Friday, December 31, 2010

Kick start



Okay, guys. The golden rule, and my theme for 2011, is DO NOT EVER TALK TO YOUR EX BOYFRIENDS NO MATTER HOW SECURE YOU ARE IN YOUR LIFE CUZ IT WILL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP AND YOU WILL BE UP ALL NIGHT FUCKING CRYING UNTIL YOUR SLEEVES ARE COVERED IN SNOT AND YESTERDAY'S MASCARA IS ALL DRIPPY ON YOUR CHEEKS AND YOU HAVE TO USE OIL-BASED REMOVER TO GET THAT SHIT OFF AND THEN YOU BREAK OUT.

Vicious.

If you can get your hands on some small clay figurines, BUY THEM ALL! Leave a few around your house in random places. Pick the tiniest one and leave it semi-hidden peeking out from behind the biggest book on your bookshelf or in between the Las Vegas and New York shot glasses in your kitchen.

This becomes your lucky rock. You pass by it every day but hardly ever notice, but YOU will notice, cuz you put it there secretively, and every time you pass by you think of something good.

I usually think of cupcakes because I love them. Mine are idealized, perfectly round cakes with perfectly asymmetrical frosting and a day glo cherry on top and a crisp paper cup with hearts on it. In my mind, they are floating in the ether, the Cupcake Ether, weightlessly twirling against a pink polka-dot sky, because if the Cupcake Ether has a sky it's definitely pink polka-dotted. They never get mashed or stale or crumbly and when ever I want I can reach a mysterious hand into one corner of the Ether and pluck the most perfect looking cupcake that I can find.

In related news, do people seriously not know how to spell definitely yet? Come on! I'm getting pissed. Look at the root of the word: finite. Do you spell finite fanite? No? I didn't fucking THINK SO! Also, what about dissappoint and kareokee? Are you FUCKING kidding me guys? I could understand those mistakes if you got a liberal arts degree but... oh, wait, you DID get a liberal arts degree? You...

Wow, sorry about that last paragraph! Can you sense my angst? It matches my Teen Spirit.

Whatever, though, I have nothing to lose. I'm not trying to be cool. Or am I?

Guy #1: That's cool.
Guy #2: What's cool?
Guy #1: Nothing.

NOTHING IS COOL.

Yeah, I am.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Let’s have a toast for the douchebags



If a guy is famous or really good-looking, you need to seriously consider if herpes is worth it.

Homeless people on the bus smell BAD and make me feel awkward.

Another person who makes me feel awkward is that preacher guy on library mall. WTF dude?

Aspartame will fuck your shit UP and you shouldn't drink so much diet coke!

The best gifts are hand-made. You're getting a macaroni picture frame for christmas.

Don't forget to MOISTURIZE people! It's freaking WINTER!

Make an attempt to stay up late for astronomical events, such as last night's lunar eclipse of a full moon on the winter solstice.

Now that you have all this free time, watch old episodes of Bob Ross and also anything with Dick van Dyke.

If you wake up one day and you're feeling REALLY crappy it's OKAY to cancel everything and lay in bed for several hours. Bonus if you have a friend in bed with you.

Things everyone should do always: wear your seatbelt, floss, say thank you

Hey, do yourself a favor and at least FAKE a smile! You'll feel way better.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

I'd like to buy a vowel



God, you really make me want to vom sometimes. Can't handle it! Avert your eyes! Shoo the children from the room! I forgot who said it, but someone did: The one who doesn't want you is the one you want the most. WTF is with THAT bs?

Let's watch more documentaries, people! Damn! Embrace your inner nerd girl!

Do you ever have a really intense irrational fear of somehow losing your paper that you've worked on all semester? Yesterday I had a vivid daydreaming session about a guy trying to steal my laptop and me pleading to at least let me save my papers first. "You can have it, I'm serious... just let me save my papers first!" I'd say to him. And really, I could give a fuck about the laptop...but losing the hours and hours of work would make me lose my mind. Then I'd write an e-mail to my adviser... "Maria - you'll never believe what happened!" Would she believe it? Would I have to write everything again? I'd cry. I'd fucking bawl and then probably engage in some seriously self-destructive behavior.

OH YEAH, I graduated today! After the ceremony, I came home to work on my paper(s). Talk about a downer!

i love you! bye!

xoxo

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Pert near no sleeeeeeeeep



Something interesting happens when you don't sleep for long periods of time. It's really fun - REALLY fun - and you get kind of delirious and it's like you're high all the time. And you start making minor mistakes when writing, like using the wrong form of you're/your or their/they're/there. Also some SERIOUS dyslexia. It's like being drunk a little. Tomorrow I'm going to be drunk, hopefully. HOPEFULLY, GUYS. Listen to a little Jamesssss Brown, right? Amiright? Hm?

I'm going to start writing posts completely in the nude. I think it will lend a little ZING to the style of this silly blog. Okay, so I DID steal that idea from Mel and Floyd. Actually it was Mr. Smarty Pants, aka Mr. Pants.

Do you ever feel like you're in a really good mood but you shouldn't be? Like after somebody dies, or there is some horrible tragedy in SE Asia, a tsunami or some bullshit, you're supposed to be all somber and droopy and flaccid, but you feel like a fucking hot spring is about to explode because you're in such a goddamn good mood. It's a hard sell, but my mood today is fucking fantastic. Is it because I haven't slept? Yeah, prob.

Weeeeell, time to go write another pape. Call me! xoxo

PEM

Friday, December 17, 2010

I hrt u wlfmthr



Someday I'll be Bettie... Someday.

But today is not that day. Today is the day where I don't sleep and pretend that pulling an all-nighter is nothing.

Fuck it, I'm smoking in my room. I don't even CARE!

P.S. Dear ex boyfriends, why do you suck so bad and make my life awful? Thanks. Now I'm thinking about YOU and can't get my paper done.

I'm going to drink so many beers when this is over... probably like three.

I can't wait to get my post-breakup-hair-cut, followed closely by a post-graduation-bird-tattoo and MAYBE EVEN A FACIAL PIERCING OMGGGGG

P.P.S. I have discovered wolfmother and rediscovered led zeppelin and my life is now amazing. Also, Dream On by Aerosmith is now on the List of Good Songs. This shit is getting fancy-free! I DON'T EVEN LIKE AEROSMITH! THE INTEGRITY OF THE LIST HAS BEEN COMPROMISED!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Floor pie



Let me reaffirm my fondness of making out: it's awesome. Humanity, as a whole, does not make out enough. Making out is good for your soul. When done correctly and with correct frequency, making out can help you blossom into a wholesome, radiant being.

There are many different ways to make out, and none of them are wrong. If it feels good, how can it be wrong? Society may try to dictate your makings-out, but don't be swayed from embracing your moment to connect intimately with another human being for a short time. Or a long time.

My favorite variety of making out is the Topless Make Out Session, wherein one or both parties are without clothing above the waist. You might choose to include bras, tank tops, or any variety within undershirt/undergarment milieu at your discretion. This form of making out, topless, can be performed vertically, say, in the middle of your kitchen, or horizontally using furniture or other structures for assistance and comfort. Angular varieties have not occurred, or have not yet been documented, presumably as a result of the difficulty of sustaining this position for extended periods of time. There is no limit for duration with this making out variety, as opposed to the Quickie, wherein the characteristics of the make out are rapid and the overall session is not sustained. Hegemonic definitions of the Topless Make Out Session often entail the procession of normal day-to-day activities after the cessation of the act. Here, the term normal day-to-day activities may be subject to evaluation and speculation, but it is at least safe to assume that these activities include domestic work, wage-earning work, and common leisure activities (hunting, reading, or farming).

Fact: I have seriously considered eating a spoonful of butter at least once in the past 24 hours.

Fact: Ex-boyfriends are no fun on a Sunday night when it's cold outside and you have papers to write and whole books to read and you should be in a circle on the couch with the comforter from your bed all cozy-like with your cat.

Fact: I am missing a Cake concert at THIS VERY MOMENT.

I don't fucking know, man. What we REALLY need is to wake up in the morning and not have cracked lips and mascara residue under your eyes. Or to stop watching so much reality tv and listen to public radio instead. To stop thinking about moderation and live your life like you're going to be photographed naked the next day. To quit your fucking job that is a life-suck and work for a) The Wisconsin State Historical Society, b) University of Wisconsin, or c) WORT.

Did you feel left out of No-Shave November festivities? Jezebel recently cleared that up: Decembrow. I'm in.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Non-substantive post




HOLY SHIT GUYS

5 days til last day of class EVER
9 days til graduation CEREMONY
10 days til my sister's bDAY
12 days til last final exam EVER
15 days til xxxMAS
21 days til GIRL TALK

My life is taking a turn for the AWESOME, except for bein' single n stuff... *kicks dirt*

Monday, December 6, 2010

I remember Walter



This just in: Nobody talks about how hot Sloan Peterson is (was). Did you FORGET about her?

Did you forget about Cassandra, too?



Come on! She plays guitar, dude! GUITAR!

What about the OTHER Sloan? Hmm?



Ok, I'll be honest: I'm pissed right now. Cassandra and the Sloans, they're just a front. I'm pissed because I'm procrastinating. I'm tired. And I probably need a cigarette.

I was looking up this song that has the highest play count in my iTunes, because I'm obsessive, and it feels good, and found something fucking blasphemous.

First of all, she is a fucking HOMOPHOBE and has offended allies of the lgbtq community MULTIPLE TIMES.

Second of all, her face reminds me of my dumb ex who I am OBVIOUSLY so much better than butsecretlycantstopthinkingaboutevenfortwoseconds.

ALSO, she bastardized the Beach Boys. THE BEACH BOYS!!!!!

That was fine, whatever, I got over it. But THEN...




...she decided she was entitled enough to cover MGMT's Electric Feel.

She fucking ruined my favorite song. My underwear-in-the-mirror song. Do you not realize how SERIOUS THIS IS PEOPLE!?

I could justify her bigotry cuz hey, it's trendy and sells records. I can get past her face and sound giving me a twinge from a relationship gone sour. I can call it even with her stupid Beach Boys ripoff. But not this. I will not let KPerry take Electric Feel away from me.

I WILL reclaim Electric Feel just like those crazy feminists took back words like CUNT and CLIT and did STUPID performance art with it.

Times like these when I really need to find some footing, I ask myself W.W.R.G.D.? He would say Page, it's alright to cry.



New personal philosophy.

Siege at the 28th Street Roundhouse



1. Play the piano more. It's like riding a bike...right?
2. Give up knitting.
3. Read books before bed.
4. Scherenschnitte
5. Write in this blog
6. Figure out my life

How it actually will go:
1. Play the piano the first two days and then take a several weeks long "break"
2. Give up knitting but feel bad about it
3. Read graphic novels before bed.
4. Get really good at papercutting and develop early onset arthritis
5. Gain an in-depth perspective of narcissism
6. Coast through several months and eventually have a breakdown from the weight of my own self-loathing and guilt

But hey, guess what else!



Yeahhhh that's right! Snoop Doggy Dogg at The Orpheum nearest YOU! February 1st. You wanna come with? Cuz you TOTALLY CAN!

Sigh... being poor and single is possibly the most miserable experience on this earth. Who wants to go to a Snoop Dogg concert alone? SNOOP DOGG! Furthermore, Susan, if another human being isn't there to make me happy, HOW am I supposed to supplement the emptiness with goods and services if I have to be FRUGAL?! I might have a problem.

Well, I just binged and now I feel like an asshole. Where's my toothbrush?

Sunday, December 5, 2010

DO NOT WANT




Without coffee, my soul is cold, dark and gray. The world is a heap of ashes and its inhabitants shards of bone. Without coffee, my mind spirals itself into a corner where it remains the rest of the afternoon, like a wilted mayfly. Bleak, empty, lifeless coffeeless world.

Friday, December 3, 2010

W.W.J.D.




Recently I've found myself awake in bed sometime after 3:00am. Sometimes I don't look at the clock, because I saw a scary movie once where the girl wakes up at 3:33am and proceeds to be lacerated and raped by a dark, masculine figure. When I do look at the clock, it's only because I'm desperately hoping someone texted me, and I pray it doesn't say 3:33.

Last night I woke up at 3:14. I was mostly blind in my left eye. I was so delirious at first that I didn't really notice, or care, and as I was roused to consciousness I played it off as some second hand mascara or a rogue eyelash. I blinked and squinted the mascara off, but my lid was not strong enough to separate it from my eyeball. A bit of panic set in, and I thought my contact lens had scratched my cornea, or that this was how spirit possessions began and I'd need an exorcism sooner or later. I briefly imagined that I was slowly losing my sight, and thought about how life would be as a blind person, crossing East Campus Mall tentatively with pointed toes and one arm half-outstretched, and how everyone would feel bad for me and throw me a huge party and maybe you would change your mind about leaving out of some sad obligation.

I was awfully warm, spread eagle under layers of covers in an attempt to increase surface area to better radiate the heat from my body. My clothes were damp and smelled like the coconut lotion I had bought from the Community Pharmacy. I took my socks off with only my toes, something I've become good at, and shoved them down to the bottom of the sheet where it tucks under the mattress so I could find them later as a laundry surprise. I hastily shed all other layers as quickly as I could manage.

Apparently, earlier that night I had thought it would be wise to snugly tie the drawstring of my cotton pants (with the polka dots) in a double knot. Now, to a partially blind and mostly freaked out scared of the dark half asleep sweltering girl, this nearly made me scream sounds that a middle aged obese man produces when napping on his recliner with the worn arms and greasy headrest.

I don't know about you, but when I've just awoken, my hands don't work properly. I can't make fists. Go on, try it tomorrow morning immediately after you wake up. Try to make a fist. It's the same feeling I get when I'm sitting in the hospital with a sick person or when I'm in the hospital myself and they tell me this is serious and we're going to have to give you stitches. My swollen fingers failed at unraveling the mess of a drawstring, which was now all garbled and far worse off than before. I pulled each polka dotted cotton leg up around my hips as high as they would go, bundling the fabric between my legs like a pad you wear when you first get your period in 6th grade.

I'm not sure when I finally fell back asleep or if I really even did, but I do know that you never texted me back, and after that I had really strange dreams about being in a car accident, stuffing dollar bills into a plush pig, and sweeping long red hairs up from my bedroom floor.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Bedtime, pie-eating contests, and butter substitutes



I decided to start a list of good songs.

It started as a digital list, housed on my phone. I thought it'd be perfect since at any time the urge struck, I could modify, add, and subtract from the list. Usually it happens in the middle of a run or on the bus when it's freezing, neither of which are good times to add songs to a list.

It felt wrong. It felt like blasphemy. My thumbs struggled to type in words like Styx and Beatles, sharp text on a jarring neon background. Words like that should be written on dry paper with yellowed edges and a stub of a pencil with half an eraser.

Eventually I found suitable material, worthy of keeping a record of songs that I deem to be Good. It was a scrap of red construction paper, one torn edge, faded from the sun near the top where the corner curled under. I found a red pen with ink globbed at its point, so the first marks leave a bump of blood at the beginning of each first letter, and are then flattened by magazines and bills stacked on top later.

The list is growing, slowly. It had a good start, initially formulated by a burst of energy where the same handwriting made each addition seem like a border of a puzzle. Soon I'll need to fill in the inside pieces with creamy, thick songs that ooze when you squeeze them with both hands and make you think about your life or what it was like to be a child. As I enter a new phase of adoration for rock and roll made in the 1980s just like I was, it might look completely different from when it was started. When it's done, the list will read like a disjointed photo album that fell apart and was hastily reassembled by someone's Grandmother.

It's not ready yet. Right now it's got the standard litany of Beatles songs, most of the soundtrack from Death Proof, and a number of electronic songs that belong to bands with dumb names. What it probably won't be is a way for deep introspection into my soul, where you can read it like a journal entry from five years ago in an attempt for self-reflection. It will end up being messy, shallow, and dirty, but the impeccable penmanship will redeem its validity as a list of Good Songs.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Unabashedly bawling my eyes out



Well folks, tonight I finally cracked.

I know you know the feeling. Maybe it's been there for a while, but you don't really say anything or look it in the eyes. Maybe you try to avoid it. Maybe you embrace it full-force monster truck rally live this Sunday style. Maybe it starts off as a leak; seepage from below the earth, filtered through rock and dirt ten thousand years old. Sometimes there's a catalyst, a tipping point, and you can't quite stabilize yourself enough to hit equilibrium. The ground is bumpy and uneven and your shoes are too big. Your pupils shrink and your mouth is open and dry and the camera zooms back quicker than you can extinguish a flame. You sit in the middle of your room like a malnourished Indian sitting atop a heap of red dusty bricks, digits curled gingerly around corners and jagged edges.

The thing that finally did it for me was probably exacerbated by a several day streak of destructive behavior, including lack of sleep, an inversion of my normal water-to-beer ratio, poor dental hygiene and impaired decision-making abilities. I've realized now that dropping out of school will be the least beneficial option for me in the long run. Aren't you glad I came to my senses and decided to write this post instead of researching for my paper?

Sunday, November 21, 2010

images of rapture

The makers of Tidy Cats are pervs.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

You trifling good for nothing type of brother



Do you think that the other members of Destiny's Child are resentful that Beyonce made it and they didn't? I'd be pissed.

We're having a dance party over here on E Johnny, do you wanna come?



Beyonce says YES PLEASE!

Well, I managed to fuck off this entire day and get NO work done. What I'm really trying to say is CHEERS!

In other news, check out this hot dude!



God. If you have a beard, call me.

Do you guys have any awesome Thanksgiving plans? You know what I really hate? When people call it turkey day. Like really. wtf? What are you, a fucking yooper?



We're going to watch The Grinch. Classic, kid-friendly, family fun. For extra credit, you can drink every time they say Grinch.

Recently, I learned that coors is also called werewolf killer. Did you know this? It was a revelation.

Just because you're single doesn't mean you should stop shaving your legs! Keep it sexy, bitches! Wear cute undies EVERY DAY! Preferably paired with knee-high socks. You never know! If you can't decide whether or not to shave your legs before bed, you should totally DO IT! The feeling of freshly shaved legs between your sheets when you wake up in the morning is really, really AWESOME and will make you smile.



Can you believe that people still don't know how to use proper grammar and punctuation? It's really disgusting! Come on people, we're 22 years old! Seriously! I want to puke just THINKING about it!

Do you remember the old prospector from SNL? Gus Chiggins! Fucking funny.



Fish face: Exhibit A



Don't you just wanna wrap your lips around those puppies? Actually I posted this pic cuz I thought my eyebrow looked awesome. Call me! xo

ps if you're planning on drinking make sure you drink on an empty stomach cuz you get WAY DRUNKER WAY FASTER! kbye!

pps drinking beer will make you FAT so watch it! ration!

Do cafeterias make you nervous?



Have you ever wanted to punch someone in the face?

Do you have a big bum?

Find the answer to these and life's other quandaries below!

If you are reading this, that means you are helping propagate my procrastination. So way to go.

Many people think it's okay if you do certain things, like have a big bum, use ubiquitous you, or swear in front of children. In reality, these things are NOT OKAY!

If you have a big bum, think about how uncomfortable other people on the bus are. You take up 1.25 or in some cases 1.5 seats. In this case, no one can use the seat next to you. So that means the old lady who just boarded the bus and has her little cart full of groceries with french bread sticking out will have to stand the entire way to the West Transfer Point. Because of that, she'll need a hip replacement. Which you should fund. Also, think about how awkward it is when you sit down in a classroom chair with those half-desks, and you realize there isn't enough room so you have to use the mini-table instead. Then the invalid wheels on in and has nowhere to sit, and is forced to awkwardly rest their notebook in their lap for the rest of class. A lap that they can neither use nor feel. Their legs are bloodless, just like your heart, you big-bummed whore. If you've ever broken ANYTHING by resting your bum upon it, that means you have a problem and need to do something about it. This includes but is not limited to Hot Wheels, live animals, foodstuffs, church pews, and playground equipment (specifically see-saws, but I suppose other pieces could qualify as well). The public shame should be motivation enough.

Sometimes I really want to punch my boss and also my ex in the face. I've had serious feelings about this, but I didn't mark it down on the emotional evaluation form they give you when you go to your shrink. So in essence I didn't lie, I just omitted some facts. If you feel like you need to punch someone, you should really go to a kickboxing class. I understand that some people can't handle that, but just go for a few weeks and figure out what the fuck you're doing so you don't look like a dumbass or hurt yourself. Then you can go to a real boxing ring - ideally in a warehouse and in sepia tones, with rays of light coming in through broken and dirty windows - and get out some real aggression. I'm serious guys, it really works! Plus you look really sexy!

Everyone should listen to Mel & Floyd. It will make you lol. (Please see my previous post about using lol.) When you're at that work and you get the 2:30 feeling, Mel and Floyd will get you through. Please make an Android app!

Last night I smoked a blunt outside the Memorial Union. I'm talking like right outside, front and center. I felt so badass! Also nervous. Strangers are so nice.

I was going to write more, but I decided to go dye my hair. Bye suckaz!

P.S. Two pieces of advice to live by today:

1. When in doubt, wear all black.
2. When in doubt, do what Bettie Page would do.




xoxo page

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Webcam: A Study in Page

This is the course of my night:



Who the fuck are you and why are you reading this blog?!?

I guess I should start my homework.



Right after I eat this entire package of Chewy Sprees.



Fuck, now it's been an hour and I haven't done anything. Write my paper for me?



No? Ok, I'll just make this fun noise by putting my index finger in my mouth.

Also, I love me some Badgers.

Ani DiFranco will kick your ass and then hug you.

So the other day I was tryin'a listen to some music like in point number one below, and had a hankering for some Ani D. I had a hard time selecting something and I decided I needed to refresh my Ani repertoire, which led to the subsequent binge on the iTunes store. I am not ashamed to buy music legally.

Not only did I have disturbing dreams about my ex last night, I also couldn't sleep until crrrrzy late, like so late that you're not sure if you should call it night or morning. Why is it that you feel awesome when you get random no-sleep but when you plan it all out and get a decent number, like 7 or 8, your day sucks and you have those huge things under each of your eyeballs?

I have a meeting with my therapist today. I love him so much. More than I've ever loved anything in my whole life, even my mother.

Also, if you are still blending your blush at an angle up to your hair line you are DOING IT WRONG. That is so 1980s. Why don't you crimp your hair while you're at it? You're supposed to be putting some rosy blush on the APPLES, not the CHEEKBONES. duh.

Who do you think you are? Do you know who you are? And if you do, can you tell me who I am? kthx.

If you bastardize a song that USED to be canonical until you came around with your pseudo-cover, get the fuck out. California Girls used to be good, but now I just think of your fucking face (yes you, Katy Perry, cuz I know you're reading this). Thanks for making me hate the Beach Boys.

Actually, I really love the Beach Boys still.

Also, Katy Perry, stop making those fucking music videos with fat people and gay dudes kissing just to clear your past record of being a fucking homophobe. By including the one token fat girl and alternative-style person of questionable gender, you DO NOT gain cred with the feminists. I can't wait til you get fat and divorced.

When did it become a big thing to talk about feminism or call yourself a feminist? How is it that you fucks can espouse feminine ideals and talk about egalitarian societies and how great they are, but then refuse to acknowledge that those things are FEMINIST?!

If you really want to do something AWESOME and FUN for New Years, buy a fucking ticket to see Girl Talk at the Rave and we'll get really drunk together and laugh a lot and stumble around and pick up girls that look like guys. You have to drive though.

If you're reading this and you're one of my exes, that means you FUCKED UP by dumping me or being an asshole cuz I am really fucking cool, and I now realize that you were probably just intimidated by my intense level of POSH and APLOMB. However, I WILL stick around a little longer to see if you change your mind.

Kid Cudi is possibly the best-looking man I've ever seen.

If you need a big sister, or a little sister, or mother, grandmother, aunt, or wife you should TOTES call/text/email me! Hearing about your problems makes mine seem less bad.

Also, don't ever say totes in real life. That is all.

Shawty, what your name is?

Some things your mother should have told you:

When you're getting ready in the morning, listen to Beyonce or Gorillaz. It will TOTALLY energize your day!

If your teeth clank with the teeth of the person with whom you are making out, that's gross.

Don't make out with gross dudes and justify it by saying you were really drunk.

When you feel sluggish and puffy, it means you need to drink a shit ton of water. Drink so much that you want to vom, but then don't actually do it.

Hipsters: you are no longer counter-culture. Also, stop wearing those dumb fucking belt buckles.

When you eat cereal, always read the back of the cereal box and use extra milk. Don't drink cow's milk EVER; that shit's gross.

Wear a sports bra to bed all the time! Your shelf bra in that stretched out tank top is not going to cut it.

ALWAYS wash your vegetables and fruits before you consume them. If you're not planning on peeling what you're eating, you should probably buy organic (apples, grapes, blueberries).

Get some denim skinny jeans, white blouse with french cuffs, and red heels. PWN IT!

Stop using lol in your internet/text communications. It makes you look dumb.

Make an effort to SMILE more. If you don't, people will think you're always pissed off.

Only binge eat late at night after you've brushed your teeth and immediately preceding bed.

If the barista at the coffee shop is a cute guy, order an americano or black tea.

Get drunk, but not so drunk that you vom all over your jeans and wake up on the ground outside the bar.

Write your Gramma a goddamn letter, and make it a good one! Try not to use any cliches.

If you're having a bad day and someone else is having a really good day, it's okay to tell them to fuck off.

Make friends with foreigners and people who dress cool. It will make you look cool too.

Learn how to pluck your eyebrows, ladies! If your eyebrows are overplucked, they look like sperm.

It's okay if you still sleep with your childhood stuffed animal and baby blanket, but make sure you stuff it between your bed and the wall before anyone comes over.

If your towels smell funky, wash them! If you notice this in the morning when you get out of the shower, it's okay to use it that day but then go wash it! You know what that smell is? It's mildew growing on your towel. Gross! And if you're late for school/work every morning you should get up earlier or consider preparing more the preceding night.

Don't text your exes, EVER! This totally gives you the upper hand.

You and your friends should make mix CDs more often and then plan road trips according to the length of the CD.

Stop using the word panties. It's awkward. Say underwear or knickers instead.

If you don't like cats or The Beatles, get the fuck out of my life.

It's OKAY to be a hypocrite. Everybody does it.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Holy shit

Guys. This is my last night in Krakow. I love this city. We have to come back and visit.

I just got home from enjoying my last night in this city at the local establishments. We had so much fun. I love these people. I love LE. I love Krakow. Love all around!

I really cannot believe this is the end. I don't think it's hit me yet. I thought it hit me as we were walking home. I thought to myself "this is the last night I will walk down this street with these people. This is the last time I will be drunk in Krakow in these circumstances." Then I realized that it didn't actually hit me yet. I hope those thoughts weren't true!

Holy shit I can't wait to get home. I'm going to miss this group of people so much. But the thought of turning on my cell phone and texting and my apartment and my bed and my bathroom are so enticing. I miss lambykins. SO to those of you who know who lambykins is. SO to those of you who know what SO means.\

Is this real?

WOWZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA this is so amazing. I'm sad to leave. But so happy too at the same time. It's a strange sensation. Or am I just drunk?

Whateva fools I'll see your face boobs in like a few hours so get ready YOW

Love love love love,

Page

So much

I am having so much fun. Even though the weather is awful, Krakow still hasn't failed me. I think everyone in our group is on the verge of getting sick, and the rain and cool temperatures are not helping.

Krakow is so amazing. And I'm having so much fun going out with the rest of the volunteers in the group. I'm going to be sad when this ends.

I can't believe this is the start of my last day here! We're going to an LOTR club tonight. I'm not sure if it's LOTR-themed, or just bears its name, or perhaps the type of crowd that frequents the bar participate in larping. I'll find out tonight and report back!

Holy crap I'm going to be home in like 30 hours.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Ukulele kids

One quick post before I head to the train station to catch a train to Krakow. I've finished packing up all my things and am waiting for my last hour in this house to pass. I'm sure I'll be fed one more time and probably be handed a bag of goodies from my host mother. They've already given me some nice things but they take up way more space in my suitcase than I allotted for. One is a really fancy tea cup and saucer that is housed in this large wooden box. I think I'll have to ditch the box, even though it's really cool and I know someone who would love to have it when I get home. They also gave me a pierogi making set - three different sized plastic contraptions that stamp out the shape of the pierogi and allow for mechanized folding of the dough so you can't mess up. Unfortunately they also came in a big cardboard box. I'll probably end up taking them out and stuffing them in the sides of my luggage until it bursts.

No matter how well planned you are, how detailed your itinerary and packing lists, there is always some anxiety that comes with packing up and moving out. Do I have everything? Did I double check? Did I get all the small things that are easily forgotten? My alarm clock? My toothbrush? My sandals by the door? Part of me really loves that feeling. It's a rush and it makes me feel real and here in the moment. I can feel the pace of my heartbeats increasing, and my stomach feels empty even though I've just had a meal. I'm grabbing on to that anxiety with both fists and keeping my eyelids open as far as they will go. It's like grabbing onto a tire swing and getting a running start to jump into a big lake. You have to make sure there is a clear path before you start and don't let yourself slip on any rocks or mossy wet grass when you run. But I think I'm ready. I'm definitely ready to leave my host family behind and enjoy the few hours in Krakow with the rest of the volunteers.

Part of me wants the next 48 hours to fly by, and part of me hopes that they go slowly so I can soak up every minute. I know that everything will be the same when I get back to the states and it won't take me long to run through my litany of stories and photos and feelings. I can settle back into my routine seamlessly. I wonder if I'll regain my old feelings about life and people and humanity right away, or if the introspection that has happened on this whole trip will cling to my innards for a long time, like a parasite. But more of a symbiotic relationship. I kind of hope that the latter will turn out to be true, since I really have enjoyed learning about myself and living at my limits each trying day. I think I'm a better person now, not to say that I needed a world of improvement before I left, but I like the things I've seen in myself and am happy about how I have handled the tests of teaching, living with a host family, and homesickness. It's like talking about tribes in Papua losing their culture due to televisions and mainstream media exposure. What happens when they've lost all their culture? Do they become cultureless? Anyone with a left brain and a right brain should know that it's not possible for any being to be without culture - the reality is that their lives have shifted and changed. They haven't lost anything.

Will write more when we get to Krakow. Can't wait!

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Saturday, July 24, 2010

Bye bye blackbird

Tonight was pretty awesome. I’m not sure, but I could be drunk and getting drunker as this post progresses. Is drunker a word? More drunk? I think it’s more drunk.

I was hanging out in the rynek with a handful of other volunteers. We had some dinner and drinks. The bars here are so cool. They’re cellar bars – I’ve written about them before. You have to duck your head when you go inside because the doorways are low and the steps are uneven. I guess the steps being uneven wouldn’t really make you have to duck your head, but it’s fun either way.

I’m writing this post so that I can stay up late and thus sleep in late tomorrow. You see, I have nothing to do tomorrow. No lesson plans to make, no work to do. Maybe I’ll do one last load of laundry and pack up the remainder of my things. Hopefully my suitcase doesn’t go over the weight limit but I have a bad feeling about it.

Today Agnieszka and I made pierogi ruskie from scratch. It took forever and we were both sweating by the end of it, but my god if they weren’t delicious. It’s pretty easy to make except for the dough part. Let’s make some when I get home.

There was another outdoor concert tonight and it was really fun and awesome. They even sang some songs in English, including Bye Bye Blackbird. I sang along! I know the lyrics because that was one of the songs I used to play over and over again when I was taking piano lessons from Ryan Mueller’s grandma. At the end of the concert, there was a New Orleans style parade around the rynek and we got sucked in, singing and dancing our way around the square. It was so much fun! I wish you guys could have been there with me. I got some pictures but haven’t bothered to see how they turned out. I guess I’ll find out in the morning.

Thank goodness for spell check! Can you imagine me doing an Edna Krabappel-style laugh right now? It would be best if I had some drambuie too and was throwing my head back and had a massive overbite and a yellow head.

My class was so sweet today. We made friendship bracelets and they asked if I have Facebook but I said no, I am too cool for that shit, and sorry but until their coolness level breeches mine we will never be able to be friends. Just kidding, I didn’t really say that. I did give them my street address though, but I didn’t write my full name. They gave me this plaque thing and my last name was spelled wrong, so I felt bad writing my full name out for my address because then they’d see that they messed up the plaque and feel bad.

I really don’t feel like flossing right now. What do you think? Should I do it? Does it count if I do it in the morning?

See your beautiful faces in just a few hours!

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Thursday, July 22, 2010

Banana phone

I'm getting ahead of myself and have already started packing my things. I think tonight I'll set out everything I need to get me through Sunday when I head to Krakow. I might end up having to ditch my suitcase with the broken wheel. That would be okay - one less piece of luggage will make my life so much easier when it comes time for the train ride and hauling my ass to the airport.

My host siblings have gone away for a two week camp near the Baltic Sea. I said my final goodbyes to them yesterday afternoon. I had walked into my room and had just applied a dallop of zit cream to the pad of my finger to take care of the newest crop when the whole family walked in and told me they had something to say to me. It was like being broken up with by my first boyfriend in 6th grade. They gave me the labored thank-yous and sad, solemn hugs goodbye and then handed me a little box with some jewelry. It was a pair of earrings - roses carved from amber and a silver stem on each. Probably way too fancy for me to wear, ever, but I'll wear them Sunday on my way out the door.

Later that day I had a meeting with Important People. It was supposed to be a thank-you to all the volunteers, and the Important People turned out to be the administrator of the village schools. We drove about 30 minutes out to some party arena place. I was glad I went because about 7 or 8 of the other volunteers were there and we made plans to go out on Friday night. Anyway, this place was odd. They had goats. And those giant inflatable bouncy things. There was a dinner in this cabin structure and it was so ungodly hot. The dinner was some bread and tray after tray of meaty meat. Big sausages, fried chicken, and other charred blocks and blobs of salty muscle fiber that I'm too ignorant to know the name for. We asked for something vegetarian and they brought us bowls of pickle spears.

There were lots of awkward pictures. The other volunteers and I sat together at a table, and every so often someone would come up and stand behind one side and have a photo taken, and then go over to the other side and take have another picture taken. We'd be eating only to look up and see some random woman with spiky blond hair jabbing her camera phone in our faces. Cheese?

It was so damn hot in there, but we waited and waited, knowing there would be dessert. Eventually I couldn't handle sitting there so I got up to leave, just in time to see two big carts of cake being wheeled out. We had already said our goodbyes and were headed for the door so I ultimately decided it wasn't worth it and we left anyway. A few calories saved, right? Actually not, because after we went to the sklep and I bought like 725323 things of candy and ate them ALL that night.

I'm going to go lay in the sun and read and indulge my lethargy.

Oh - and see you in 5 days!

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Monday, July 19, 2010

Bread

Refined wheat flour, not that awesome band. So much bread. Too much. Please no wheat flour when I get home. I think bread is, like, the default for vegetarians who don’t know any better. Luckily I do - but my host family doesn’t. The two Satan items that are now a huge part of my life that were rare just a mere five weeks ago: refined wheat and dairy. Have I crossed the threshold of too-late-to-tell? Just a few more days until I’m drowning in the sweet bliss that is raw veggies from my Moms garden.

I canceled class today. I could have gone. I didn’t feel like dealing with the handful of kids that would show up and sleeping in was too tempting. At least I have an extra lesson plan now. It’s raining today and awfully gloomy, and last time the weather was like this nobody showed up to class anyway. Except now I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s only a matter of time before I go and take a nap.

I lied to my host family and told them I was writing applications for grad school and doing grant research to justify how much time I spend on my laptop. Makes me feel better. Whenever I feel guilty for avoiding conversations or being a loner I just tell myself that I’ll never see these fools again in my life and I shouldn’t worry about how they feel. I’m the guest, right? Does this make me an awful person?

In other news, I look damn good today. Wish I had someone to show off to other than the 14 year old cow boy. Not cowboy, which could be sexy, but cow-boy. Part of it is the effortlessness that constituted getting dressed. Sometimes the simplest outfits are the most flattering. I swear I didn’t do anything more than tousle my newly long hair and it’s fucking perfect. I tried to avoid using the work fucking just now but the sentence didn’t have the same feel. I think I’m going to try to give up swearing when I get home. I am also deeply in love with this solid perfume my Mom gave me and I can’t wait to get home and leave it all over some boy. Sorry mom.

The bad part is that I think I ate some lotion. The soap this family uses makes my hands dry, so I slather lotion on quite frequently and then later on lick food from my fingers. Now my mouth feels like it’s coated and tastes bad.

Wow, this is narcissism at its finest. This is the kind of thing that makes me ashamed and feel like removing this whole Leafy Greens creation from its silly cyber existence. Good thing you guys don’t judge me, right? Lovers?

I know, I’ll make a list.

Things I miss:

1. Mom
2. Katie
3. Peanut butter
4. Raw things (not skin though)
5. Tilda, Lola, Oliver and Iko (but mostly Oliver my secret lover)
6. Food autonomy
7. Regular autonomy
8. Texting
9. James Madison Park
10. The Terrace
11. Driving north on John Nolen at night
12. Sushi
13. The porch
14. The Office
15. The square
16. Friends, I guess
17. Clothes in my closet right now
18. The rest of my underwear
19. Garden
20. New bras
21. Pink hair
22. Wax on my lip and brow
23. Bangs
24. Tanning
25. Black eyeliner
26. Fall
27. Boys
28. Girls
29. Live music
30. Hopalicious

I recently experienced a purge in my music library. Please suggest some new music to me! They don’t even have to be new bands – they could be old bands too. Say something that you love be it a genre or group or a solo artist. Go forth, inspire!

Virtual hugs for the next few days but then real hugz!

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P.S. A note on materialism. I’m struggling with fighting destructive capitalism and slipping into full-blown domination by it. Why does buying new things and spending a few hundred zloty make me happy? Why does my brain swim in happy chemicals when I find and purchase a cute outfit? And when I’m feeling unattractive, how is it that my whole day is sluggish and slow and dreary?

I think I just don’t know who I am yet. Dammit, Poland, you were supposed to help me find myself, not make me dig deeper into the big giant hole that is my existence. I’m not a real grown-up person. I’m a mixture of like 30 different things and one day if I’m lucky, i.e. if I grow up, I’ll learn to be the same person in every situation in which I find myself. I feel like I am supposed to fit into one category like Smiling Girl on the cover of Fill In the Blank. But it’s not like that for me. Sometimes I want to be sporty, or a princess, or know everything about which colors work best for you, sometimes I want to be a boy, sometimes I want to punch you in the face but then sit in a circle and hold hands, sometimes I want to wear all black, be vintage, be mod, sometimes I want to be organic, raw, ripe, dew-covered, sometimes I want to be a hermit and shrivel up in my room, sometimes I want to be a socialite that the media tells me girls my age should be, and sometimes I want to be that weird girl that wears lace-up boots in every season.

I hate that material things make me happy. Is this just because I’ve been a little out of touch and out of town lately? Is it because I entered the world of blogging and clicked the next blog link too many times? I found a well of rosy happiness that came from waking up early and looking out over a misty garden and the fields beyond. Not to say that doesn’t exist for me any longer, but I haven’t experienced it over the last few weeks. The idea of feeling empowered and pure from spending time at a mall makes me sick, but it is reality. Is this part of a new wave of feminism or some other ism that says its okay to spend your hard-earned money on a $6,000 yoga retreat in the name of health and wellness? I feel like this same logic says it doesn’t matter whether you get happiness from buying organic food or a hunk of yellow diamond as long as you’re exercising some femme mentality of kicking ass while wearing heels.

These thoughts are inspired by Bitch magazine. In a recent article one author used the term Oprahspeak to describe this new trend of working women who are supposed to demonstrate their empowerment and fuck you attitude by spoiling themselves rotten with jewelry from Tiffany and a day trip to Saks, topped with a black earth mud wrap and cucumber slices over your eyes. I think I feel sick -- I mean cynical -- I mean cyclical. I know I’ve felt this before and it happens like a wave. Or like you’re in a canoe paddling on one side and the other person is just sitting there. Your view changes a little with each stroke but after a few moments you're in the same place again. Any other ladies, or gents I guess, feeling this pressure? Let’s have a tea party where we wear structured dresses and sip dandelion tea with our pinkies out and our legs crossed at the ankles like gentlepeople. We can deconstruct these and other social issues.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Slovavas

Lots of time spent in the car today with cow-eye boy falling asleep on me. His head is spherical. I can add another country to my list of countries I've visited though!

First we went to downtown Slovakia-city. I can't remember the name. It was pretty dead though, but apparently it hasn't always been that way. It felt strange to be perusing a downtown area that would normally be bustling and full of shops and shoppers. But most of the shops were closed, and there were very few people on the sidewalks. We had some obiad (lunch) and they bought me an entire pizza. I told them I couldn't eat the whole thing, and I don't know why they insisted on doing that. I explained about getting half and half, that is half meat and half sans meat, but they weren't down for that either. Leftovers? They are weirded out when I eat cold pizza.

After wandering the market square got lame, we went to the mountains. Which mountains, you ask? The Tetras of course! Ever heard of it? It's okay if you haven't - you can still pretend that you have.

It was pretty neat to see. I enjoyed the part where we first saw it in the distance, and then drove closer, and then took a cable car up. It was pretty gradual and you don't really realize how far up you're going until you turn around and look back and see huge machinery that looks like caterpillars. All the land is divided up into pretty small parcels because it has been split by fathers among their sons for too many generations. At least they want to be fair about it. Fair according to the patriarchy I mean.

Naturally it's a pretty popular ski destination, and there was lots of construction going on while we were there. They were either working on the slaloms or creating new resorts on the mountain. The whole place was really gorgeous, except for all the machinery, deforestation, bright red and orange cords running everywhere, and huge piles of dirt and gravel surrounding barren pits in the earth. Nice!

I looked out across the hills when we were headed up in the cable car, and noticed a gentle slope not too far away that was being logged. There were vertical strips of trees missing from the woods, and those that had been harvested were messily strewn where they had once stood, looking like toothpicks from a tipped-over jar. It reminded me of how I shave my legs: one neat strip at a time, taking away the stubble and leaving only brown freckled earth behind. Then sometimes I forget to finish one leg and leave some hair behind for the next time, and it's like an oasis in a barrage of smoothness.

The lower soft hills of the Tetras were a brilliant, luscious green color, pimpled by freshly sawed tree stumps. The color of the stumps was even more brilliant, the orange wood fresh and wet against the ground, probably still alive. Some of the stumps had been gored out like a trimmed deer during hunting season, missing their veins and guts and life. I felt sad and heavy like the machinery that would come to haul the logs away.

While seeing the destruction in the name of profit happening all around me made me quiet, I did feel renewed by all the people I saw on the top of the mountain once we exited the cable car. I saw one family with a few kids, fairly young, all wearing hefty hiking boots and other clothes that you wear for hiking, I guess. They were eating their lunch out of round silver pans and it was like a picnic. After, I saw them rinsing their dishes and it included a few skillets and other pots and pans, so it became obvious to me that they had brought all their necessities with them. It made me want to become one of those nature people who goes hiking and cooks their lunch in the woods! Then I noticed all the gear they had with them and thought about how much of an investment that is, and decided I'd look pretty dorky in those bulky hiking boots. I decided to settle for living vicariously through them, which is enough for me.

I have some cool photos of the mountains, but my feelings about that remain the same in that you should probably just look online at some professional photographer's work and appreciate it just as much, if not more. I'll still share my photos when I get home, though.

I am getting pretty pumped for the garden and to be home and done with teaching! I decided teaching is not for me, by the way. We can talk about that later. I don't know how teachers do it. It's so frustrating to me how little they get paid and how absolutely painstaking and crucial their jobs are. Not to mention the hours of outside work that must be done: lesson planning, grading papers, organizing trips, and more. And the fact that most kids are disrespectful and have no idea how much work goes in to running a class successfully and how emotionally tolling it can be. Amiright?

Anyway - the bounty of the garden will be mine to enjoy in just over one fair week! One fair week!

Loves to you all.

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Hot

It's almost unbearable. Sleeping is a chore and I find myself waking up once or twice in the middle of the night every night now. I just want a fan or some a/c! I'd even take an Egyptian man in a loin cloth fanning me with a giant palm leaf. That would do, I guess...

It was especially bad trying to sleep last night because I had this awesome sunburn - tan lines are pretty awful - that made it 10x worse to try to get to sleep. I wanted to wear as few clothes as possible but still keep my door open to allow for cross ventilation but those two things don't combine very well especially when there's a 14 year old boy in the house.

You know that awkward unspoken relationship that forms when you see someone in their underwear that you weren't supposed to see in their underwear? Yeah... Last night I opened by bedroom door to let in some cool air and whoops! There was Marek across the hall in the bathroom, skivvies only. Hahaaaaaaaa... there was a split second of eye contact and I pretended not to see anything and quickly removed myself from sight. I stood alone in my room with my hands out and eyes open wide, eyebrows raised, not moving for a few seconds until I figured out what to do with myself. In the same moment, he pretended to have something important to say to Jarek and called him into the room. I know that move, though. I've done it before. There was nothing important to be said. It was a cover-up, an instinctual reaction to neutralize the awkwardness and provide some explanation as to why he had the door wide open while he was doing his pre-bed routine.

I'll leave you with that thought. I'll write more later about my Slovakian adventures! How often can you say "yeah...just went to Slovakia for the day. No biggie."

Lots of love and guess what only 9 days fools!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Blitz

I feel like this blog is sinking into narcissism. Isn't that what a blog is about though? I guess its real purpose is so I don't have to write 234598342 e-mails to each one of you anytime you get curious about what I'm doing. Yeah, that works.

Wow, only 10 days left! How and when did that happen? I'm getting really excited to come home. I can't wait to wake up on my last day here and bolt out of bed, full of energy.

Yesterday Gosia and I went to Krakow for some shopping. There is a brand new and absolutely huge mall there, and we killed the whole afternoon. I spent some zloty and came home with a few bags on my arm. One dress I got is really nice and I wore it to school today, but its transparency is a problem that I'm not sure how to solve. I realized that after I got home. Whoops! Sorry kids! All 9 of you! The train ride made me feel grimy and I was so glad to be home and take a bath and down a big bottle of water, filled in secret of course.

I'm pretty sure my hair is causing problems in this house. For one, I have a ton of it, so I shed twice as much as the next guy. Not only is it thick but the individual strands are thick too. They stick out like a sore thumb when contrasted to the clean, shiny tile and blonde hardwood floors in this house. I try to scoot them under the table or chair with my foot when I see some strands littering the ground, and have even hastily swept the floors when the family leaves the house. And I'm pretty sure my hair has clogged the bathtub drain... They won't be happy when they have to reach in and pull out a big clump of my red strands.

I am getting really. really. excited to come home to my mom's garden. I hear it's bursting with veggies. Let's have a vegetable party when I get back. We can overdose on homegrown produce and have some beer too.

Tonight some of us (the LE Tarnow group) are meeting in the main square in the city for some dinner and drinks. We're celebrating Claire's birthday, but it's really an excuse to get away from our host families and help break up the time a little. I'm getting tired of living here (I really hope they're not reading this!) and having to constantly deny food and assure them of my comfort. It's so exhausting! I'm getting frustrated and I think they can sense it. The kids weird me out. One is really loud and has dreadfully annoying speech even though I can't understand it. The other always stares at me and I pretend not to notice. I get stared at when I'm eating, or sitting on the couch reading, or sitting in my room and he walks by the door. Pretty soon I'm going to start staring back because I can't handle it anymore. He has these big cow eyes and that goddamned unibrow. I swear I'm going to take my tweezers to this entire family in their sleep. Do they not know how bad it is? The dad seriously has a hardcore unibrow - it's not even faint or lightly connected. I'm talking full-blown Muppet-style unibrow! All four family members have it but the dad's is the worst by far.

The girls who are in love with me in my class have become assertive and are creating Polish lessons for me. So awesome. I can just sit down and repeat words that they write on the board. Today I learned about the household and things in each room. They get a kick out of my bad pronunciations and I like that they get a taste of teaching and can see how hard it is. It was perfect because I had no lesson for today - was too tired last night to make one and just stopped caring. I have lots of leftover games and items to talk about that can get me through a good chunk of next week. One girl Magda will be gone next week, so today was her last day in class. At the end of class she did something very sweet: she handed me a gift and said that she wanted to say thank you to me for being a fucking awesome person. It was a box of fancy cherries covered with chocolate and swimming in liqueur, half of which I've eaten already. Best. Gift. Ever.

Something else cool: I made the cover of a Polish newspaper! The article isn't about LE though, it's about traveling by rail for summer vacation. Either way, check me out! I'm bringing home the real clipping in case this link doesn't work. I'll try to post an image here, too, but no promises. The photo was taken when our group met at the train station to head to Warsaw for our midpoint break.



I'm going to go lay in the sun and read now. It's extremely hot today. Sunburn!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Secret taps

One of the best parts about being in Warsaw as a group was realizing that we all miss tap water. Those of us who brought along our plastic and metal canteens revealed that each of us secretly fill them at night in our bathroom sinks! One girl takes a plastic bottle to keep in her bedroom and will drink it and then refill it, making sure to note the level of the water in the bottle and refilling it only up to that amount. This way she can disguise from her host mother that she has been drinking from the tap!

I was pondering this scenario and wondering why Europeans only drink bottled water. Sure, in some areas it might not be safe to drink directly from the tap, but we’re in a fairly modern place here. I know that my family back home has our tap water tested regularly for safety – why is that not standard practice here? It seems like Europeans do a decent job at conservation as is – smaller cars, great public transportation, elimination of plastic bags, recycling, no air conditioning, and more. Why have they not recognized the problems with bottled water?

I can hear a storm coming. Thank god! I hope it provides some relief from this heat. Lately I’ve really been enjoying reading in bed, and utilize the cat-shaped lamp on my desk by which to read. I must then choose between a stuffy room or fairly consistent mosquito attacks. If I leave the window open, it cools down my bedroom but the bugs are drawn to the cat lamp. Why can’t life be complete and simple?

The rain smells so good here. I’m not sure if it’s any different than at home, really, but after a storm the air feels clean and everything is refreshed. And suddenly snails appear everywhere! Last time it rained, I saw one on the patio and took a few macro photos. Then I looked around and noticed they littered the floor of the garden and were clumped together on the posts of the railing.

The storm is really going now. The thunder and lightening are intimidating and it’s kind of scary. I wish I could leave my window open ever so slightly to allow in some cool fresh air, but the rain pounded the panels too harshly and wetness appeared on the sill. I’ll wait for that reward in the morning when the leaves in the garden are still wet and the sun hasn’t had a chance to bake Tarnow and its buildings.

Today, class was rough. More students showed up, so I’m learning that I can’t really plan for anything too specific from now on. I was feeling a little under the weather and the kids were just not participating. They said they understood something, but then the corresponding activities went terribly wrong and it was revealed they actually knew nothing. They were giving me nothing to work with today – nobody answered my questions and I was forced to pick students from the group. Even then they didn’t participate. I felt my patience being overtaken by frustration. I imagined a fiber thread holding an anvil off a cliff like in Loony Toons, and with each failed exercise another fiber snapped until it was one measly thread. But hey – tomorrow is another day right? I get another chance to make it work. Hopefully I didn’t scare them all off today…

And now, folks, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: The Great American Silverware Smackdown Challenge!

So normally you hold your fork in your right hand, right? Unless you’re a lefty, but most lefties aren’t really real people – we all know this. And if you need to cut your steak, you put your fork down gently and switch your knife over to your dominant hand to commence sawing the muscle fiber into a chewable size. Then when you’re done cutting, you put the knife down gingerly and pick up the fork again. Back and forth for the entire meal until your bellies are swollen with food babies. People in Europe figured out a solution to this nonsense, and it involves the knife in the right hand and fork in the left, regardless of which hand is dominant. You are not allowed to scoop your food and you must turn your fork upside-down to stab your morsels. Go ahead, try it yourself. I’ve been attempting this new eating style for a meal here and there, and it usually includes some loud screeching of metal on porcelain, or some chunks of food being propelled from my plate and flopping onto the perfectly white table linen. I feel like a kindergartener learning to write with those giant crayons, fisting the whole thing and pressing way too hard on the paper. I should probably stop pretending to be European and accept my American status.

For some reason, I can’t successfully access certain websites on the wireless here. It’s not consistent though, and if I hit refresh enough times it will work. Half the time I can’t see my blog, and then the Shout Outs won’t load, and Google rarely works. I learned just to keep important pages like my e-mail and the LE blog open, but even that fails at times. I started using Bing as a substitute for Google, and it works every single time. I feel like a traitor using Bing. I get a little twinge every time I type it in and it appears in my address bar history. My most recent Bing search was to find lyrics for a Katy Perry song that I’m using in my lesson tomorrow on opposites. I had to buy the damn song on iTunes, too. I can’t believe I just paid $1.29 for it! Considering it’s a rather awful song – Hot n Cold. I have to be careful to skip the first stanza because it has a swear word!

I hate the whole idea of swear words. How do you explain that to a kid who is learning to speak? I remember when Isaac was way little and he’d repeat the word “damn” or some other swear word and we all got a good laugh from it. He saw us laughing, and that triggered something in his synapses about the word damn being some sort of silly, unique word. Now of course this is true for any type of learning across all ages, not just Isaac. It’s ridiculous when you think about it that a word is taboo or wrong to say. It’s a word – any word can be made taboo in the right context. Have you ever seen that Friends episode? They’re talking about how anything can be made suggestive. Joey says “Grandma’s chicken salad” and “there’s always room for Jell-o”. Sara would laugh right now.

I just finished a delicious dinner of ruskie pierogi – that’s dough pockets stuffed with potato and cheese. They’re served swimming in melted butter and some chopped chives. I ate way too many since I’m never able to make my own plates for dinner. I probably ate 15 or 20 of them. After, I felt pretty awful and Googled – or Binged (not binge, Bing – although the wordplay is rather fitting here) to find out just how many calories were in one pierogi. Wow, that was the worst idea I’ve had in a long time. I think I just consumed two days’ worth of calories in one meal! Expect me to look a little curvier when I get back…

Twelve days left! It’s like that Christmas song! I think I’ll make up my own to help keep track and nudge the time along.

On the twelfth night of blogging my readers gave to me…twelve e-mails for me to read!

With that, I bid you goodnight. More tomorrow. Maybe. I’m doing some shopping in Krakow so it will be a long day for me. Then Friday the LE group is meeting for a girl’s birthday in Tarnow, so perhaps no blog then either. But Saturday! Wait, Saturday I’m going to the mountains in Ukraine. Sunday? Not making any promises. I'll think of you when I'm traipsing though. Nah, not really. I just wanted to use the word traipsing.

Goodnight!

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Monday, July 12, 2010

Insert a soapy finger

Today I woke up and really surprised myself. As I descended the staircase to meet my family for breakfast, I thought what a wonderful day it was to be alive. The morning weather was so pleasant that I could put a stick in my eye (sorry KT). I knew breakfast would be delicious and I had a good lesson for the day. It probably helped that my outfit was cute and was having one of those accidentally great hair days.

Can you believe I actually had that thought? That it was a wonderful day to be alive? A year ago today I never would have thought that. I probably would have laughed at myself. It felt a little out of character for me to be so happy. I ran with it, though, and it’s been smooth sailing so far.

It made me think of this popular song. Can you guess where it’s from? 10 points to the first correct guess in the comments!

It's such a good feeling to know you're alive.
It's such a happy feeling - you're growing inside.
And when you wake up ready to say:
I think I'll make a snappy new day
It's such a good feeling, a very good feeling,
The feeling you know that we're friends.

Did anyone glance at the title of my last post and read it as lap dancer? I definitely did as I was proofreading it later on. I went back to edit it but then thought that I could disguise it as intentional. Now you know my secret. Lap dander just sounds gross.

Maybe 25% of my normal students showed up today. The group of older girls that adore me were there, as well as some of my younger pets, and a two boys who I’m sure had parents that made them come. My translator was absent today. She’s getting married soon and has a lot of work to do for her wedding, so I bet she was working on stuff for that. The younger kids, my second group, didn’t even come.

When my first class was over, I told them it was time to go home and said goodbye. None of them moved. I thought they didn’t understand me, so I told them class was over, told them to go outside and enjoy the weather, maybe go swimming. I did some pantomiming so they would understand, and opened the door and motioned them out, exaggeratedly waving goodbye. No reaction. They all wanted to stay! This made me nervous because I really had nothing prepared for them, only a lesson for the 5 – 8 year old kids who would normally show up at that time. That wasn’t going to fly because it involved learning left and right, the hokey pokey, and playing some simple and energetic games.

I decided to ask what they really really wanted to do for the rest of class. Turns out they really really wanted to play shark tag outside in the sweltering heat. They always want me to be the shark, and since there were so few kids today I really had no way out. Of course I’m wearing a pencil skirt and dressy shoes – perfect outfit for running around and getting sweaty. We made it work, though, and had fun. When that became boring, we played hide and seek and I did a photo shoot. I think I’ll have them give me 5-minute Polish lessons every day now. I can already count to five! They found it rather entertaining to hear my awful pronunciation and enjoyed correcting me. Success!

I’m pretty sure there was just a big misunderstanding with the advertisement of the class to the community. Initially I was told it’d be a four-week period. Then two two-week periods. Then they said the same kids would probably show up for all four weeks. I noticed on the school website that the dates for the class advertised only a two week period. So now I think that the second half of the class was never really advertised, and the kids who showed up today were just taking a chance or had ignorant parents. Either way, I’m really frustrated with all of this especially because of the amount of work I put in already and will have to put in over the remaining class time. My long-term project ideas are fluff now. All the supplies that I divvied out for the classes will probably remain unused because I’ve already done the lessons that require them. I know this isn’t supposed to be a vacation, and it’s certainly not, but hopefully next year it will be a little more organized. I’m thinking about applying for a leadership position with the organization, so maybe I can really make it happen!

On my drive to school every morning, we make a quick stop to pick up Magda. On the corner of her street is a man selling fire extinguishers. He has his little tent and lawn chair, and a display rack lined with bright red fire extinguishers of varying sizes. The little baby canisters are mixed up with the mammoths, and the bright red color is strange there on the side of the road. The handle and spigot parts look like broken limbs that were badly bandaged or awkward elephant trunks. In a way the color feels refreshing against the brown sand, dirty road and dingy faded buildings. But it also seems to be an invasion of industrial harshness into the lovely rolling green hills of Zawada. (If you're pronouncing that in your head, it sounds like Zavada.) Let me tell you, the view from the playground at school is absolutely breathtaking. Every time we go outside to play and round the corner of the building, I get soaked with brilliant vistas in all directions. It’s almost too much to take in at once, and I secretly face each direction for a few minutes to absorb everything when the kids are really into a game of shark tag.

I was in Warsaw over the weekend. It was exhausting. Over half the time was consumed by travel. Trains. Hot. Sticky. Dirty. Awful. So many hours. On the trip there, we couldn’t find seats and had to split up and stand the entire way. A few other volunteers and I were in the car with the toilet. Imagine being inside a handicapped sized Port-a-Potty during an 85 degree day. The refuse runs directly on to the train tracks below, and although I didn’t see it for myself, my friend who braved the bathroom said that if you look down into the toilet you can see the rail passing by beneath you.

In my opinion, Warsaw wasn’t worth the train rides there and back. Krakow is so much better! Everything in Warsaw was bombed in the war and rebuilt during 1945 – 1955. So nothing is spectacular and new, really. The old town district is made to look older than it is, and instead of using real stone blocks on building facades, they are just painted with a stone pattern. The architecture is purposely jagged and uneven so it has that old authentic feel, but the colors are too bright and crisp and do not align with the building structures. It made me feel irritated that they tried to copy a popular style in order to capitalize on it. I feel like Warsaw is an impostor city.

I should talk about the good things too. It wasn’t awful. The tallest building in Poland (don’t hold me to this claim) was there, called the Palace of Culture and Science. It was initially constructed by Josef Stalin and was previously known by his name. The people of Warsaw changed the name as soon as they possibly could, which was actually fairly recently if you’d believe it. We went up to the very top and enjoyed a great panoramic view. They also had a photo showcase of this display that I’ve seen before and really love: four different families photographed with all the food they consume in one week. Really a thought provoking display!

While we were at the top of the tower, someone made a comment about how well the city was planned out and arranged. I thought about this for a while, and then realized they had a second chance to create the city since everything was destroyed in a grim tale only six decades ago! A do-over, if you will.

It was, however, so amazing to see my group again. We shared teaching ideas with one another and had a great time partying in the evenings. We found a club called Tomba Tomba and bargained the cover charge down to half price to get in. We even met some girls from Chicago! It had maybe 6 floors and a basement, and different rooms designated for certain, ahem, activities. In order to find the entrance to the club, we circled the building about seven times before realizing we had to climb up a spiral staircase and weave through some castle ruins to get to the main entrance. A few of us decided to wear our sunglasses while dancing and it made me feel really cool, although my face was so sweaty that they kept sliding down my nose so I'd have to shove them back up with my index finger every five seconds like a librarian.

After the club we walked home together through the main part of the city. It was late but the downtown rynek was still busy. As we walked through the town square we noticed some people laying a man down on the ground and stopped to snoop, or rather investigate. He was inebriated in some fashion or another, and was making strange breathing noises. It seemed like he was unconscious. Then he started seizing on the ground and produced noises that were stranger yet. I thought we were going to have to perform an exorcism. That stopped after a minute, and he awoke and still wasn’t fully aware, but realized that there was a group of people staring at him and became angry. We left at that point but some people were really worried and felt the need to pray. I think it was a good excuse to draw attention and occupy the good Samaritan position. I’m probably just cynical though. The ambulance eventually came for him – we watched as it sped down the sidewalk and a group of people were forced to scatter and didn’t know which way to run. It was like that experiment when you take a bowl of water and put pepper on top and then insert a soapy finger and the pepper runs away.

We also took a bus tour that ended up lasting about 4 hours. I was tired from sitting by the end of the tour. We did get to do some walking for about an hour through a nice park. Warsaw has 86 parks including one called Bathroom Park, in Polski of course. Chopin was French and Polish and Warsaw was all about him. This year is the 200th anniversary of something related to him, but there are permanent parks in his name that have his music playing, his favorite flowers, a sculpture of him covered by a willow tree that is shaped like a hand resting on a piano, and more. The most interesting part of the tour, though, was when I met some nice people named Timbak and Piotr. They noticed our tour was speaking in English, and asked me what we were doing in Poland (I happened to have fallen to the back of the group and was strolling at a slow pace, making it more feasible for them to approach me.) We started talking about LE and Timbak shared some of his background. He was also an English teacher there, giving private lessons. He was raised in Canada, but spent many years living in Israel and even served in the military there. Of course the service is mandatory in Israel and he willingly moved there for the experience. After he decided he didn’t want to hold a gun, he was placed in military jail for a few weeks and then became a cook to finish his time. He said he ended up deserting the service, though.

We talked more and I hung back from my tour group, but stayed close enough so I could still hear parts of what the tour guide had to say and keep comfortably close to the group. Timbak was really excited about the LE program and shared some NGO ideas of his own, including a syndicated journalism project for Polish schools. We talked about my job at CMD and he said he had heard of us! We had some videos online that were pretty popular and of course some fame chalked up to W. Potter when he testified before the Supreme Court. It was a rather refreshing conversation for me!

The program director Katie and I found a neat map at the hostel that had various points of interest within walking distance, including a Riot Grrrl Club. If you don’t know what Riot Grrrl is, you should probably look it up, but if you’re too lazy it’s a feminist group with a punky feel. We really had no idea what the Riot Grrrl Club would hold for us: is it a dance club? is it a store? but the description made it sound like an infocenter. We walked a good two kilometers (metric, folks! I know that a 5K run is like 3.3 miles or something, so use that for a reference point) to the listed address, and found some type of warehouse with broken windows and tons of graffiti. To be fair, graffiti was everywhere so it’s not that unique to mention. The address system is so strange here and I still don’t get it – like six buildings can have the same address – so it took us a rather long time of running up each flight of stairs in each building and then down each dark hallway to try to find this place. We really kept looking and exhausting every possible building and strange hallway for a good hour. We even asked several different groups of people and no one had heard of it. Hearing native Polish speakers pronounce Riot Grrrl was awfully hilarious and we had a good laugh about it on the way home. It came out sounding like reee-oat garl club. Later we gave up and decided to find the vegetarian restaurant that was listed on the same map, but was nearer to our hostel in familiar territory. We walked all the way back and circled around the block with the vegetarian place’s address, and it was also nonexistent. We concluded that the map was outdated and gave up on it. Starving, we searched for a veg-friendly restaurant, passing about a dozen before finding a hip cafĂ© with writing on the windows that specialized in fresh juice and smoothies. So worth it.

Oh, boy, I have so much more to write but I’m losing my will rather quickly. I didn’t bring my laptop to Warsaw so in order to salvage my thoughts I jotted them down on scraps of paper, and am marking them off one by one as they are transformed from bits and fragments into paragraphs. I suppose I will save the rest for tomorrow. Get ready for some exciting things, including a silverware challenge and descriptions of odors that I’ve never encountered before and are impossible to have been made by a human.

Goodnight.

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