I should be reading, BUT...

First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all! Wishing all the best for 2011 for my followers as well as those who just happen to stop by at random.

Now, enough with the formalities, already.

It was about time I changed the layout of my blog. The pink background suddenly became a little too daunting, to be honest. However, I'm still sticking to the tree theme. Might change it from time to time according to my mood and/or the season. Anyway, this one was white, clean and relaxing. Me like.

Apparently this should be the time wherein I make a review of 2010, so here goes:

2010 for me was a time with major revelations about myself, matters concerning my loved ones, the future and other people of my acquaintance. I'm tempted to go as far as to say that 2010 was one huge epiphany, really, but that would perhaps draw it a little too far. One huge milestone was that of me finally reaching my long-standing goal of becoming a teacher. The dream that I'd had ever since I was a child suddenly became a reality to me. The wait, as it were, was over. That in itself was a rather strange realization. Mind you, I think there is a part of me that still can't really believe that I've reached that level already. Nonetheless, it's right there on my diploma and grade transcript. It's just the same feeling I had when I completed my last exams for Senior High. A strange sensation that it was all over and that I'd done all that was required of me and that I was to head off to some (not-too-distant) shore to hopefully reach new goals. Now that I've reached them - well, almost all of them - it's almost like some kind of emptiness there. There's nothing major left to strive towards, in a sense. Sure, I do have my exams for my master's and my master's thesis, but to me that isn't entirely the same. I belong to a profession now. I am a qualified teacher. And there is no other word in my vocabulary that can describe the sensation I still feel inside other than just the mere monosyllabic adjective "strange". Because that's exactly what it is.

Throughout that process I also learnt the importance of just not giving a d*** about certain things. Heh, actually a lot of things. Neuroticism, sulking and over-analyzing is not necessarily beneficial in all cases. Being an ambitious perfectionist is an advantage, though it should not be taken to extreme lengths, or else the consequences might turn out worse than expected. Just leave it and let nature take its own course. Or if you don't want certain things to happen, then don't make an effort to make them happen just because other people want them to. You are the protagonist in your own life, so act only in ways that you can justify for yourself (and for the Man Upstairs, if you are inclined to turn to Him from time to time).

Speaking of the Man Upstairs, I believe I've also grown somewhat more reflected in my approach to Him. I've grown more accustomed to letting Him speak to me through silence and meditation, but as with riding a bike, this takes a bit of time to learn properly. Let's just say that the handlebars are still wobbling. Nonetheless, over the years I've grown fond of meditation in its different forms.

I also realized that progress is a benefit, but that it shouldn't bear the entire weight at the cost of ignoring the past and one's roots. This partially touches on what I wrote two paragraphs above, but also on other aspects of life. Denying one's roots means denying part of one's self. After all, the past contributes in defining you as a person, whether you like it or not. How one can pluck up the courage to do that at the snap of a finger is beyond me. Obviously this can be defended in certain cases, but in other cases this would require a great deal of thought. As regards the cases I have in mind, how one can do that as if it were just a matter of changing clothes - or just a whim - is to me a rather strange approach. Sometimes I feel rather old when I say these things... Guess I probably am an old soul...

Nonetheless, some things just cannot be changed. I will probably remain a scatterbrain for the rest of my life (sorry, people...), but I'm working as hard as I can on softening the blow, as it were. Which perhaps might account for my seemingly perpetual neuroticism. :)

Furthermore, there are some things that I don't want to change either, like my idea of having fun and being positive, random and geeky (or with a slightly concealed, yet still blatantly condescending air, "being childish"). Call me naive if you will, but I don't want to mope around all the time like so many people seem to do nowadays. When I look at several people my age (and older) in shops or in the streets it sometimes makes me wonder if this is how people define being an adult; the more you sulk, the more mature you are and the more accredited you should be because of it. A long time ago I learnt one of life's biggest lessons the hard way. This is already a well-established cliché, but I'll say it anyway: Live each day as if it were your last. Don't waste every inhale and exhale, every blink, every moment with complaining about life. Turn it around into something positive. Sometimes it may not seem as if fate has dealt you a good card in life - and ok, so you won't get that royal flush - but that gives you no reason to continue being negative and/or look down on anyone else just because you have a certain inclination towards a half-empty cup! Count your blessings and you'll discover that you're richer than you'd originally thought. If you still find reason to complain, shut up. There's more than enough negative energy in this world and there's no need to feed the fire any further.

Still, be sure to not forget those who clearly need you. Stay with people who require your aid, either by your physical presence with them, or through other means. After all the natural disasters that last year brought with it, this is a clear sign that we're extremely co-dependent. Remaining family members of deceased loved ones still need support, prayers and aid. People suffering from illness, be it temporary or long-term, likewise.

Hokai. That's enough vagueness from me. In other words, 2010 has been quite a year, really. I reckon it has been a year filled with experiences, both good and bad. Still, the idea of starting off yet another year, clean and crisp, yet to be filled with new experiences and new ways of making amends, is comforting. Most likely, it  is probably so for most people. As for those who see no end to it, you are still in our hearts and minds. In correspondence with the co-dependent nature of people, we will continue to fight with you for a better everyday life.

So, in the hope of a better 2011, I sign off with one of my all-time favorite songs and all-time favorite music vids by one of my all-time favorite musicians. I need not introduce him.



Signing off (weehee),
Elise

Speechless.

There are few people out there that can really spellbind me with their writing, but I believe Adam Young is one of these selected few. Whenever I read his blog posts I am nothing short of mesmerized. His way of describing his emotions and happenings in his life is nothing short of immaculate. (With the odd typo here and there, however, but with that skill of writing, who cares?!) Reading his posts is almost like diving into his mind and exploring the gorgeous things that are going on inside of it - and what a beautiful mind it is (excuse the movie reference; that was not intended).

He a devout Christian, but this reason for me adoring his writing is far outweighed by his beautifully described musings. He has the ability reserved only a few to not touch on a subject and barely scratch the emotional surface of it, but rather to touch on a subject and hold on to the emotion, the episode, the image, for a much longer time than many others. When you think that all words have been used and the topic has been exhausted, you're suddenly served another platter of delightful collocations, metaphors and other imagery.

This is one of those blogs wherein you're left with a fuzzy feeling in your stomach and a sense of serenity whenever you're done reading one of his posts; especially after having read one of his more profound gems. (Because that's exactly what they are - gems.) It is always so intriguingly satisfying to experience the unfurling of the story he writes about in your head. As if it were a bud slowly opening up and becoming a beautiful flower which you cannot see before you've read the entire post. Color me overly poetic if thou wishest, but I'm truly fascinated by his writing skills. It's almost as if I wish he were to write a novel of some sorts to get all of this indescribably beautiful writing on paper and stuck between two covers.

How refreshingly reassuring it is that there are people like him out there. Guess this indicates that there is, in fact, hope for this poor wretched world of ours. That there is a light - however faint - at the end of the all-too-known tunnel.


Signing off (mesmerized),
Elise

Procrastination

Think I've used that word as a title for a previous blog entry, although I'm not quite that sure. I might be relating this to something else rather than just a mere post.

Things are ok. Gotten good results for 2/3 mandatory assignments. Now trying to write up the final assignment, i.e. the description of my Master's thesis project. But I just can't be bothered at the moment. I've already done some research into articles and studies I can refer to and read up a little on them, but the energy level willingness to do anything just isn't there. In other words, once again I experience the well-known urge to procrastinate.

I'm sure you all know that "procrastination is the enemy of time" (or at least I think that's what my mom usually says), but in a sense there's something quite nice about focusing on something else rather than just your academic passion(s). Just like today, which I intend to make into a "sewing day" wherein I'll be folding pajama pants and... eh... something else. I must admit that this kind of fits with the whole housewife concept of the 50s and 60s. All I need is just a polka-dot dress, an apron, cat-eye glasses and red lipstick, and I'm there. :) And to be honest, at the moment I don't mind either!

Lately I've been totally immersed in this period (post-Baseballs concert syndrome, a.k.a. PBC syndrome). Not only did this period involve the reconstruction of the gut-wrenchingly immense damages after WWII, but everybody just seemed to have such a happy-go-lucky attitude to life, perhaps to make amends for the bleak war years. And then at the end of the 1960s the world lost its innocence; or should I say that that the youth lost its innocence. We were finally forced to see the world as it is and we were completely disgusted by what we saw. Again. But this time it was not caused by a deranged madman as had happened just 20 years prior to this time. It was caused by a supposedly helpful, generous, good and decent world power.* And perhaps as a consequence of this (including several other factors, obv.), the youth had a fervent need to escape from their lives. Enter hallucinogenic drugs, psychedelia and Oriental religions to find something to cling to in the midst of all the pessimism and disappointment of life.

Looking at footage from the infamous Woodstock music festival of '69 I find I laugh out loud when I hear their opinions on several issues. The naiveté of people back in those days is nothing short of risible. They seem so lost; damsels in distress - even the guys. If they really were fitting representatives of the youth culture back in those days, let's just say that the evolution from that until how we are today is nothing short of impressive (and fortunate, to say the least).

Anyway, these are just random thoughts not to be taken seriously (that is, if the reader may be offended of these general musings). Now, to ramble off to watch James Bond... One of those classic ones... :)

Signing off (sashaying over to telly),
Elise

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*Mind you, I do not adhere to those people who generally despise the US. Sure, the whole issue with the US monitoring/supervising areas outside their embassies in Norway, Denmark and Sweden is extremely frowned upon. At the moment, at least, media focus has been on this, which in turn has generated a general sense of disdain. However, if we look at the more general picture, if it hadn't been for their intervention in several global conflicts fewer of them would have been resolved. Color me naive if you wish, but if you have the means to help others, by all means do so - but an elaboration on this will be reserved for a future post.

*awkward silence*

Men are confusing. I'm sure they think the same way about us, though.

A couple of months ago the electricity was all out in our building and I'd ventured out in the hallway, as I heard some other people talking there. I talked to one of my neighbors there and we sort of had the same interests and shared the same kind of randomness. He was interested in watching "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", so I lent him my DVD. He also asked me if he could come over some day for a cup of tea or something, so I said "Yeah, sure" and left it at that. This was in September. Now it's November and I've only just now gotten back my DVD and still no sign of that coffee or tea thing. You who know me reasonably well, know that I am an old-fashioned gal. In other words, I strongly believe that the guy should make the first move instead of me, be it in terms of a friendship - as was this case - or something "more substantial", if you will. Not a peep from his part for over 2 months. I even went as far as to ring his doorbell several times (when I hadn't gotten my DVD back). He himself had asked me to do so, but there was no answer whatsoever. I even left plucked up the courage to stick a post-it note yesterday on his front door to ask him if there was supposed to be any get-together. The note's still hanging there and I haven't heard a peep from him. As in so many times before, there appears to be this infamous awkwardness hovering between our front doors when it comes to getting in touch with each other.

This is something totally beyond me. The few times we'd talked together, he himself expressed the ridiculousness of not getting in touch, as we only live 5 steps from each other. Yet he still doesn't get in touch, at least as far as I know. So my question is: Why does it have to be so difficult to converse with members of the other sex? Why should it be so difficult to initiate a strictly platonic friendship with a guy? Why is there such an insane amount of awkwardness in this process? Is there anything that can be done at all to prevent or remove any kind of tension? Again, why is this process so difficult?! I mean, I can talk to them and strike up some excellent conversations - there's no problem in that department - but ultimately it seems as if there's always this kind of strange cloddishness in the air between us. And that's what bugs the living daylights out of me.

Furthermore, if he didn't mean what he'd said or if he'd changed his mind during these past few months, it would be nice to actually be informed about this instead of leaving it all hanging out there like a dangling participle. If he doesn't want a friendship, that's entirely fine by me, but I'd appreciate being informed instead of just sitting there wondering if it was something I'd said. Heck, I stuck a freakin' post-it note to his door. If he doesn't want to knock on my door and tell it to me straight, he could at least have had the decency to respond through another post-it note. Just saying. Bah.


Signing off (inelegantly),
Elise


(Edit: He answered my post-it note and showed up.)

The missing link (pun intended)

Just finished watching "The Linda McCartney Story" (again). I must say it's quite amazing, really, to see two people who have such an incredible connection. I mean, you don't need a movie to establish the fact that Paul and Linda had one incredible relationship and such an immensely beautiful love for one another (and for their children, for that matter), but watching interviews and movies of this sort kinda makes it all the more... well, alive, in a sense. I mean, they were indeed soul mates and best friends; the latter especially being the case after the Beatles broke up and Paul was at rock bottom. They were so similar in so many ways: idealists, passionate animal rights activists, vegetarians (obv.), artists in their own right and I bet great parents to their kids as well. Theirs is a relationship I truly admire. Obviously besides that of my parents, which is the epitome of all successful and tightly-knit marriages of my knowledge (of course I'm biased).

I love watching people and sensing such a connection between them. A platonic connection is one thing, but this is a completely different ballgame. Sensing this kind of unified vibe from them, yet not bordering over to the tacky and lovey-dovey mush, now that's nothing short of awesome. And reassuring, mind you. Reassuring in the sense that there is hope for mankind.

I have a tendency to fluctuate a bit when it comes to watching the news. Sometimes I simply have to watch it like there's no other option, but other times (like these past few days) I simply can't stand it. There's too much negative energy being released in this world. If it isn't a coverage on war and/or a conflict involving physical violence, then there's rape, mugging, corruption, blackmail and insincerity. I tell you, there's too much of this crap. Way too much.

Those are the times when I'm reminded of something Elizabeth Bennet once said (*sigh* P&P again...): "The more I see of the world, the more I am dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense." *scoffs* You and me both.

Yes, I realize I do sound like some old hippie when I say all of this, but I really lose faith in humanity sometimes. Just like in times like these. Ergo we need to focus on all the good stuff; acknowledge the bad stuff happening and try to do something about it, but not let it get to our heads. Or else we'll all go mental. So focus on the little things; even the tiniest specks of goodness that can brighten up your day whenever you feel like there's no hope in the world. In a larger scale, perhaps look at the people you admire and try to change your life accordingly to -- pardon the cliché -- make the world a better place in your own little way.

Ok. Rambling again. Not sure if that many people out there will be bothered reading yet another long sequence of nonsense, but just needed to get this out. Bet several of you readers know what I'm talking about.

Watching this movie kinda made me a little envious of the relationship that Paul and Linda had. My initial reaction, now as after the first few times I'd watched this movie, was one of sympathy for Paul, really. Looking at how his life has been after his wife died, you kinda start thinking that these women he's been seeing are sort of thought to be compensations for Linda. They're not at all immaculate, but at least he might believe that they show a small reflection of his late wife. Hence why he clings to them. However, the most overriding reason would probably be that he can't stand feeling alone. Now that his kids have all grown up, many of which having families of their own, he is searching for another "post-soul-mate" lifelong companion again. Hence why he remarries. Then when the relationship starts getting a bit iffy, he/she/they file for divorce and he's left alone again. And continues searching. I'm probably not the only one who's got this theory.

Anyway. A slight digression there. As I said, I kind of envy the relationship Linda and Paul had. This was the following reaction I had. Missing having that connection with someone. Having one with your parents, friends, and relatives is one thing, but sometimes you kinda wonder how you're going to turn out in the end. I am a firm believer in that there's one person out there who's meant for you. I believe that God's plan for us is to give us a series of individual challenges here on Earth and when we pass a certain number or kind of them, we may be entitled to get to know this person with whom we're going to spend the remainder of our lives here on Earth -- and meet more challenges; this time together. Either that, or be a spinster/bachelor (cf. in my case, be the "weird cat lady"), or serve Him. Whatever He chooses.

I have my moments wherein I start thinking about where my "mystery man" is, my "missing link", if you will; if he's wondering where I am, what he's doing, or even if he exists. Or if he does exist, if he ever wonders if I exist. I eventually reason out that if he does exist, we already have a special subliminal subconscious connection; that our souls communicate with each other even though we ourselves are unaware of the other's existence or response. Cute thought? Probably. Naive? Not in my mind, it ain't. As most of us already know, there are more things between Heaven and Earth, so why should not this be one of them? We are still quite unaware of the mechanisms of the stirrings of the soul, so again, why not? I've already gotten way past the phase wherein I was simply in love with being in love. It's a long process, but I've started to see past that now and really focus on the inherent connection.

So yeah, I'm still constructing my future at the moment and I'm still waiting per se, but I've asked Him (and him) that he not enter into my life just yet. Not until everything is settled. This thing has to be put on hold at the moment. And if I'm not wrong, he probably feels the same way, too. It's all up to what He wants, though. I'm kind of excited to find out.

Anyway, enough rambling, more sleep. "But before we go" (Kermit the frog revisited), I thought I'd share one of my all-time favorite songs with you -- coincidentally being Paul's homage to his soul mate.





Signing off,
Elise