It's Been a While

But hey, happy new year!

One of my friends recently (like two months ago) posted about how she wasn't going to stop blogging even though it was hard. Even though she had nothing profound to share. (find it here (and then stay and read more because it's a really good blog)) Obviously that motivated me. A lot. (not really but hey, whatever)

That aside, I'm back because I finally got on the computer for non-writing, non-school purposes and figured I should do something about my blog.

As a catch-up, I did Inktober (with gel pens because I'm lame like that) and it was awesome. I had a lot of fun trying to think of things to draw each day. I mostly stuck with the prompt list, but I'm pretty happy with some of the variations I did (some of those variations turned into Christmas presents, so it was a win-win).

Then it was on to November and the dreaded NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month, for those of you who don't live under rocks and give up social life for the month of november). I actually not only hit the word count, but finished a novel (!!!!!!!!) In the past, I've finished a novel (under the word count) and hit the word count (without getting close to finishing the stupid thing) so that was a really big achievement. I also managed to balance NaNo with schoolwork (I don't even know, don't ask me) and finished one of my last few courses.

December was actually relaxing, if emotionally traumatizing. By the time we got to Thanksgiving, I was kind of in the home stretch. It was all or nothing. So I decided to start reading Way of Kings by the fabulous Brandon Sanderson. More on that in probably the next blog post. I finished up two courses and attempted to low-key chill until Christmas.

It mostly worked.

Until I remembered that Christmas was a week away and I hadn't actually finished a number of Christmas presents.

Don't procrastinate on Christmas presents.

Anyway, that brings us to now.

As I'm looking ahead to 2018, my hope of graduating college this year is approaching achievable. This brings with it a whole host of exciting things (and a whole lot of trepidation). I have three courses to complete and then my final thesis (which may see some development through blog posts since I have no idea what I'm going to do for it O_O). Then I'm done.

I mean.

Like. Done. Done done done done done done.
Finished with school.

Then it's on to find a job.

I don't know what 2018 holds for me, but I'm excited to see. And terrified. But for the time being, just excited.

Belonging

What does it mean to belong? What creates that feeling in us? The feeling of "this is my home -- this is where I'm most comfortable -- where I know I'm supposed to be". The feeling of absolute rightness.

How does it happen?

When somebody says home, there are two places that come to mind -- neither of them are my physical home (not to say that I dislike it, it's just not the first place that comes to mind).

The first and immediate one is the Bell Center at the MidAmerica Nazarene University where the annual One Year Adventure Novel Summer Workshop is held. The way the light comes in through the windows and warms the tiles and lights up the brown paneling. The hustle and bustle as people group and talk and hug and laugh. The way the individual groups can suddenly turn into a crowd of joy. The way OYAN makes it home.

I don't know that many people there, but I don't have nearly as much social anxiety. Usually, around that many people, I find myself reduced to a nervous puddle in the corner. At the summer workshop, I am happy -- I belong.

People say TeenPact is a similar community, but I'm not sure. I love the program and the people are wonderful, but I've never felt like I belong. I've never wanted to stay in touch with people from TeenPact (sorry, guys!). Maybe it's because between my anxiety and the rigorousness of the program I find myself functioning in a state of exhaustion that prohibits me from even wanting to attempt to socialize. Maybe it's because I don't know most of the people period. Long story short, I've never belonged in the TeenPact community.

OYAN may exhaust me, but it thrills me and excites me at the same time. There's something freeing in a community of people who all understand social awkwardness. Shared pain and shared interests draw us together. It's easier to talk to people, to relate to people. Even then, it doesn't explain how I can be almost extroverted, drawing energy from being around people. Almost.

There's one other place that I think of when someone says home: My dojang. For whatever reason, the families that are there now are a community.

Maybe it's because many of them are there almost every day.

Maybe it's something else.

But whether I'm sitting on the bleachers or working on the red and blue mats of the ring, I know I belong. We laugh, we cry, we hit each other -- we're a big happy family.

I don't know why that sense of belonging happens. It just does.

It's wonderful and magical and I wish I could feel it more often -- but the rarity of the sense that there is nowhere else in the world that I'm supposed be makes it all the more special and worth treasuring.

Growing Up

....means maturity?

What does maturity even mean? Is it a mindset? Something that naturally happens? Is it deeper than that?

The online Merriam-Webster dictionary defines maturity as follows:

the quality or state of being mature

Of course, this leads to an obvious next question; what is maturity? Again, consulting the Merriam-Webster dictionary:

having or showing the mental and emotional qualities of an adult

This seems to be getting nowhere. What does it mean to adult? Merriam-Webster defined "adult" as follows:

mature and sensible: not childish

Wow. Well, that went full circle on me. Time to consult another source. What does our culture think it means to adult? I consulted the Urban Dictionary to find my answer and came up with the following:

A person who has stopped growing at both ends and is now growing in the middle.

Humorous, but not quite what I was hoping for. I scrolled further down the page in search of something deeper. I was not disappointed.

A depressed child. Adults have the notion that juveniles need to suffer. Only when they have suffered enough to wipe out most of their joyous spirits and innocence are they staid enough to be considered 'Adult'.

The others were interesting, to be sure, but not nearly as capturing as this one. Also profanity. So, y'know.

That being said, is that truly what it means to adult? To be a grumpy, depressed, lifeless being? Does adulting mean that you become a dementor, sucking the life out of others?

I mean, that kinda sucks. I don't want to be a dementor.

Here's the thing. People tell me I have adult qualities, that I'm "mature" and "responsible". I just tell them that they don't know me very well.

They haven't seen me avoiding work. They haven't seen me missing deadlines.

They see me as a role model for their children (if their kids turn out anything like me, they're doomed).

I have a childhood friend who has been an adult since the day she was born. Never in trouble, not really into fist-fights/hair pulling/pinching/teasing like I was. Her sense of humor finally emerged publicly couple years ago, shocking many.

Our families are friends, so we interacted a lot as kids. Throughout the years, her siblings and my siblings (myself included) always looked at her and saw her as the ideal adult. We saw her as "this is what we look forward to -- this is the ideal adulting".

We probably thought it would just magically happen (if it didn't then we'd failed and our families would hate us or something).

Now I'm a legal adult, her younger brother is almost a legal adult... and there has been no magical transformation.

But that's okay. Because adulting is different than what we thought.

It doesn't mean perfection. It doesn't mean soul-sucking. It doesn't even mean boring. It doesn't mean a whole lot, actually.

Yes, there's responsibility involved with getting older. Bills have to be paid, the body needs to be fed, jobs need to happen... As we get older, we have to accept these responsibilities. I think it's part of the maturing process. But that doesn't mean that the fun in life is gone.

Our Tae-Kwon-Do Grandmaster is... a dork. Don't tell him I said that. Or call him that to his face. But he really is. However, he understands that there is a time and place for everything.

If he's instructing, he's very serious. On the flip side, he also enjoys hanging out with us juvenile delinquents in the making and seriously gets into card games like Slapjack (he's super competitive like the rest of us, so games are almost like war because he'll do almost anything to win). He'll throw Hi-Chews at us, toe-pinch us, and tease my little brother to no end -- when the situation allows him to goof off like that. But if he needs to be serious, he'll be very serious and adult-y.

I'm going to take a page from his book as I continue to grow up and mature.

There's a time and place for everything -- especially fun.

Live joyfully, have fun.

Thoughts on Thailand: Worship

Warning:
Church speak ahead!

Our group of five people went to Thailand to serve our brothers and sisters in Christ there.

//end church speak

Basically, our little group was invited by a missionary family that we know and support to come on a short term mission trip to Thailand. We would just be working with a local church's youth group and visiting other Christians in Bangkok.

This allowed us to look at how other people worship. 

Something that really stuck with me was how some of the other Christians worshiped. It wasn't that we could understand them -- in fact, they were singing a Psalm, something that I've never done -- but the emotion that came through was so beautiful.

The family that was worshiping had been through things that I've never dreamed of. Yet when they sang, they sang about how good God was and they conveyed the belief in their hearts into tangible emotions. There was an undeniable joy in their faces as they raised their hands to heaven and praised God.

The greatest joy comes through the greatest trials. They had great joy and they were beautiful.

The Thai church was different as well. It was there that I remembered that worship is work. They worked to worship. It wasn't just a sing-along, something that I've noticed I do a lot. It was passionate, it was let us praise our God because He is good, it had energy, it had life, it was wonderful.

There were some songs we recognized and others we didn't. During the youth camp, we struggled to learn "This is the Day" in Thai. I don't remember anything but the joy that came with being able to sing with them in their language. It was the day that the Lord had made, and we rejoiced and were glad. Upon further thought, it was work -- especially as I struggled to stumble through the unfamiliar words and sounds -- but there was a joy in the work.

That's what worship is. It's work, but there is an overwhelming, beautiful joy in the work.

Thoughts on Thailand: Culture Shows and Elephant Rides

One of the things that stuck out to me the most was our main tourist-y day. That was the day we took to do a bunch of tourist things, which included visiting the Rose Garden (there were no roses there). While we were there, all of us got to ride an elephant.

Well, I say got to. I'd also like to say that I was kind of forced into it. I hate heights and elephants aren't exactly small. Also I dislike doing new things. I've ridden a camel before and I didn't even like that, so I was pretty sure I wasn't going to think much of an elephant ride. (I didn't)

While we were there, we also went saw an elephant show and a culture show. It was... an experience.

The elephant show was... entertaining, I suppose. I mean, everyone enjoyed watching the elephants do tricks. I couldn't stop thinking about what the training had looked like. (I also have a tendency to be melodramatic and I don't know if my imagination was running away with me) I also couldn't stop thinking about the fact that animals in captivity often die sooner than their free counterparts. There was one part where the elephant was instructed to smile and everyone laughed -- I couldn't stop thinking about what they would have done if this were a human. In my mind, it was a little like the one scene in The Little Drummer Boy, where Aaron's smile is painted on.

He is far from happy, yet he looks as if he is all right. The crowd loves it and the empathetic viewers are sickened.

It shouldn't have bothered me that much, but it did.

As if to add insult to injury, we went to the culture show after that. It was informative and nearly as degrading. It was, in all actuality, a very good introduction to Thai culture. However, I couldn't stop thinking about the elephant show and wondering if this troupe of actors was anything similar to a circus (which tended to be a pretty awful thing to be part of).

It was a long day and I still don't know how much of what I thought about that day is actually important. But it did impact me and I know that the thoughts I had throughout the afternoon will stick with me for a very long time.

Thoughts on Thailand: International Travel

I dislike international travel. Very much.

That being said, I love airports. This was no different. Airports tend to be little cultural centers and it was fun to be able to look around each airport that we were in. There's really not much to say about the L.A. airport. It was a typical airport, although on the way home, the terminal was a bit small and didn't offer much in terms of entertainment for people who's flights got delayed. Also, going out, there was a frozen yogurt stand right around the corner from our gate but they were literally, I kid you not, out of frozen yogurt. Completely out. It was awful.

Narita was probably my favorite, mostly because that was where we spent most of our time (again, not counting the delay in LAX). On our way out, I walked around with my best friend and watched part of a kimono lesson (there was literally a space in the airport that was set aside to teach people traditional Japanese customs, from tea to kimonos). It was also interesting to see all the makeup stores. In general, it felt like being in a mall, only with gates and announcements coming in over the intercom. Also, if you think Americans are obsessed with beauty, you've never met Asians. If Americans are obsessed, Asians are fanatical and it shows in their advertisements and posters. On the way back, my bosom friend (hah reference) and I went souvenir shopping. We didn't get much, but the joy is in the looking.

The Bangkok airport was no less interesting. We were too tired to really note anything until customs, when we were standing in line and literally the only thing you could see were the posters and banners that were both welcoming and warning of Buddha land. The bathrooms had upright toilets and I couldn't have been more grateful for that. The other thing worth mentioning is the fact that there was a 7-11 in the airport. It feels like all of Bangkok lives on 7-11 with how common they are. On the way back, we spent a bit of time souvenir shopping and there was the best little store with the softest plush animals.

Of course, our darling little Sunport has to be mentioned as well. It's always fun going to the airport when you're leaving, just because you know you're going somewhere and I, at least, get a thrill just from that. But words cannot describe how relieved I was to get back to our quaint little airport. Again, I feel like airports are cultural hubs and if I ever doubt myself, I just have to go look at our Sunport. In my mind, it practically screams New Mexico. All the little souvenir shops have something turquoise or other distinctly New Mexican flavored items. Most airports have t-shirts that scream love for that place -- those are not what catch my attention in our airport (mostly because there aren't a lot of t-shirts being sold). At the same time, our airport is just... different. The color scheme is closer to turquoise and beige as opposed to the stark white of most other airports. There really isn't a lot going on, but there's enough to keep a person occupied for a little while. I always love flying back into Sunport because as soon as I step foot in the airport, I know I'm home.

In case I wasn't clear at the beginning, I love airports.

I hate international travel. I have long legs, which makes for uncomfortable seating. I also hate sitting for long periods of time. And airplane food is the worst. Something else I learned is that one can only listen to Les Miserables so many times in a row before it starts getting really depressing really fast. The movies are all right, but when combined with the long periods of sitting, it gets really old really fast. I dislike planes and this only cemented that fact. Passports, customs forms... it was an experience, filling out paperwork in Thailand and L.A. Also, getting through customs. That was... exciting. It was different and I wasn't exactly appreciative of the experience at the time.
Just thinking about now is making me borderline uncomfortable, actually. I really don't like being constrained to one seat/position. It's uncomfortable and I value my freedom of movement. I did enjoy being a human pillow, so there's that.

If I could, I would do the international travel without the plane bit. But since I can't, and I did enjoy the trip, I suppose the plane is just a necessary evil.

Thoughts on Thailand: Culture Shock (or the Lack Thereof)

This summer, I got a chance to go to Thailand with my closest friends. It's been a couple months since the trip, but I recently got reminded of everything that we did there.

I figured the first thing I'd talk about was the culture shock. I was expecting it to be so much worse than it actually was. The worst that happened was I reverted to not quite eating everything that was put in front of me. For me, the most overwhelming thing was being somewhere for an extended period of time where I didn't understand anything going on around me. I'm used to that in small amounts because I go to a Chinese church and my family tends to stop in at Asian stores every now and then. I know there will be things that I don't understand and that's all right -- that's just how it is. Also, the undulations of the Thai language is slightly different from Chinese and it threw me off for a bit as well.

Outdoor markets are so similar to some of our Chinese stores here -- the only difference is that the outdoor markets were outside, literally on the streets of Bangkok. It's also slightly less sanitary (again, they're literally on the streets of Bangkok) than in a store here, but I think I was expecting it to be worse than it was. Otherwise, the smells, the whole raw dead animal carcasses, and the flopping fish were all fairly normal. It might have helped that I can space out when I'm half asleep -- and I was definitely still half asleep.

We also visited shopping centers (malls) while there. Our group stayed in the cultural part of the center (it's like a boardwalk type place, like the Plaza in Santa Fe where you walk by vendors who are selling turquoise jewelry and the like -- things that are unique to New Mexico) when we weren't eating, but we did pass stores that made it seem like we were in a mall at home. We even went to a Starbucks while there! The shopping center seems to present a picture of Bangkok in miniature -- modernity walking alongside tradition. Even just the outdoor markets showed this, one of them sharing the same space as a 7-11 which was sitting across the street from Victorian style apartment buildings. It was intriguing to me just as a person (I mean, I spent most of the time in San Francisco looking up -- they have Gothic style buildings that house McDonalds, okay? The idea is just so captivating for me) and I spent a lot of our travel time (driving from place to place, or going down the river in a boat) watching the buildings go by and noting how so many different styles could all sit so close together.

It was almost nice not drowning in white people (no offense against any of you white people). I literally have no filter between my mouth and brain when I'm tired, so on the way back through customs in L.A. I probably offended somebody by commenting on the plethora of white people. It also helped that we didn't really do the normal touristy stuff, so we didn't come in contact with a lot of white people (we ran into couple crowds of white people when we visited general tourist sites, but since that wasn't our focus, we didn't spend a lot of time in those areas).

We stayed in Bangkok for the whole trip (if we ever left it, I wouldn't know) and I am grateful for that. Our first layover in the Narita airport in Tokyo, Japan left me a bit wiser on the use of squatty potties. If you don't know what that is, look it up. While Thailand has incorporated traditional Western toilets, most people there are actually still more comfortable with said squatty potties. In Narita, I ended up using the squatty potty stall. I wouldn't recommend it as it turned into a rather memorable experience. The rest of our trip was much less stressful as the places we visited all had standard upright toilets (even if they were questionably sanitary).

The humidity was very bearable. People had spent the two weeks leading up to the trip warning me about the humidity but I found it to be tolerable. It was not unlike being in Tallahassee, Florida (I was there two years ago, the first week of August for TeenPact Congress). Air conditioning is fantastic and I would hate living there without it, but we were able to balance our time outside with our time inside and I (obviously) survived the ordeal. Yes, I would avoid going outside if at all possible, but it isn't a terrible experience either (I thought I was going to melt into a puddle or something from all the dire predictions people were giving me).

The food is fantastic. We avoided all Thai spice (which is good because I can't handle any level of spiciness). Even without spice, Thai food has a different flavor to it. It was different from anything I'd had before (flavor wise, not so much food wise). Almost every day meant something different and an experience that we wouldn't forget. Oddly enough, the shared cooking adventure we all had was when our team decided to make tortillas so we could have soft taco/burrito type things for dinner. You would think that coming from New Mexico, we would be able to, but nope. We all learned how to make tortillas in Thailand. That was an adventure all on its own.

All in all, I'm not sure there was a lot of culture shock going on in my head. It was new, yes, but it was also an okay kind of new. Like going to the Grand Canyon. It's different, but it's not like it completely throws me off and rattles me to my core.

On Flat Tires

Two weeks ago, I left a friend's house on a Sunday evening and promptly ran over a curb. The driver's side front tire popped and I flattened a hubcap as I drove to a nearby Whole Foods parking lot. Thankfully, there were friends there who knew how to change a spare (I now know how to change a spare thanks to them).
It was an adventure, standing in the middle of a Whole Foods parking lot and getting drenched in the downpour. The whole debacle also took a lot longer than it should have, mostly because I hadn't known the extent of the damage but the way the car was reacting had been freaking me out, so I parked on a slight slope (word for the wise, don't ever do that). I hated that entire time and (as it was a rather recent event) I'm still trying to get over the mental block I have towards driving. The entire time we were standing in the parking lot, I needed people to be there with me. I needed the emotional support because I was freaking out so badly.

The following Sunday, my Sunday School class talked about the parable of the Good Samaritan and if we'd ever had an experience like that, where we were completely reliant on the help of another person and it was their kindness that saved the day. The follow-up question was a good one as well, as we were asked if that experience had taught us anything, even if it just meant being compassionate to those in a similar situation.
I had needed the kindness in the parking lot because, again, I had no idea what the first step to changing a flat tire was. Their kindness turned a disaster into a miserably happy memory in my mind.

Thursday rolls around and we discover that some friends got a flat tire while they were at our martial arts school. While I wasn't able to do much to help (the guys had that covered), I was able to be the emotional support to their daughter. She seemed okay and she was acting pretty normal, but I knew what it was like to be in that situation and she admitted to being a bit nervous. In all honesty, it's terrifying when you don't quite know what's going on and sometimes, you just need a hug.
That was exactly what she needed and I understood that -- but only because two weeks ago, I blew out a tire and had a mini-adventure in the Whole Foods parking lot.