I have a few "rules" for myself when posting personal stories on this blog:
1. Have it be positive.
2. If it can’t be positive then have it be either meaningful (which is positive in a way) or funny.
3. If posting a story that is both tragic and funny don’t let it demean people who may potentially read the blog or be recognized by a reader
4. Don’t be TOO personal. It is the internet after all (this may be the rule I break most often!).
Well, for these reasons I have failed to post much on my blog in the last month. I think job hunting may be akin to Chinese Water Torture, although I’ve never had the “pleasure” of the latter. I vacillate between being overwhelmed and being whelmed by this seemingly monumental task. I am living with an older couple (friends of my parents) who are great for funny day-to-day stories, but I’m not quite sure they’d appreciate me sharing them over the internet. They are providing me with free housing and I think that as a guest who would like to stay it’s best to keep their very personal quirks to myself. And finally I am meeting loads of new people which of course lead to fantastically awkward situations, but I’d hate to post these stories about them over the internet only to find out later we could have become best friends if it weren’t for what I wrote about them on my blog!
I do have a great story from a few weeks ago (has it really been that long?). Ted, the father of the household, and I were sitting down to a dinner of leftovers (since Sheryl was out doing RS service that evening). We turned on the Olympics. Since Ted is not interested in hockey he turned the TV to curling. I teased him about choosing curling over hockey, but to no avail, he wouldn’t change the channel. I then insisted that if I was to be subjected to curling I must know the rules of the game. He didn’t seem to know much, so I skimmed the article about curling on Wikipedia and related what I learned to Ted.
By the time Sheryl came home Ted and I were sitting on the edge of our seats with empty dinner plates in front of us, watching the last few ends, and saying things like, “Well we still have a chance to salvage this one, we do have the hammer!” I have never before enjoyed so thoroughly a night of discussing curling strategy and I’m afraid I never will again, but that’s OK because I had a great time.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
A Quiet Moment in DC
For those of you trying to keep up with my recent adventures I've finished my delightful stay in New York and am now residing near the D.C. area. I arrived two weeks ago (to the day) and this story actually took place at the end of my first week here.
I came into the city to meet up with Chrissy, my yoga teacher from New York, to take a yoga class together. I needed to see a familiar face and reconnect with my lovely month of yoga. I'd met plenty of friendly faces that week, but all of them unfamiliar. And while I love to meet new people, even I have my limits.
I came into the city early to get my first look around the place I decided to make my new home. I meandered into a delightful Whole Foods Store, purchased a few things, and snacked on them while sitting and writing in their cafe. Since I had no other intentions than getting to know the area I decided to wander over to the White House.
As I approached the building's "backyard" I saw a few tourists taking pictures, some haggard looking employees trickling out the side exit, and police eying me and my long yoga bag suspiciously. I made my way to the front of the building. As I walked I thought of all that must be going on in there. With Obama trying to live up to his big campaign of change and working to recover from this failed health bill, people must be working all hours. My mind soon hopped back into the seemingly never ending contemplation of my job hunt. As I fretted, strategized, and pep talked to myself I found my legs had brought me to that famous view of the White House.
My mind paused. I just stood there interrupted by only a few tourists who braved the cold and snow to see this famous residence too. I let my mind settle on the majesty related to this nation. While I do tend to be a bit...hesitant in my feelings of patriotism, I have my moments. And this was one of them. As I stood watching the evening fall I felt simple awe. Knowing that no matter what the most recent scandal in government is I will probably continue to feel this lingering sense of pride for what this nation continues to be. It is so much bigger than any one person. And for that brief moment I caught a small glimpse of that.
I came into the city to meet up with Chrissy, my yoga teacher from New York, to take a yoga class together. I needed to see a familiar face and reconnect with my lovely month of yoga. I'd met plenty of friendly faces that week, but all of them unfamiliar. And while I love to meet new people, even I have my limits.
I came into the city early to get my first look around the place I decided to make my new home. I meandered into a delightful Whole Foods Store, purchased a few things, and snacked on them while sitting and writing in their cafe. Since I had no other intentions than getting to know the area I decided to wander over to the White House.
As I approached the building's "backyard" I saw a few tourists taking pictures, some haggard looking employees trickling out the side exit, and police eying me and my long yoga bag suspiciously. I made my way to the front of the building. As I walked I thought of all that must be going on in there. With Obama trying to live up to his big campaign of change and working to recover from this failed health bill, people must be working all hours. My mind soon hopped back into the seemingly never ending contemplation of my job hunt. As I fretted, strategized, and pep talked to myself I found my legs had brought me to that famous view of the White House.
My mind paused. I just stood there interrupted by only a few tourists who braved the cold and snow to see this famous residence too. I let my mind settle on the majesty related to this nation. While I do tend to be a bit...hesitant in my feelings of patriotism, I have my moments. And this was one of them. As I stood watching the evening fall I felt simple awe. Knowing that no matter what the most recent scandal in government is I will probably continue to feel this lingering sense of pride for what this nation continues to be. It is so much bigger than any one person. And for that brief moment I caught a small glimpse of that.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Alone, but Not Lonely this Valentines
My sister and brother-in-law celebrated the holiday by joining a group of couples for a progressive dinner that ended with dessert at their house Saturday night. Rather than bumming around the house with the babysitter or (as Bridget Jones would say) spend time with “lots of smug married people” I decided to have an outing to the city.
I made plans to meet up with a friend and her sister in Brooklyn to eat dessert at the Chocolate Room around 7 or 8, but she had to make an emergency run to Ikea (what an emergency run to Ikea entails would have to be a post of its own). For the purposes of this post the Ikea run left me with a few hours to kill. I ate hot dogs with some random friends I ran into during an evening session at the temple. Our happenstance group parted. I took a subway to Times Square for a quick look around and then headed to a jazz bar in the village.
I pulled up a barstool in the corner, ordered a “Virgin drink. Something fruity.” And sat down with my juice to enjoy music and people watching. An older German speaking couple, a flamboyantly gay man trying the wine before buying, a waitress upset about her low tipping table, a bald old Asian man dancing while playing the electric guitar, and the circus of bartenders running around pouring, shaking, and serving drinks were all part of the entertainment.
Between sets the female half of the “older couple” went to the restroom while I felt ready for another drink. I stood next to her empty stool trying to catch the eye of a bartender. The male half of the “older couple” started moving his partner’s coat and offered me the seat.
I said, “Oh. No. No thanks I have a seat” motioning to the seat behind him.
He continued to move the coat and offer the empty bar stool and in a thick German accent said, “When an attractive woman comes by. You always offer her a seat.”
I smiled at the silly notion of sitting between this gray haired man and the gay guy while the poor woman in the bathroom would be left sitting on the other side of the old German, the one at the end of the bar. “Isn’t your...is that your wife?...in the bathroom?”
“Oh she’s not my wife!! She’s not even my girlfriend!! We’re not...uh...” He seemed mortified that I would assume they were in a relationship! “No, I am a kind of tour guide. She is on a tour. She is like my client. We’re both in this tour group. And we were just having dinner.” He couldn’t spit the words out fast enough!
“Well, I just wanted to order a drink. But they’re not looking over here.” I said, nodding to the group of chatting bartenders. “Thank you though.” I finally caught the eye of one of the bartenders, ordered a glass of Coke and walked back to my seat in the back.
Near the end of the set the couple stood and put on their coats. The man looked over to me. With a look of longing he said, “It’s a shame you’re here alone.”
“Oh no. I’m meeting up with some friends later.” Showing him the cell phone in my hand, “They’ve been caught somewhere. So, I’m waiting to meet up with them.”
He waved his hand as if batting away the 'lie' he thought I told, shook his head and gave me a once over glance as if thinking to himself, “if only I was a few years younger.” He said, “A young woman as attractive as you...It is a real shame.”
I smiled and bid them a good night and a good stay in New York. The pleasantries were reciprocated and they left.
I leaned back on the wall behind me and smiled. While I may look a bit pathetic drinking alone, I was quite content with my solitude.
I made plans to meet up with a friend and her sister in Brooklyn to eat dessert at the Chocolate Room around 7 or 8, but she had to make an emergency run to Ikea (what an emergency run to Ikea entails would have to be a post of its own). For the purposes of this post the Ikea run left me with a few hours to kill. I ate hot dogs with some random friends I ran into during an evening session at the temple. Our happenstance group parted. I took a subway to Times Square for a quick look around and then headed to a jazz bar in the village.
I pulled up a barstool in the corner, ordered a “Virgin drink. Something fruity.” And sat down with my juice to enjoy music and people watching. An older German speaking couple, a flamboyantly gay man trying the wine before buying, a waitress upset about her low tipping table, a bald old Asian man dancing while playing the electric guitar, and the circus of bartenders running around pouring, shaking, and serving drinks were all part of the entertainment.
Between sets the female half of the “older couple” went to the restroom while I felt ready for another drink. I stood next to her empty stool trying to catch the eye of a bartender. The male half of the “older couple” started moving his partner’s coat and offered me the seat.
I said, “Oh. No. No thanks I have a seat” motioning to the seat behind him.
He continued to move the coat and offer the empty bar stool and in a thick German accent said, “When an attractive woman comes by. You always offer her a seat.”
I smiled at the silly notion of sitting between this gray haired man and the gay guy while the poor woman in the bathroom would be left sitting on the other side of the old German, the one at the end of the bar. “Isn’t your...is that your wife?...in the bathroom?”
“Oh she’s not my wife!! She’s not even my girlfriend!! We’re not...uh...” He seemed mortified that I would assume they were in a relationship! “No, I am a kind of tour guide. She is on a tour. She is like my client. We’re both in this tour group. And we were just having dinner.” He couldn’t spit the words out fast enough!
“Well, I just wanted to order a drink. But they’re not looking over here.” I said, nodding to the group of chatting bartenders. “Thank you though.” I finally caught the eye of one of the bartenders, ordered a glass of Coke and walked back to my seat in the back.
Near the end of the set the couple stood and put on their coats. The man looked over to me. With a look of longing he said, “It’s a shame you’re here alone.”
“Oh no. I’m meeting up with some friends later.” Showing him the cell phone in my hand, “They’ve been caught somewhere. So, I’m waiting to meet up with them.”
He waved his hand as if batting away the 'lie' he thought I told, shook his head and gave me a once over glance as if thinking to himself, “if only I was a few years younger.” He said, “A young woman as attractive as you...It is a real shame.”
I smiled and bid them a good night and a good stay in New York. The pleasantries were reciprocated and they left.
I leaned back on the wall behind me and smiled. While I may look a bit pathetic drinking alone, I was quite content with my solitude.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Just Can't Shake the Marriage Lecture
Tonight's FHE lesson was given by Eve, my four year old niece. Over dinner we asked her what she wanted to do for her lesson and she said she wanted to "read scriptures" and play Hullabaloo for her lesson.
Eve set up Hullabaloo while Jana, my sister, and I got our copies of the scriptures. However, when it was Eve's turn to teach she stood up, walked over to the end table, and started pulling magazines off the stack saying, "Wait, I'm not ready." She pulled out a copy of The Friend, opened the magazine to random page that had a picture of the Salt Lake Temple, and said, "We're going to talk about temples."
Brooks, my brother-in-law, asked her, "OK, what do you want to teach us about the temple?"
Eve, "You get married in the temple."
We couldn't help but laugh a little as Jana winked at me and said, "Well, I guess this lesson is for Liann."
Eve continued with dignity as her audience tried to hold back giggles. She talked about how you get married in the temple "because then you have children and start a family." She took a short topical detour to Joseph Smith's First Vision. Tried to re-find the page with the picture of the temple, gave up, and then concluded the lesson with a reminder that when you marry in the temple "God blesses you." We then played Hullabaloo, had a closing prayer, treats, and played a different game for our real activity.
Singles ward or no singles ward, somehow God still manages to slip the marriage talk in there somewhere.
Eve set up Hullabaloo while Jana, my sister, and I got our copies of the scriptures. However, when it was Eve's turn to teach she stood up, walked over to the end table, and started pulling magazines off the stack saying, "Wait, I'm not ready." She pulled out a copy of The Friend, opened the magazine to random page that had a picture of the Salt Lake Temple, and said, "We're going to talk about temples."
Brooks, my brother-in-law, asked her, "OK, what do you want to teach us about the temple?"
Eve, "You get married in the temple."
We couldn't help but laugh a little as Jana winked at me and said, "Well, I guess this lesson is for Liann."
Eve continued with dignity as her audience tried to hold back giggles. She talked about how you get married in the temple "because then you have children and start a family." She took a short topical detour to Joseph Smith's First Vision. Tried to re-find the page with the picture of the temple, gave up, and then concluded the lesson with a reminder that when you marry in the temple "God blesses you." We then played Hullabaloo, had a closing prayer, treats, and played a different game for our real activity.
Singles ward or no singles ward, somehow God still manages to slip the marriage talk in there somewhere.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Don’t have a grocery store nearby? Don’t worry there’s a Starbucks right around the corner.
I think Starbucks sustains life in New York City. There is at least one (if not 2 or 3) within a 2 block radius from almost any point in the city. And they seem to have plenty of business when I walk by. I’m not sure if the city planner was involved, but seriously I wonder if the city would just shut down without a regular supply of Seattle’s best coffee.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Liann the Yoga Teacher
Well, it’s over. My month long intensive yoga teacher training is finished.
While I sat with my fellow yoga teachers in our last circle together I felt myself getting quite emotional. However, in classic Liann style I couldn’t express any of it in the moment. (Before any of you laugh out loud I’ll explain.) I tend to express my day to day emotions with copious amounts of words, but when they run deep I find it difficult to say much at all. Later that night I found myself on the train ride home crying into my journal as I tried to write what I felt.
As I sift through my emotions the words that stick out most are: Gratitude, deep and enduring gratitude. A glowing, radiant, yet peaceful happiness. And finally a great deal of sadness that comes with the end of anything beautiful.
Ever since I made this decision, people have asked, “Why a yoga teacher training?” And my answer tended to be a rambling one. While I had my reasons, when explained in the light of casual conversation they just didn’t sound that convincing.
But I never expected to feel the way I do about this last month. So much so that I’m even having a hard time expressing it here. While I think my last few blog entries have been a bit clever they dance around what has been really going on in my life.
So, here it is, for all you avid readers (don’t worry I’m not that delusional about how many there are of you). I AM A YOGA TEACHER (well almost. I’m one take home test and two homework assignments away from being certified). And while I never expected my life to take such a “hippie” turn, I’m very grateful it did.
While I sat with my fellow yoga teachers in our last circle together I felt myself getting quite emotional. However, in classic Liann style I couldn’t express any of it in the moment. (Before any of you laugh out loud I’ll explain.) I tend to express my day to day emotions with copious amounts of words, but when they run deep I find it difficult to say much at all. Later that night I found myself on the train ride home crying into my journal as I tried to write what I felt.
As I sift through my emotions the words that stick out most are: Gratitude, deep and enduring gratitude. A glowing, radiant, yet peaceful happiness. And finally a great deal of sadness that comes with the end of anything beautiful.
Ever since I made this decision, people have asked, “Why a yoga teacher training?” And my answer tended to be a rambling one. While I had my reasons, when explained in the light of casual conversation they just didn’t sound that convincing.
But I never expected to feel the way I do about this last month. So much so that I’m even having a hard time expressing it here. While I think my last few blog entries have been a bit clever they dance around what has been really going on in my life.
So, here it is, for all you avid readers (don’t worry I’m not that delusional about how many there are of you). I AM A YOGA TEACHER (well almost. I’m one take home test and two homework assignments away from being certified). And while I never expected my life to take such a “hippie” turn, I’m very grateful it did.
Rats
I met my first bonafide New York rat the other morning. I was walking on 55th Street between Park and Lexington as I saw this skinny rat scurry right past me! I’ll admit I jumped and maybe even yelped. He wasn’t as large or fat as I expected a New York rat to be. I mean I saw much fatter Indian rats—although I think those rats may benefit from the Hindu principle of ahimsa (non violence).
Interestingly, Aliza (a friend from the yoga training) told me that the population of New York rats is large because they are able to navigate the grid system here. I find that idea very fascinating somehow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)