The Plague of Pragmatism

     On this side of the new year I have been making the attempt of being better about gifts. In the past, my keenness in simply remembering birthdays and sending a nice, personal message is as far as my gift-giving abilities have gone. Pathetic, I know - believe me, it renders me distraught thinking about it now. Thus it comes as a surprise to no one that I possess very little talent in selecting and gifting the much sought after "perfect present." I wish it was an inherent characteristic of mine to somehow glean that what you desperately want most is an ornate birdhouse for your lawn; for those of you who have no trouble with this, I envy you.
     It has been difficult and stressful thus far planning ahead, calculating shipping speeds, and penny pinching, all before I even order a blasted gift, but it has also produced within me good feelings once it's all said and done and the gift is in the hands of the intended recipient. I can't deny that giving gifts feels awesome. However, I have found out very quickly that the talent was not lying dormant and it is not something I can cultivate. Still, I will sally forth.
     The main problem is I never know where to start. My relationship with the individual in question could boast several years of inseparability and enough wacky stories to fill countless journals, and I would still know diddly-squat what to gift them. That is, unless they told me.
     Pragmatism is basically my middle name; in every possible realm of my life I try to be practical. If it's useless, it's not worth keeping around (this principle counts for people, too). Therefore I have come to the conclusion that marrying pragmatism and gift-giving might very well save me armfuls of stress down the road. The only hesitation is that it's a little bizarre in certain cases and it's going to take some getting used to. But this is what it comes down to: when your birthday is approaching and I ask you what you want or need, I do not care if the first thought that jumps to mind is your nearly empty bottle of body wash in the shower or the fact that your printer is almost out of ink. If that is what will help you most, then so be it. I would much rather buy you your favorite body wash or an ink cartridge than a gift that might look pretty but has absolutely no real function, like a pillow with Jensen Ackles's face on it (sorry, Kylie - it was funnier more than anything, and I didn't know what else to do!). BUT I can't achieve this pragmatic-gift marriage if you don't tell me what you need. I'll buy you laundry detergent, brake fluid for your car, notebooks, a new case for your phone, air fresheners, a better welcome mat, a set of screwdrivers - I don't care! 
     SO the next time I ask you what you want or need for your birthday, and I promise I will ask you - rarely will a gift ever just show up on your doorstep out of nowhere - please please please don't hesitate to tell me that it's about time for you to buy your hamster some new food anyway. If there isn't something you want, I almost guarantee there is something you need or could at least use. Dish soap? Alcohol? Fertilizer? As long as it's within a reasonable price range, consider it done. Let me help you in a more fulfilling way and simultaneously satisfy this plague of pragmatism that has infiltrated my life. Help me transform this plague into a cheerful practice. Giving better gifts begins with you.

Control

     This week has been all over the place, and not always in a good way. While I try to consistently approach things knowing that I have nothing at all to complain about, there was a moment, a text, Thursday evening that knocked the wind right out of my sails. I was hanging out with a group of friends and it was so noticeable that my best friend pulled me aside and asked if everything was okay. She could read it plainly on my face.
     Yes, everything is honestly fine; some potential fun plans that I had been looking forward to since last Saturday changed drastically, and now my weekend is completely, utterly free. Harry Potter movie marathon, anyone? (No joke. I have them stacked by the TV, ready.)
     This isn’t the end of the world. I know this. Though as a planner, big last minute changes rock my world, leaving me reeling, so it took some time for me to come back to my center of balance. I fell asleep unhappy Thursday eve.
     In waking up yesterday morning, I told myself that it wasn’t the end of the world, truly. I’d had a bad moment, but I would not let that define my week. So I put on my gym clothes and smiled, pouring out those grimy thoughts along with the sweaty exertion of exercise.
     My message today is this: you have the power to determine how you feel. We all have bad days - it’s okay. It’s part of being human. But those bad days have absolutely not control over your mindset. Whenever you get thrown, pick up however many pieces have shattered at your feet, tell yourself it’s okay, and strut through the rest of the day or week like the majestic peacock you are. Your mindset matters, so make it positive.
     I leave you with a poem I wrote on a particularly rough day years ago and serves only as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
   Ta~

I
wish
I could choke
on stars
and implode
until there’s nothing left
just so
someone
could make
a wish.

     V

There's a Crack in My Crystal Ball

The entirety of last week, I was deeply unhappy; my soul possessed a supreme discontentment – even the bits of soul down in my pinky toes felt it! And the worst part? I couldn’t even put to words why. Thoughts could not embody this disturbance in my being. It drove me crazy.

For days, I woke up with a frown that barely shifted with each passing hour. A reason to pin this crappiness on would have been marvelous, but it took a while for me to properly interpret it.

As most of you know, I am in college finishing up my junior year with a double major in Psychology and Creative Writing. The double major had been something I was 100% certain of even before I set foot on campus in the fall of 2012, as well as plans to go on and get a Master’s in Psych. Freshly 18 years old, I had the next 6 to 8 years of my life planned out as far as academics, and at least 4 years of that I was undoubtedly sure of.

Now that I am on the cusp of finishing my 3^rd year out of 4 in undergraduate studies, the post-graduation future is looming and the pressure of that unfortunately has pushed me to be the most stressed out I have ever been in my life, and I do not say that lightly. I do not get stressed because I don’t allow myself to, but over that week I had to admit that I was discontent with something and stressed out about it. But what the heck was it? I needed more variables to fill in this equation – thus far it was all question marks.

I had been doing what every decent Christian does – pray. Most of my prayers that week consisted of me asking for clarity about my future, about where I was supposed to go and what to do. A couple weeks before that ultimate-stress-week, I had been telling God to make it obvious when He lets me in on my future plans, because I know I’m not the best at interpreting between my feelings and God’s intentions. I distinctly recall saying during family prayer time for God to sledgehammer the obviousness into my head if need be.

Careful what you pray for, kids.

Stress-week was emotionally and spiritually painful (sledgehammer to the soul?). Wednesday night I finally found a faint glimmer of clarity: I didn’t want to go to grad school in Psychology anymore.

It was a feeling before it was a verbalized concept, one that presented itself in tears before words.

There was an acute internal trigger, and through the sniffles I verbalized to myself why I was so discontent. I had realized I didn’t want to go to grad school in Psychology and I had to tell myself it was okay. It’s okay when plans change – now is much better than later, too; for instance, in the middle of a Master’s program for Psych I sure as heck would not have wanted this realization. And anyway, it didn’t currently change much, although initially I thought it changed everything (more stress).

I wanted to write. As soon as I admitted that to myself, I was rushed with alleviation. I wanted to get an MFA, go to a graduate school program that would better my skills. Writing is my passion and has been solidly since 2010, but the seed was planted years before that. Writing is something I cannot live without, while psychology can remain dormant without much fuss – there are so many indicators of this that I feel a fool for not seeing them. Last semester I didn’t have any creative writing classes whatsoever and didn’t have any time to write creatively, so academic papers took over. By the end of the semester, I was crazy with the need to write something, anything creative.

Over spring break (February 28^th to March 8^th) I was home with my parents, and the very first day I was there, my dad and I had a lengthy conversation about the future. At that point I had still been sure about my Master’s-in-Psych decision, and I told this to him. He squinted his eyes a little and gave a small smile, saying he thought years ago that my idea was that creative writing is the capstone and psychology was going to be a helper in that realm. Writing was the Pacific Ocean and psychology was just one of the many rivers that eventually leads into it. Instead, psychology had taken over, in retrospect I think because I had career-minded thinking and had already written off using a creative writing major as a potential future career.

Funny how people on the outside have more insight into my own mind.

Later in the realization week I got Chinese take out for dinner. I happened to walk out with two fortune cookies and for some reason only cracked open one. The fortunes was unsurprisingly inconsequential and irrelevant.

On Sunday I got the urge to crack open the other one, just because. I hadn’t even planned to eat it. The message inside made me roll my eyes and smile.

God finds himself hilarious.

And I blessedly find myself in the arms of pure contentment. 

Apartamento Dolce Apartamento

I've never had much of a history of giving up. When I say I'll do something, no matter how difficult it gets (usually without realizing it will be that way in the first place), I tough it out. If I sign up for a class that turns out to be the opposite of what I expected, I don't drop. It's a blatant stubbornness, I suppose, so when my initial reaction to arriving in Italy was wanting desperately to go home, I was floored. As overwhelming and frustrating as the first day was, I'm glad I steeled myself and made a bargain in my head, agreeing that if I gave it a week or two and I really just could not stand it, I would cry for help. So, after the first few days of getting accustomed to Milan piece by piece, I'm certain that I will like it here. It was weakness that almost got the best of me, nearly drowned me in frantic emotion. But I'm glad I never give up so easily. 

It is currently the eve of day five of my being in Milan, and so far, I have successfully gone to the grocery store twice, withdrawn money from an ATM, and traveled via the metro and not gotten lost again! It certainly has been a trying week, but things are getting better. I am getting more and more used to life here and how certain things works, but there is still much for me to learn of the local customs.

As for right now, though, I’ve been happy simply exploring my apartment, the complex, and the street it is located on. Lucky for you, I want to share these things, so welcome to the grand tour of my apartamento! Andiamo!

Okay, the first quirk I noticed upon entering the apartment is that there are keys for every single door in the place. There are two front doors (three if you count the gate to get into the apartment complex from the street), a bedroom door, and a bathroom door. Yes, the bathroom does indeed lock from the inside via key. 

When you walk through both the front doors, you are immediately in the kitchen and dining area. There’s a stove, over, dishwasher, fridge, and sink. As you can see, the kitchen isn’t very different from a typical American kitchen (except for the color scheme, which is laughably relevant to my family – Go Blue!).

Down the hall just a few steps to your left is a bathroom. This bathroom, as might come as a surprise, is actually fairly good-sized. By American standards, it probably would seem tiny, but for me it’s perfect. The largest thing in the room is the sink (perhaps because it doubles as a wash basin for washing clothes). There is also a tiny itty bitty washing machine (that according to my roommate takes “forever and a day” to do a single load, which just lends even more to the fact that most Italians simply hand wash their clothes), a bidet, a toilet, and a shower. The shower is about the size of a phone booth. My best estimated measurements are that it’s two and a half feet wide with a depth of about two feet, whereas the top of the door and where the tile stops is probably somewhere between six and six and a half feet tall. 

At the end of the little hall is the bedroom, which my roommate and I share comfortably. (I apologize for the poor, grainy quality of the photo – the lighting in that room is horrendous.) My bed is larger than a twin, more like a one and a half, and hers is a twin. There’s a chair and ottoman combo in the back corner, and a desk in the opposite corner. The wall to the right is primarily covered in closet and storage space for clothes and belongings. There are only two windows in the apartment – one is located in the kitchen, looking out into the apartment complex, and the other is in the bedroom, looking out onto the street.

I don’t personally have much experience with apartments, but in my experience with living spaces in general, I think this place is very nice and roomy. None of the rooms are too small and I had no trouble unpacking my things. Overall I am thoroughly pleased with my living space!

We are located on the first floor, so I don’t have to take many stairs to venture out into the streets of Milan. I can’t complain about the location of the complex, either. I’m half a mile away from my ATM, just a block or two away from the metro station, and right around the corner from a supermarket. In addition to that, there are food shops and bars lined up and down our street as well as those branching off of ours, thought thankfully it doesn’t get loud at night!

So far, things have been shaping up nicely. Each day I have been able to push myself out of my comfort zone a little bit more and be brave. After being in Peru for a couple years, I’m used to experiencing things that breach those safe comfort zone walls, so it comes as no surprise to me to have to do those sorts of things again.

So, sitting here in the kitchen, eating dinner and enjoying a crisp cold beverage at the end of my first Saturday, I feel I have done all right. I’ve stumbled and bumbled my way through numerous situations, but I’ve emerged out the other side braver and more experienced. If I had to choose just a couple words to describe my week, they would be bravery and familiarity for sure.

V

The Fire Abates

Buon pomeriggio!

All right, folks, it's that time again. Time for a summer update (the penultimate one, in fact - hence Tarzan in disbelief and shock). I have certainly gotten a few things done (mainly books) since the last update in July, which is satisfying. I am one book shy of having the list finished (The Return of the King), and at the last update, it should be marked off the list. I am steadily getting through it, whereas The Fellowship and The Two Towers I was able to get through pretty quickly. This week has been fairly busy and finishing writing this sequel-prequel thing has been the priority. I plan to have that done before the first day of classes as well, but cross your fingers for me. I only have ten days until I zip out of here and to the Noke. Crazy, right? Summer is rapidly coming to a close.

Books:

Inheritance (of the Inheritance Cycle by Paolini) (5/11)

The Girl who Played with Fire (5/20)

Man's Search for Meaning (5/25)

The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (5/31)

City of Bones (6/7)

City of Ashes (6/14)

City of Glass (6/23)

Clockwork Angel (7/15)

Clockwork Prince (7/20)

Clockwork Princess (7/25)

The Fellowship of the Ring (8/6)

The Two Towers (8/9)

The Return of the King (28.8% done!)

Movies/shows:

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (4/28-5/08)

Wreck-it-Ralph (5/07)

Cats Don't Dance (re-watch) (5/14)

Dinosaurs: We're Back! (5/14)

Road to El Dorado (re-watch) (5/20)

The Fountain (5/22)

Saving Private Ryan (5/24)

Swan Princess (5/31)

Swan Princess: Escape from Castle Mountain (5/31)

Swan Princess: The Mystery of the Enchanted Treasure

 (for old time's sake; I was obsessed with these movies as a child!) (6/1)

The Road (6/8)

500 Days of Summer (6/9)

The Possession (6/13)

Matrix Trilogy (re-watch) (6/15)

Avengers (rewatch) (7/2)

Phantom of the Opera (rewatch) (7/3)

Thor (7/3)

Bachelorette (7/4)

Mean Girls (rewatch) (7/4)

Tarzan (rewatch) (7/5)

Despicable Me (7/5)

Déjà vu (7/7)

The Island (7/10)

Hell's Kitchen [season 10] (7/7 – 7/16)

American Psycho (7/17)

Tron Legacy (7/26)

Elektra (7/27)

Pretty Woman (7/27)

Legion (8/6)

Fried Green Tomatoes (8/10)

Games:

Bioshock (6/3 – 3:55 PM to 11:58 PM = 8 hour completion)

Halo: Reach (6/4 – 9 hrs: 16 mins: 48 seconds on one day)
Bioshock Infinite (7/17 – around 8 hours for completion)
Halo: Combat Evolved
Halo 2
Halo 3

Serious:

Revise the living daylights out of first book in trilogy (5/21)

Outline second book (6/28)

Write second book (7/1 -    ) [I’m fifty thousand words in, with a bit more story to tell!]

Well that's it for me, it seems. Off to drink this strawberry-banana-blueberry smoothie I just made - and it's one of the frozen kind, so it's fresh and refreshing (:

I shall return to update again in ten days or so, unless I have something else that I simply must share between now and then.

Ta!

V