daisy summer pipers

Call it pre-mature, but it's started getting dark at 4:20pm instead of 4.11pm, and that means only one thing...

Spring and Summer on their way!

Unlike my sister who craves clouds and chilled weather, I crave intense hot sun on bare skin, bright blue skies, soft green grass on bare-feet and millions of wild daisies..

As the summer-expert Joni says;

Come and take me by the hand
There's so much to be seen
The fields are dancing daisy bright
Hills are dappled green...

...Stare into a mirror pool
And laugh so princely vain
The skies become kaleidoscopes
With no two turns the same

Ahh.. the joys of hours of light and sun and happiness that are to come..

Another One About This

My mind is swimming right now. Swimming with re-awakened feelings, thoughts, memories, passions. Being a TCK has been gently pressed to the back of my mind for the past few years - every new English experience has prodded it further back to the point that I don't even factor it into my life anymore.

And then there was discussion. Finding other people that echo my repressed thoughts, and being able to openly talk about it like it's normal - that what I feel is normal. It is lovely. (Ironic how it's the fact that we don't want to feel normal that unites us.)

I've also realised how many things I have problems with that are connected to being a TCK. For instance, I find it extremely difficult to find people that I even vaguely relate to. Everybody wants to put me in a category that they understand; "Oh it's because she's American" or "she's a girl, so she does that kind of thing". Hm. Me no likey categories. I like blurry lines and cross-overs. I like oxymorons. I like people that know enough to know they don't know anything. I like people who laugh at themselves, and find humour in absolutely everything. I like people who seek out knowledge, want to soak it up and swim around in it for a while.

Writing this blog has somehow turned into a re-awakening. And it excites me. It could not have come at a better time. I'm looking back on my life and wondering what my past has to do with my future. What have I learned? What does it mean? What do I know about me?

A Quarter Life Crisis

Since turning 25, weird things have started happening to me.

For instance: I've started worrying about the state of my skin (particularly two deepish lines on my forehead), I've been watching the BBC News in the morning before work, and I've started really wondering what old friends are up to.

This last one has proven a little difficult as I don't have any addresses/email addresses/phone numbers of any of them. I don't even know what country they live in these days. Unfortunately I have a habit of losing things (my phone, address book, my mind) and have no way of finding anyone. MySpace has been pretty helpful with this, but what about people that don't use their real name? That's just not fair!

I've managed to stalk down my four friends from University. All of us took most of the same classes, used to hang out together all the time, and in our third year we all lived happily together. I was curious to find out if any of us were doing what we said we would - were we still the idealistic sociologists we once were at university? It turns out none of us are doing anything vaguely to do with our degree.

Subject number 1 has gone back to university to train as a primary school teacher.

Subject number 2 is working with the police as an 'intelligence officer'

Subject number 3 is 6 months pregnant. Wow.

Subject number 4 has started her own company producing her very own homemade chutneys.

Say what now?

I am really very happy for all of them - they seem to know what they want and they're going out there and getting it. But writing people to tell them what I'm doing? It's not so fun. I wish I wasn't so down on lying so that I could just make some stuff up. I constantly feel like I'm making excuses for myself.

I can't help feeling slight inadequacies in myself here. I've had the most unproductive 2 years out of everybody. Am I just being lazy? Did I make the wrong choice somewhere? I need some kind of kick up the back side. I need to get another job, but as soon as I start looking I just get depressed. I just need to suck it up and do it. Good advice for myself, but not so easy to do!

So now I'm going to get off of this blog thing and start applying like there's no tomorrow.

Bits and Bobs

My mind does funny ol' things when it's tired.

Lack of sleep makes me have frantic, constant, staccato thoughts that are just plain random and useless. Last night while I was taking a *relaxing* bath, all I could think about was conversations I'd had in the day, playing them back in my mind like some boring black and white rerun. At one point I think I even said out loud 'What are you doing! Why are you thinking about that?' It was like I was on some kind of brain speed pill. (which I definitely am not) The grasshopper in my brain works triple-time trying to confuse me and everyone around me with maximum effect.

The more tired I am, the more the repressed O.C.D. side of me tries to get out. I get home, and a sock lying by the couch drives me insane. The tiny layer of dust on the TV (developed from only last week when I deliriously dusted it last time I was tired) almost has me in convulsions. I want everything to be perfect! I will not relax until it's all in place! But most of the time I'm just too tired to do anything about it.

The point of me telling you this today is that my post will represent the resident grasshopper in my head - bits of random thoughts as they come to me.

*There is a baby mouse living in my house. And it's not a pet. I'm not actually a person that's afraid of mice, but we need to get rid of it before it starts breeding and we have a mini mouse colony. I also don't think it helps that just recently I have watched the movie 'Mouse Hunt'. I go to bed at night expecting it to be making itself a nice pesto pasta and find it napping on our fluffy white bread loaf. I don't think I need to worry though, because it doesn't seem to like me much. I haven't even seen it - it appears to Conrad at different times during the evening and shies away whenever I come into the room.

*Goji Berries may be the new super food, but they give you zits. Lots of them. It is true that they make you hyper and happy and fill you up all nice and yummily, but I have 3 zits on my face right now - more then I ever had during my whole period of adolescence. It's embarrassing.

*We are heading down to Southampton this weekend to visit Conrad's cousin and his lovely girlfriend (and also his aunt and uncle). I'm pretty excited - it's nice to have 'family' to go visit that are so close!

*Thanks to the brave souls who shared their opinion with me in the last comment section! I was listening to my mp3 player on the way to work and a song I have heard a million times kind of jumped out. I had no idea what it was about, I always sort of listened to the tune. This seems to echo my thoughts on the previous post. So I will leave you with these words; (And then I promise I'll shut up about it!)

Crime For Crime the big day has come and the bell is sounding i run my hands thru my hair one last time outside the prison walls the town is gathering the people are trading crime for crime everyone needs to see the prisoner they need to make it even easier by seeing me as a symbol and not a human being that way they can kill me and say it's not murder it's a metaphor we are killing off our own failure and starting clean i am standing at the gallows everyone turned my way and i hear a voice ask me if i've got any last words to say i am looking out over a field of familiar eyes somewhere in a woman's arms a baby cries i say guilt and innocence are a matter of degree and what is justice to you might not be justice to me i went too far and i'm sorry i guess now i'm going home so let he amongst you cast the first stone nowadays we have all kinds of complicated machines so no one person ever has to have blood on their hands we have complex organizations and if everyone just does their job no one person ever has to understand you might be the wrong color you might just be too poor justice isn't something just anyone can afford you might not pull the trigger you might be out in the car and you might get a lethal injection 'cuz we take metaphors that far the big day has come and the bell is sounding i run my hands thru my hair one last time outside the prison walls the town is gathering the people are trading crime for crime the people are trading crime for crime people are still trading crime for crime (A. DiFranco)

Warning: Opinion Being Aired

There has been a lot of media coverage in the past week over Saddam Hussein’s execution. When I first heard about it I was shocked and somewhat appalled. The first thought I had was “They still do hangings?” I thought that this ancient punishment had gone out with the Wild West. And secondly to find out that people were happily watching footage of this? Surely, as human beings, enjoying the death of somebody else is against every moral that exists – not only Christian, but as citizens of earth.

I suppose this brings across a larger question as a whole about the death penalty. Personally, I believe it is 1 million per cent wrong. Killing someone is wrong. Who are we to judge who can live or die? Who are we to say that they will never repent, change, and recover in any way?

I am stealing this idea a little bit from Conrad – but isn't sending someone to p

rison about rehabilitation? Sending someone to prison isn’t just about letting them rot until they die, but about giving people a chance to change. I do understand that there are some sicko’s out there, and for the most part perhaps they will not change. But how do we know?

Isle of The Mighty wrote a post about this and in his comments has tried to answer my ponderings;

“…the definition of "murder" needs to be nailed down. If murder is merely anytime one
person kills another, regardless of circumstance, then I think we quickly
develop some difficulties--for example, if a man were to attack my wife and son
and I were to kill him the process of defending them, am I a murderer? Am I the
same as the man the stalks women and murders them brutally for pleasure?

If we acknowledge that there is more than one category for those that
take the life of another person, then I think we are in a position to begin
considering what is going on when the government uses its authority to sanction
the killing of a criminal. At that point the discussion becomes much more
interesting; I think the first thing we must ask is, what is the role of the
government?”

I like reading what he has to say. It's important to hear the 'other side' for my own sake, to understand why I am so against it. I think it's difficult to find the line between what we punish for and what we do not - But surely if we're uncertain about this, including death in the equation is just the wrong way to go.

I know that to many people I will just be coming across as 'liberal' (I'm also not much of one for labels) - but people causing death just sits wrong with me. Taking joy in someone's soul being put out makes my heart wrench. Yes, Suddam Hussein was a terrible person who murdered a lot of people. I just don't see how somebody else's crimes can justify another murder taking place.

I am writing these words here in a country and office where I feel somewhat mainstream with my thoughts. I know that some of my thoughts may offend - I hope not. As I hesitated to write these ramblings down, I started to wonder why I should worry about what I'm saying - surely writing a blog is about getting your thoughts down onto screen? I definitely know that my thoughts are not complete.

I would love to hear your opinions on the subject.

Disturbing Finger and Restaurant Review

Last night Conrad and I went to Gallipoli's Bazaar in Islington.

I just want to have it out there in cyber space that this restaurant was soooo good. The food was Turkish, amazingly tasty and plentiful. The staff were extremely friendly and helpful - I almost wanted to invite them to join us at our table.

We had the Meze to start with, which made me so full I could hardly eat my main meal - but it was all just sooo good!

So if you're out and about in North London, definitely get your butt down to Gallipoli's Bazaar! It's excellent!

I also thought that you would all appreciate a little bit of nasty-finger update: It hurts.

Hope you all have a great Saturday!

Oh How I Love You

I have just spent the last hour in a time warp. Destination: Manila circa 1995.

And it was good.

Allow me to give you a mini visual tour.

Jeepneys! The easiest, cheapest, most culture-full kind of transport in Philippines.

I found it funny and perhaps a little strange that the pictures that took me back the most were of the roads and traffic. I guess I spent a lot of time driving around (as did everyone)!

Proof that The Philippines knows how to rain:

Typhoon season was always pretty exciting. My family will laugh at how much I miss all the rain and wind because I spent most of the worst typhoons thinking that our roof was going to blow off and we were all going to die. Not at all dramatic of me!

Looking through familiar sights of Manila have made me realise how much my need to work for a charity has been shaped by the 2 short years in Manila. The hankerings to work in International Development and Charitiy stretched in my soul the more I looked through the impoverished scenes.

People are in desperate need.

The living conditions are unbelievable. The telephone wires here were a completely normal sight.


Looking at this picture, I can smell the dense twilight air. I can taste the thick humid smog. I am there:

Smog and pollutions really make for beautiful sunsets over Manila's skyline. Apparently this was taken nearby where my school was (Valley Golf).

It's so easy to forget about this world that is so far out of reach from where I am right now. Trawling through people's perspectives of one of my homelands has made me sure of one thing:

I still love it. I still need to have Manila be part of me. It may not be the idyllic beaches and bamboo huts that people associate with The Philippines (don't get me wrong, I love that aspect too) but I need the hectic, chaotic sights of Manila. The dis-organised, full of hope and life city that is so much a part of my heart.

Memories courtesy of Jim Rohrer, Paolopicones, Parc Cruz,Canlasa, Natrine

Ouch!

Well I am experiencing The Land Of One-Handed Typing for the first time in my life. And I don't like it!

This morning on my way out of the house, I somehow managed to slam the door onto my fourth finger of my left hand. I don't know how to describe the pain that ensued - I don't think it's possible. I honestly thought I was going to die. I've been taking pain killers all day, because otherwise, all I do is just sit here and try and move my hand into a comfortable position where it isn't throbbing and threatening to pop off my fingernail.

I don't like it!

So, alas, I can not type anymore today.

I can't believe how long it's taken me to type that tiny paragraph!

Musing

I have been perusing some other TCK's blogs recently. It astounds me that there are people I have never met that can express my thoughts better then I can.

Dreaming of Hanoi describes what it is like to itch and yearn to travel again; "It is ambition--to travel, to see and be seen, to meet and love and revel in all the riches of the world--that so plague me"

Most days I try and stifle my ambition. Everything about my life is so mundane and English. Oh to be struggling with the cultural norms of another culture - I thrive on things being uncertain. I think that the level of certainty in normal life panics me a little. Bear with me here, because this doesn't actually make any logical sense. Mundane life (everything being the same, understanding cultural norms, etc.) creates an uneasiness inside of me. If I understand the cultural norms, that means that I have to adhere to them. When being in a new, exciting culture your soul and mind is free. You are who you are - You find out things about yourself that disappear in normal life. I suppose I find normality to be somewhat like hibernation. There is no need to think or feel - you can function on auto-pilot. When thrown into a situation, that is when you find out who you are, what you feel, and what your soul is telling you.

Capische?

Me neither.

My adult life has been shaped so much by England. My mannerisms are that of an English girl. I am reserved, polite, emotionally-retentive. I am also an American girl. I understand most cultural aspects of America - My time in Manila made me quite American - would you believe it? To the untrained ear, I sound American.

It's strange to have roots in such opposite cultures - how would you ever be able to 'go home'? I ache to 'go home' and smell the hot melting tarmac and burning tires of Manila. At the same time I long to get lost in warm scented fields, light-green forests and bask in the half-sun next to the lapping Rhine.

Everything becomes complicated. A simple question 'where are you from' brings so many emotions. Firstly, how do you answer that? If I actually venture an answer I hold my breathe in anticipation of their reaction. You can usually tell within seconds whether you will like them or not. One sure-fire way to know that you will not be fast friends is a retort such as 'Philippines.. that's Jewish right? From the Bible?'

WHAT? And secondly, WHAT?!

It also panics me to write about this. How can I express it? How can it be transposed from my heart into cold in-flexible type head? My feelings are much too complicated. And my thoughts are far too mixed up. It would be so easy to misunderstand me - I love all countries that I represent. In one way, I do not miss having a 'home'. I am lucky to have many. It is strange the places that I have found myself feeling that I am at 'home'.

"Like many TCKs, I am not really sure where home is... Over the years, I’ve come to realize that I feel most at “home” when I’m with other TCKs and expats. Home, therefore, is not so much a place, but the sense of belonging I feel when I’m around people who understand me." (Dreaming of Hanoi)

January Blues

So. Today is the 2nd of January. How un-exciting. What an anti-climax. Normality at it's worst. Today is the day that work seems to be going soooo slowly. My body is just not used to having to sit staring at a screen for 9 hours! Where's all the chocolate? Why can't we have 3 main meals a day anymore? I feel like watching a movie, why am I sat here on this uncomfortable chair in high heels? Where are my snowman PJ's?

To ease my boredom and disappointment I have been looking online for jobs. Apparently the beginning of January is NOT a hopping time to be looking for a job. Every single place says 'There are currently no vacancies'. I would have thought that the start of a new year would be flush with jobs? Let's hope tomorrow will be better.

My stomach is having serious chain-eating withdrawals.

Tonight when I get home, we have to take down our Christmas tree. How depressing is that? All the joy and love showered onto this un-knowing object, and then it gets cut down in one swift blow. Poor tree! It won't know what hit him! He's not even droopy yet! It's not his time!

I also have one of those annoying headaches that just doesn't go away, no matter how many extra-strong painkillers you take.

Talk about January Blues!!!