelming at times, but it's also so much fun! The Latinos I've been around, mostly Guatemalans and Peruvians, have been so open and welcoming; so happy and laid back. I've had ceviche and chicha, (raw fish and a drink made from purple corn). I've danced to salsa music and tried to understand conversations in espanol, with varying degrees of success. But mostly I've realized what a relief it is to just sit back and enjoy yourself, without worrying about making a fool of yourself or doing something wrong.

So overall I'm so happy to have these crazy Latinas in my life, teaching me how to shake my booty and down a pisco sour.

Although it still really helps to do those things in the opposite order!

Oh, One More Thing...

I have recently discovered/remembered another random thing that makes me inexplicably happy to add to my list. Being exhausted and sore after exercising. It's a weird concept...thinking that pain can make you happy, but I'm fairly certain this isn't just a weird phenomenon that only I actually enjoy. I'm pretty sure a fair number of people enjoy it. It's not necessarily that the pain itself is enjoyable--quite the opposite. I guess it's more that the pain and utter exhaustion are a tangible sign that you did something good for yourself, something that will eventually pay off if you keep at it.

I have many fond (okay, "fond" might be a bit of a stretch) memories of tryouts week for soccer. That stiff-legged burn, going home, lying on the couch, and not being able to move until about halfway through the next practice, when my muscles were warmed up again. And then repeat that every day for about a week, until I was back in shape.

Well, after about 7 years away from intense workouts like that, I'm experiencing it (albeit to a slightly lesser degree) once again. I recently made a life-changing purchase.

These are my new Vibram FiveFinger KSOs. They're super comfy, and it really does feel like you're barefoot. I bought them for a few reasons.

1. They're perfect for biking/swimming in the canyon, one of my all-time favorite summer pastimes.
2. I'm trying to be more active this summer, spending less time sitting inside and more outside getting exercise and enjoying nature. And if I had a cool new toy to play with, I might be more likely to succeed.
3. My big brother has a pair and raves about them. And I always believe everything he says. (And if you believe that...) ;)

So anyway, I bought a pair about three weeks ago, and after deciding that the first pair I bought was actually too small and exchanging them for the next size up, I've fallen in love. I also recently discovered (on the advice of the big bro) that it's so much easier to run in them than in normal sneakers. They're so much lighter and less clunky.

That being said, there is a down side. The packaging warned that you will use different muscles than you normally do. David warned me of that, too. (See? One example of how I don't always listen.) So I did my running, and then I hurt. MAN did I hurt. My calves feel like every single muscle fiber has been stretched to its breaking point. I feel muscles in my feet I never knew I even had.

But it's a good pain. A pain that says I'm doing something right. And if nothing else, I'll have killer calves when it's all said and done.

These are a Few of My Favorite Things

It occurred to me today, as I was standing in the office supply aisle of CVS, that many random little things can make me inexplicably happy. So I've decided to compile a list of some of these things for your perusal. Don't judge too harshly, okay?

• New pens -- you know, the really nice ones that write super smoothly and never gum up with ink at the tip like the cheap pens do.

• Notebooks, journals, paper in general
• Sharpies
• Cheepers on a summer night
• Books

• Puppies and kittens and babies
• When a customer says "May I please have..." instead of "I want..." or "Give me..."
• Coffee
• New clothes and shoes
• Thunderstorms
• Little kids' imaginations

• Seeing friends unexpectedly
• Blankets
• Crochet, knitting, or sewing
• Binge cleaning
• Being awake before anyone else
• Comments on my blog (ahem)
• Brothers

• Falling asleep on the couch after a big meal while watching TV with my parents
• Sisters-in-law
• New cosmetics--makeup, hair styling products, shower essentials
• Baths
• Family Guy
• Baby Susie and Pink Bear
• Bath, England

• British accents
• James Joyce

Okay, I'm getting bored, but I think that's a sufficiently random list. What strange things make you happy? I urge you to spend some time thinking about it, and then indulge in them, often.

Away from it All

Well, I turned 25. Thank goodness Mr. Camping and his cronies miscalculated. At least now I'll have 5 months to live as a member of the quarter century club. AND I lived to see my little Hermione molt for the first time! (At least I hope that's why she has buried herself in the sand.) Hermit crabs are supposed to molt on a somewhat regular basis, and neither of mine have done so since I've adopted them last fall. So I'm glad to see that Hermione, at least, is on track. Dimitri seems to be fairly active, though, so I'm not too worried about him. Can you tell I'm a proud mother?

So we've had some pretty severe weather up here in no-man's-land. We lost power from about 8 last night until sometime this morning or afternoon. And then it went out again for a couple hours tonight. Of course, it's nothing compared to Lauren's latest ordeals. But still, for northern PA, it's something out of the ordinary. We've had high winds, hail, torrential rain, and lots of thunder and lightening.

I've actually kind of enjoyed it. Thank God nothing too severe has happened in my general vicinity. No injuries of deaths that I've heard about. Tonight when the power went out I was home alone. I could have figured out how to turn on the generator, I suppose. But I didn't have any overwhelming desire to do so. Instead I left my computer and the television behind and just sat out on the porch, enjoying the storm. I listened to the rain and felt the wind on my face. A couple of baby squirrels joined me under the refuge of the porch roof, not sensing that I was there. I felt at peace. My phone was out of hearing range, and the internet and computer were not calling for my attention. It was a chance to just lie back and enjoy nature and the peace it brings. I can't say that I had any major revelations or moments of enlightenment, but I guess in a way it was a recharging period that I sorely needed; especially after two hectic days at work (a boil water advisory is not a pleasant thing for the food industry, FYI).

I have to say I was a little disappointed when my parents came home and turned on the generator. It was nice not having to worry about who was trying to contact me, or what I was missing in the digital world. So I went upstairs and took a bath by candlelight. That was the most relaxed I've been in "many moons" (to recall my childhood days in Indian Guides). I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's nice to be forced to step away from the modern world for a while. To be forced to spend some time with your own thoughts, dealing with those nagging issues and dilemmas that have been pushed aside by the many demands of the digital age.

Perhaps it's something I should force myself to do every once in a while, rather than waiting for severe weather to make it necessary. Perhaps we all should attempt this now and again.

Or maybe that's just the introvert in me talking. ;)

Coffee, Coffee!

If I can't take my coffee break,
Gone is the sense of enterprise
All gone, and something within me dies. 

"Coffee Break" - How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

 I want to tell you about my love of coffee. I used to think it was gross. Bitter, nasty, disgusting. I couldn't understand how my dad could drink it every day. I swore that I would never like it...never even drink the stuff! I would get my caffeine from soda, thank you very much. Sweet, refreshing, bubbly soda. None of that dark, bitter sludge.

I can't tell you when exactly this started to change. But sometime in college. I became a bit more educated in what exactly was in soda, and how bad it was for you. So I pretty much stopped drinking it. I'll have some every once in a while now, but generally the thought of it makes me a little queasy. I can feel my teeth enamel eroding and my stomach sizzling with acid as the sugary syrup streams out of the straw.

And suddenly coffee didn't seem so bad. With enough sugar and cream it was even tolerable. And before long, it became more than tolerable; it was desirable. I enjoyed drinking it. After that first sip, you barely even taste the bitterness. It gives me the energy to get through the day with a smile on my face and a skip in my step. It helped me clear my head at 11 p.m. as I started a 10-page paper due the next morning (okay, so I was never actually that bad...but I did have some procrastination issues). And so, against my strongest childhood assertions, I became a coffee-drinker.

And then I started working at the cafe. And I discovered a whole new side to coffee. There is a sense of power and altruism in knowing that I can prepare the perfect drink to get someone through a long day. I can make something that will cheer them up or meet a need. I don't even really need to think while I work. Muscle memory is a great thing. There isn't a 30-second period anywhere else in my life quite like the time it takes to steam milk for someone's afternoon latte. I can just stand there, knowing I'm making someone's day (and they're paying me to do it!). And I don't have to do anything else--I can't do anything else. I can't rush the steamer, and no one expects me to. They're willing to wait. Because they know it's worth it. They, too, have come to understand the power of coffee.

I wouldn't have it any other way.


(Check out my newest book post here.)

The Innocence of a Babe

Tonight I thought I was going to blog about politics. There's a lot to say about what's been going on lately--particularly regarding the major cuts in education funding. I'm angry and upset with Congress and the people who put them there, knowing full well what their plans were for cutting so many essential social programs. I'm pissed off that these men and women--arguably some of the most powerful people in the country--don't seem to have to play by the same rules as everyone else. They don't have to get along or do their jobs. They don't have to compromise or listen to others. And yes, it's a problem on both sides; I'm not just blaming Republicans. So here I was, full of anger, disappointment, and hopelessness for the direction our government is taking us.

And then I watched this video. I don't cry during sad movies. I don't cry over touching lyrics. But this little girl--she made me cry. Because she is so innocent, and so full of joy. She doesn't sing because it will make her rich and famous. She sings because she likes to. And through that innocence that only children possess, she touches so many lives, mine included. I felt like everything would be okay while watching this little girl sing, with her mispronounced "r"s and slight lisp. It took a child to pull me out of the adult world of blame and anger. We should all probably start paying closer attention to the children in our lives. In many ways, I think they're a heck of a lot smarter than we give them credit for.

De-Glob the Wad

I was told that rather than sit and fume at my computer over nonexistent problems created only by my tendency to overanalyze everything, I should write on my blog. And because this person usually gives really good advice, and she just left to take care of certain hygienic necessities, I decided to give it a go. That and I've seriously neglected blog-world as of late.

The issue is coming up with something worthwhile to ruminate over. Do you ever have those moments when your brain feels like a huge wad of chewed gum? Cause that's what I'm experiencing right now. Maybe it's brain rot, from not doing anything scholastic in the past year or so. It's like a giant lump of sticky, useless, disgusting grossness.

Sometimes I try to mentally de-glob the wad. I imagine the light of knowledge gathering in a ball in the middle of my brain, and I focus on that ball and cause it to grow bigger and bigger, until it is breaking through the gunk and shining out, like sunbeams behind a cloud. The idea is that eventually all the crust of disuse will break away and all that will be left is the sharp glint of knowledge beaming through.

It never gets there, though. Usually I end up getting distracted by Family Guy, or the dog, or my mom. And the glare of light dims until it's just a glimmer, and then *poof* it's gone--extinguished by lazy idleness. Ah well.

Something else that's been on my mind lately, is that people need to get over playing games in matters of the heart. Maybe it's just girls who do that, and then girls project that guys must be doing it too. But seriously, life would be so much simpler if we all just said what we meant. If I want to talk to someone, I should just do it, not worry about if it will make me look too forward or clingy. I shouldn't worry about what people will think.

Except that I have this issue with over-thinking things. So, I'm not very good at following my own advice. Boo. Oh well, that's part of who I am. So I suppose I should get used to it. :p

Love Thy Neighbor

Sometimes I really don't understand what God is doing. Why is it that some of the best people can't catch a break? They continually get dumped on, one back-breaking, spirit-crunching blow after another? I don't understand it, and I'm angry. I've felt my faith slipping with each bit of news I received tonight. It is so hard to know that someone you love is suffering and there isn't much you can do about it--to know that their world is dissolving around them and you can't reach in to save them...you can't even really understand their pain. The sense of helplessness brings on anger. At least that's my reaction.

And then people try to comfort you with stock phrases, like "It's all in God's hands." Or "He never gives you more than you can handle." And my gut response is Well why the hell doesn't he do something already if he's so dang powerful?! Maybe I'm just a bad Christian. Heck, I know I am, at least right now. And yet, I just can't shake that inner Catholic conscience squeaking away at me.

When that final news hit tonight, I found myself sending a text out to a number of close friends. Friends who I knew would pray. Because even though I'm mad right now, and I don't understand--somewhere, deep down inside of my heart, I know that (or at least have to believe that) God is there somewhere, and he will watch out for my suffering family and friends. And even though I'm really struggling to believe in him and his plan, I have to find the strength to break the vise on my heart and let that never-ending love shine through on those who need it so badly right now. I've already felt the clamp loosening with the outpouring of love and support from those friends I messaged in desperation. Some of them surprised me a bit by ending up on my SOS list. People I haven't talked to in months...and yet I know they'll be there for me. And I know they'll offer up those prayers that keep getting stuck between my heart and my head. To me, that in and of itself is a sign that God is there, somewhere, listening and caring. At least I hope so.

***Anyone who is reading this, if you're a praying person, please offer up a couple of prayers. It doesn't matter if you know who you're praying for. I think that whoever you're praying to will know what to do with them. And whether you're religious or not, please take a moment and listen to my plea:

It's so easy to judge people. And it's so tempting to talk about those judgements, especially in a small town. But all of these people have stories that you don't know. And they have people who love them. So please, try to have an open heart and do what you can to love your neighbors, no matter how hard it may seem.

Something Needs to Change.

When you see someone suffering, and know there's not a thing you can do to help them, it hurts.
When you see how hard someone works, and know they'll never make it to where you started, it hurts.
When you know you can get out and move on, but your fellows can't, it hurts.
When you know that what you have is luck, and nothing more, it hurts.

It's one thing when I see stories in the media about those affected by poverty, natural disaster, famine, and illness. There is this fantastic wall--a bubble wall that surrounds and protects me. Yes, I feel sorry for the people I read about or see on television. I hope that someone, somewhere helps them and they move on and prosper. But I can just flick off the TV or snap shut the newspaper, and their problems are gone, shut out by the wall of my own reality--a reality constructed within the confines of the blessings and luck I was born into, that I had nothing to do with. I don't have to dwell on the suffering.

And then I meet people in my own area. People I have daily interactions with. And I see their struggles; lower-class American poverty. Forty, fifty, sixty years old and just barely paying the bills each month. Or maybe not paying the bills each month. Very sick, but unable to afford the luxury of a doctor. I see that it's a cycle. These people are no less deserving than me. No worse or lesser in any way. Better in some. But they were unlucky. Their parents worked two, three jobs to pay the bills (or not). They do the same. College wasn't an option. No one cared enough to help them along. And their kids will follow suit. Innocent kids, no better or worse than me, just born into lesser circumstances.

And I see very little I can do. How do I, we, break the cycle? It's depressing to me. The people with power have more important things to worry about: making sure they get their raises and the companies who got them into office are able to push their agendas through. Where is the humanity? The compassion?

Are we really that selfish? It hurts to realize that yes, we are.

Yes, I am.

Moving Along

I am an undecided individual. And generally I'm okay with that. I'm not the kind of person who worries on a regular basis about what's coming or what I'm going to do next. I wasn't the high school junior who knew exactly where I wanted to go to school and what I wanted to study and what I wanted to do with said degree. I'm more of a stop and read the footnotes kind of person (smelling roses doesn't have much appeal to an anosmic like myself). I enjoyed high school (yes, gasp in disbelief and incredulity if you must) and when it came time to move on, I started looking at some schools, visited a few, and eventually, somehow narrowed it down to two choices. I'm still not exactly sure how I ended up at G-burg. But I did, and it ended up being the best four years of my life so far.

Eventually I decided English was the academic course I would take, mainly because I had a couple really good classes with a couple great professors. That and I love to read and write. I guess I knew in the back of my mind that it would be a difficult field in which to make an actual living. But I got lucky or fate was on my side or something, and I landed a job right out of college. That was not the best year of my life, but I learned some very important life lessons and gained some good experience.

So in the past I've been content to let life carry on and see where it takes me. Unfortunately, I haven't been so lucky in the last year. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I should attempt to make a quantum leap and become a motivated, driven individual. Don't get me wrong, there have been good parts to the last year. I met some great people, opened a new, adult chapter in my relationship with my parents, and learned how to make yummy coffee. And I attained a new sense of gratefulness for the blessings in my life that allowed me to go to school and some day (fingers crossed) have a career that won't require me to work 50 hours a week at low-paying jobs just to pay the bills.

The problem seems to be that while I think being motivated and driven would be interesting, I can't seem to move any further in that direction. It remains a vague interest in what could be "if things were different." So how do I make things different? How do I organize the rambling, confused list of things I'd like to do into an organized list that can actually be handled and accomplished? Let's start with just getting at least part of that list out there. Here goes, in no particular order:

• Complete my lifetime reading list.
• Write a book.
• Blog more regularly.
• Buy a Wii.
• Have my own apartment.
• Have a house with a library.
• Develop a meaningful romantic relationship.
• Get a career-type job.
• Move out of Wellsboro.
• Go back to school.
• Travel abroad.
• Live abroad, for a period.
• Open a combination coffee shop/bookstore.
• Do humanitarian work that actually makes a positive influence on the world.

I just went through and listed the problems or obstacles with each of those goals, but when I read through them they made me sound extremely whiny and annoying. And since I do still have a shred of dignity and care for what the world thinks of me, I deleted the list. So let's go with a list of possible solutions, or ways to achieve said goals.

1. Buckle down, hit the job search with renewed energy and optimism and find a good job, regardless of whether or not it's a "dream job." Then I'll have some money (which was a recurring theme on my list of obstacles) to possibly achieve some of my other goals. From there I can work on following my bigger dreams.
2. Resign myself to a foreseeable future of debt and go back to school, hoping that it will end in an internship or other contact that could turn into a decent job opportunity.
3. Attempt to join the Peace Corps or some other humanitarian organization, thus putting off the whole "becoming a real adult" thing for a couple more years, and possibly just disappearing in whatever faraway place I am stationed and live out my life free of modern-world cares and worries.
4. Join a convent.
5. Find and marry a rich man who will fund everything on my list.

So these actually ended up being more or less in order of feasibility and practicality. Number 5 would be great, but I've yet to come across any guys that fit the bill. If any rich, pleasant, down-to-earth, charitable, genuinely nice guys read this however, do leave a message and we can talk. Oh, and I totally lied about the whole joining a convent thing. That definitely wouldn't work out for me. While going back to school or joining the Peace Corps definitely appeal to my inner idealist, I'm afraid I've inherited too much of my mother's practicality to actually follow through on either of those options.

Well, I'm really no further along than I was before I posted this. In fact, I'm reminded of a song from one of my favorite Broadway soundtracks, Avenue Q, "I Wish I Could Go Back to College." Particularly one line: "I need an academic advisor to point the way." (See the whole song here.)

I wish someone would tell me what to do.