Rocks with that?

I was reminded today of how I used to have a chunk of charcoal in my water bottle.  I haven’t thought much about that at all recently, (however, I might start doing it again) but apparently the lacrosse team I used to help coach thinks of it often.

First off, the charcoal in the water bottle is something I learned from Japan, though, via my brother before I moved there (and then it was emphasized while I lived there).  It has to do with cleaning up the water, essentially, from what I recall.  (Note: It is not drinking charcoal mixed with water.  It is a stick of this specific charcoal that sits in the water bottle, so that its pores can absorb unwanted stuff from the water.)

Anyway, so I had this stick of charcoal in my water bottle.  I carry my water bottle pretty much everywhere with me in life, so lacrosse practice was included back when I was coaching (and teaching).  Apparently, one of the girls has held on to the fact that I had ‘some kind of rocks’ in my water bottle, though I have doubts as to whether she recalls what the ‘rocks’ actually were (the stick had broken in half, so there were actually two pieces in the bottle, instead of one, but they didn’t really look like rocks).  In memory of my water bottle, in a sense, that particular girl regularly drops rocks into other people’s water bottles, telling them that it is healthy, and reminding them of how I did it.

Yes, my wonderful lifestyle rubs off in the best of ways.  😛  I guess it gives us a new meaning for ‘on the rocks’, now.

Post-a-day 2018


Get a handle

I broke my new (to me) car today.  Okay, well, a part of it.  The car was parked on a street whose sides really sloped downward – and I mean a lot.  When I went to open the driver door, after unlocking it, the door opened just slightly, before my hand flew towards me, and the door slammed back shut.  The handle had broken.

And so, at least until I find a bonding agent – aka glue – that will hold well enough to stick the broken underside of the driver handle into place – hey, I wonder if that’s the issue with the other door – , I’ll have to do what I did this afternoon and tonight, and enter my vehicle from the passenger front door, because now both doors on the driver side won’t open from the outside (but the back seat door came that way when I received the car, so that wasn’t my doing).

Add that to the duct tape, and I am an image in blue 2002.

I mean, talk about ghetto – I’m getting there faster than ever anticipated (which was never!).  Haha.

Post-a-day 2018

What to do… slash I am a nutcase sometimes

I am having breakdown after breakdown with these graduate school essays.  Is it that I really just don’t want to apply?  I think not.  Is it that I am scared of applying?  Likely.

I am scared for various reasons.

I do not want to be rejected.  I am good enough for this program.  But I might not be a good match for it.  So, if the school decides that I am not a good match, and rejects my application, what then?  If the school accepts me, and I later find out that I am not a good match, and I end up hating the program, what then?  What if I am a good match for the program/school, but I end up just not liking the studies?  And am I applying because it just feels like something safe to pursue?  So many of my co-agers seem to have resorted to graduate school whenever something else for work has not panned out as hoped.  Do I resist applying, because I am worried that it will look like a sort of ‘I messed up and had no back-up plan, so I have to go to graduate school,’ kind of thing?

I like being prestigious.  I enjoy being snobby.  (Not like crazy, but to a certain degree, I mean.)  I love the schools I have already attended, and I love being able to tell people that I attended them.  They are special, well-known, highly acclaimed, and amazing quality schools.  I feel like this one is nowhere near the same caliber, and holds very little respect in its name.  The only way I would be comfortable attending it, would be if I had something amazing afterward, be it a spectacular PhD program or seemingly unreal work success.  It is the kind of place where I would want to work, not attend school.  Just like my teaching last semester, I want to be able to share about the school as someone who supports it as an outsider.  Attending the school would feel in adequate for my own abilities, skills, and knowledge.  I want a graduate degree, but I think I don’t want it from here.

However, is this fear coming forth, creating excuses for me?  I suppose the best plan of action would be to apply to the program, and then see what happens.  If they accept me, great.  Now I get to choose to attend or not.  If they reject me, great.  Now I get to choose what else to do with my talents and my time.  (I think I want to do the latter already.)


Okay.  So, let’s finish this application, and let’s rock it!


P.S.  And I know that I want the degree so that I can further my career in teaching, expanding it to English, as well as creating the possibility of teaching at the college level.  However, I think that is precisely what has been holding gem back from seeing what is really there for me.  That just makes so much sense.  It is difficult to set aside things that make beautiful sense.  If I take the step of this graduate program now, then I can begin teaching English quite soon.  However, I love teaching high school.  And I love doing other things, too.  I am substitute teaching today.  I love subbing regularly in a school, where I get to know the students just enough, but am not stuck to one subject area alone. Long-term subbing is kind of the best.  Yes, it pays way less than regular teaching.  But I love it.  I want to teach part-time.  Period.  Even when I consider my life post-Master-degree, I still see myself teaching only part-time.  I think what I fear the most is what I will do in order to sustain a part-time teaching lifestyle financially.  Or, rather, how to figure out what to do.  If I don’t manage that now, I will spend the next two and a half years freaking out about just that – if only in the background of my mind.  I think I want to figure that out now.  Now.  🙂

Post-a-day 2018


Rodeo has begun

Apparently I have little to comment and share this weekend… I guess the rodeo has me worn out like crazy already, leaving me with hardly any energy to write up more than a sentence of heartfelt nonsense by the time I make it home and to bed each night. 😛

Post-a-day 2018


from nothing to nuts

Tonight, I am well and good exhausted.  Why is it that plans all happen right around the same time as one another?  For weeks, I grow lonesome in the world, with everyone being unavailable or uninterested in doing anything together, and my having loads of free time.  And then, the one week that I am suddenly booked for work, so many things happen, and people reach out wanting to do things.  Of course, I want to go do those things with those people, and so, even though I don’t do them all, the ones I do do are totally exhausting after the already booked work schedule of the week.


Also, I love this scene from “Clueless”, a movie based on Emma, a novel by Jane Austen.  We talked about it tonight while having more cobbler and ice cream back at the house, after midnight, and after we’d already gone to a play-plex to be semi-children for the celebration of our birthdays.

Post-a-day 2018


When we are down

‘Why couldn’t you just let me be happy?’  I believe that is the question she asks her friend Betty, who has recently been incredibly harsh, before walking off, leaving Betty sitting speechless and alone on the steps (“Mona Lisa Smile”).  At the time, Betty was in a marriage she had just begun – with incredibly high hopes and expectations – , but that was falling to extreme pieces.  Her husband clearly did not love her, and was rather uninterested in her in general, but she didn’t know what to do.  All she could do was continue her school work, and unintentionally let out her suppressed panic in the form of nastiness toward her friends.

As I thought more and more tonight about this little scenario that is within the film “Mona Lisa Smile”, I began to relate it directly to my own life.  Betty couldn’t let her friend Connie be happy, because Betty was so miserable.  How could she help herself against being bitter and angry that Connie’s love life was blooming, when her own – one she had until very recently believed to be perfect – was falling apart?  It made perfect sense to me.  And so I wondered where I have done that in my own life (or at least wanted to do it).

Talking with a friend the other night, she was sharing how much she had loved her Japan job.  It made me want to be angry, because I was miserable in my job in Japan.  What does one have to do with the other?! I found myself asking… myself.  So what if she enjoyed her job?  That’s a wonderful thing!  And yet the desire persisted every so gently, to the point where I still have to let it go over and over again (though it is much easier than it was at first).  This is the same as Betty Warren’s problem, really.  I was unhappy, so it was almost wrong of someone else to be happy in that comparable situation.  (I’m not saying this as fact, of course, but as the feeling behind it all for myself.)

When I have been making not-very-much money in recent years, I grow annoyed at the former classmates who are buying their wonderful, large houses.  Not having a significant other (or anything similar, beyond a (married) best friend across the ocean), I sometimes feel sick when I see yet another engagement announced on Facebook by people in my age group.  And the list goes on for all sorts of things… wonderful pets, trips to beautiful or cool places, exercise…

While my initial responses were similar to pure anger and jealousy (as if their getting a house or getting married has any deprivation effects on my life), upon seeing or hearing about the various happy events in other people’s lives, they have developed to a calmed state of slight discomfort and longing instead.  (It just felt wrong to be angry at such things, so I made a genuine effort to look at what was behind it all for me, and to manage a healthy response for myself, as well as for the people who are celebrating – I don’t want to be sending them angry vibes, ya know?)  😛  But that changes nothing from the Betty Warren within me – it still takes an effort to allow others to be happy in a situation in which I am not happy.  Granted, my responses are much improved and I do not shed bitterness and nasty comments the way she did.  However, the discomfort still remains for the situations.

I don’t know what I wanted to say about this all – I think I just wanted to say that.  That I can relate very easily to poor Betty Warren and her inability to let her friend be happy  in an area of life where she, herself, was so unhappy (despite what likely was a genuine love for her friend and desire for her friend to be happy in life).  We do that in our own lives quite often, it feels.  From the greatest to the smallest of things, when we are unhappy with a specific aspect of our own lives, we struggle to see others be happy in that same aspect of their lives.  I don’t want to give out a solution to this behavior – I just want us to notice that we have it, really.  Simply noticing it, bringing awareness to it, makes more of a difference than we could imagine, anyway.  Betty seemed utterly shocked when Connie accused her with the question.  To that point, even if she had realized what she was doing, it is likely that she was unable to admit it to herself…

Yeah… I want to look even more into the smallest nooks and crannies of my life to see where else I have been in this rut-based hatred/anger in the past.  I want to let all of that go.  And I want to be free of it all for the future, and to be able to wish others well with ease, no matter my own current situation.

Post-a-day 2018



My head aches and aches and aches.  All I did was have a wonderful day and drink less than three liters of water.  How is it normal for someone to have such a result?  I guess my body in just in synch with the weirdness of my mind and personality.  Gotta be crazy all over, not just in one area of life.  Oh, no.  😛

Though, oddly enough, I drank very little water today, even though I was surrounded by it with all the rain we’ve had today and tonight.  I was even out in it for a while earlier today.  Crazy.

How much water do You drink on average in a day?  I average a minimum of three liters, and have done up to five on desperate days back in Japan.

Post-a-day 2018