It's not all bad....

          Truly. It's not. Good things remain even when you're flat broke. Everyone is a heartbeat away from being worse off than they currently are. What? Am I wrong? Well, then, shut it! Heh, heh. The trick is to look at the good things. Search them out if you must. I heard they like to hide (or so it seems).
          I, in no way, am implying that anyone should ignore the problems at hand. But I do believe that sometimes if we notice the good things we have, it makes it a lot easier to cope with the giant landfill of problems we have awaiting us... RIGHT NOW!
          I try not just to notice the good things, but really feel them. Otherwise they are just 'nice'. Not helpful. And by the way, this is not easy. A long time ago, I decided I did not like feeling depressed, and slowly I learned how to drag myself out of it, or keep myself from falling into it (depending on when I noticed, I am not always quick nor am I perfect. Surprised you right?!). I wish I could say there was an easy formula, and that it worked every time for everybody. But one, that would be a bold face lie (however if you believed me, I have a bridge to sell you.....). Two, everyone is different so it would have to change a little or a lot for everyone. For some, what works for me would be the antithesis of what would work for them. Three, even if it usually works, it won't always. We are human. I am human. But hey, if you come up with a cure all- call me, maybe I'll buy your bridge!
          I have veered slightly, so let me get back on track. Being strapped for cash is not fun. True enough. Especially when the economy is having a big ass snort laugh right in your face. Just sayin'. It's harder yet when there are two of you to worry about. I won't get into all the different worries, but there are many. And yes it makes everything hard. And the ease in which anyone could fall emotionally into oblivion is astounding. Almost tempting for some.
          However, some of these worries I have been through before. Those, for me, are the easy ones (well, at least as painless as baking brownies in an easy bake oven! hee,hee). Those are the ones I know how to navigate. The others not so much. Luckily some of the others can be put at bay. Not all though. And I am not an island. Now I worry about not just me and my situation, but also my man and our situation. It matters not that he is a grown man and can handle himself. We are a team, and I have his back. And he's got mine.
          Consequently, one of my coping skills is noticing those small things. You know what I mean, the sound of the ocean against the rocks at night once the traffic has stopped. The small moment of sun on a stormy day. Siestas!!!! Amazing home cooked meals (okay, my boyfriend is a magician in the kitchen), and home cooked meals can taste wonderful AND save money. Bonus! Even the things as small as being able to wear the pair of socks I really want to wear on the day I want to wear them (as opposed to having to wait a day because they are dirty). What I love socks!
          Yes, some of these sound cheesy. And some sound silly. Even so, they are all true. I could name many more but to do so would be pointless. Everyone has their own. I will say however that one of my favourites is the way my boyfriend makes me laugh. Yeah, yeah.... I am not looking for a sigh or smile here, it's just what works for me.
          And remember, your situation, mine, everyone's..... can always be worse than it is now. So freakin' enjoy what you can while it lasts! Sorry, had to do it.

Laugh, love, and smile damn it!

kimbersfrog 

There are times, that I am inappropriate.....

         Yes at times I can be, well a little inappropriate. And that, my friends might be an understatement. Don't get me wrong, I can be very polite even charming at times (although usually through humour or awkwardness). And there are plenty of occasions in which I am correctly connected to the situation I am in (I know it's shocking!). Those of you who know me can probably agree. Or not.
          I am only going to write about one of these improper behaviours. It follows me to this day. When I am with my family, it seems to work out just fine, because they are equally inept at controlling themselves in these situations. However, placing a friend in a situation like this with me, is not a good thing. Even, if I warn them ahead of time. The end result is generally a promise to never return with me again. Fair enough.
           I will start at the beginning. When my sister and I were young we periodically visited my father's mother on our own. Only a few times. On those occasions, she brought us to church. I was 5, my sister was about 3 and 1/2. And we didn't know anything about church at the time.
          We were asked to pretend we were singing and to be very quite. We tried. We were actually fairly successful. However a lot of nudging went on about those fruit basket hats the women were wearing. I mean really, how a hat that nests a bunch of plastic fruit (that by the way appears to be old dried or dead fruit) in it equals their love of god and all things sacred, I will never know. But back then, all I thought was they looked funny. My sister too.
          We were however, very quietly giggling and nudging each other. We really didn't want to make my grandmother angry. That was never a good thing. We managed quite well, until the singing started. Then everybody got up and then down on their knees. And again. And again. All throughout the song. Many of you know what I am talking about. As a kid, who had no idea what it was about, nor anyone who would explain it... well, we thought it was hysterical. All those weird hats, voices singing that were bad, good and all over the place, creaking chairs and weird ups and downs.... it was too much for us. Needless to say, we were reprimanded.
          Flash forward. I am an adult now. I had no idea I have a problem. I don't think it even crossed my mind that I would giggle. Really, being a child giggling uncontrollably in church due to lack of understanding is completely acceptable. Why would I ever think it would happen as an adult?
           I will skip all the little ones that are not as entertaining. The brief episodes of stifled giggles, as an adult that should have clued me in to the fact that I might have a problem. You might think it is because I am not religious. Maybe that I am purposely being disrespectful. This is actually not the case. I am not traditionally religious, but I do have very strong beliefs. I also am very envious of those who have a religion that they can fully believe in. I wish I could find one. I have not yet. I am however truly happy for those who have.
           Back to the story. The next big blooper was in Edinburgh, Scotland. I enjoy live choir music on the holidays. I rarely go and see it, as you might imagine. A friend of mine suggested a few of us go on Christmas Eve to listen to some. There was a really old church that had Christmas choirs several times a day the entire week before Christmas. Apparently it sounded amazing in this church. So we went. I warned my friends of my... condition. They ignored me. Fools. (I love you all)
           I was able to not laugh at the fruit hats. I thought that bode well! Although I did wonder if the people I saw when I was a kid were still wearing theirs. It was truly beautiful. Then the organ. Amazing sound. The choir was up in the front (we couldn't see them because we were all the way in the back). They started some low level music with just their voices. Harmony if you will. Beautiful. Then, a man (I have no idea what station in the church he was or wasn't) all in white stepped to the back of the aisle, even with us. He was giant. Truly GIANT. And skinny. All this was accentuated by his long bright white robe, and long skinny face. Then without looking at anyone but the choir ahead....a loud, deep voice let out a very long note. It carried from the back of the church to the front and back again. And it was almost hollow, yet somehow robust. And I don't know, but for some reason it struck me funny! Of course.
          Was it the bright white mixed with the dark interior of the church? The tininess of the man mixed with his grandiose stance and huge voice? Maybe it was the deepness of the voice that shocked you yet soothed you at the same time. I don't know. But it was enough to make me giggle. I was trying to be good though. So, I silently bowed my head to hide my cheeky smile and tried to contain my laughing fit to simple shoulder shaking. Even that, I was able to somewhat control. There was no constant shoulder shaking. Then I managed to quell the amusement, and regain control of myself. I was quite impressed with myself. For a while.
          Then came the group singing. I don't truly know what was wrong with me, but I didn't expect this. Apparently I had a stupid attack. So we're singing along quietly. The ladies with the hats too. I'm doing fine. Shocking right. Until my friend starts switching keys. Whenever he couldn't hit a note, he'd switch to a lower register so he wouldn't go off key, and visa versa. This... struck me as funny. It might strike you as funny too if you knew him. So then the shoulder shaking and tittering began. Sporadically controlled. Then the tall man's voice came again. Harder to control.
           This is about the time I noticed I had infected one of my friends with my amusement. Poor girl. She had noticed. She is a sweet girl and quick to smile and laugh. Unfortunately for her, she noticed my barely contained chuckling. And now another friend shot us both a look. Of course this made it funnier. Very mature.
           Low and behold, now another of us was laughing. So the singer and the shooter of the looks were not amused, but the rest of us were losing our ability to be in control of ourselves. Now in all fairness, everyone else was able to get themselves in control better than me. I know, you're surprised right?! Oh, no, you're not? Well, no worries. Heh, heh.
           Unfortunately for them, I kept starting right back up again. I wasn't trying, in fact quite the opposite. That just made it worse. Needless to say, by the end my stomach hurt from trying to contain myself, I had tear marks, and sparkling giant eyes of amusement mixed with fear! When we got outside, all my friends swore they would never go to church with me ever again. I wouldn't either if I were them.
           Now, I only go for weddings and funerals. The last two weddings I was at were with my immediate family. The difference is vast. My sister and parents and I all have this problem. Usually, it has more to do with things we ourselves are doing than what is going on around us. Still, it is completely inappropriate. And though I may be embarrassing myself, at least I am doing it with people who are embarrassing themselves of their own accord.


So I apologize for making my friends laugh in church. (But it was weirdly funny) And to all the church goers I truly mean no disrespect. I am not perfect and that's all there is to it.

kimbersfrog

Heh,heh. You can't be pretty all the time...

          I'll start by saying, my mother HATES it when she has to take photos of me. Or maybe I should say the results of those photos. And in all fairness, she can't get a good photo. I always have some weird, funny, and usually ugly or at least scary expression on my face. I am uncomfortable with photo taking. But even when I am caught unaware, somehow I manage to put Jim Carey to shame! I will show you a couple examples:

 As you can tell these are pretty bad. They are not the absolute worst but I can not find those at the moment. I think these will suffice.


          Now during these moments, I have no idea how ridiculous, scary, ugly and/or funny I look. This is probably good. My face is expressive, what can I say! I think my parents put it best when they said they didn't actually have to watch the movie if I was in the room. They could just watch my face and they would know what was happening.
          I am lucky in some ways. I don't tend to spend much time worrying about how I appear to others, especially when it comes to being pretty or not. In fact I think that can be a hindrance to people really knowing who you are. That aside, I have finally found a man who loves and likes me for my odd, normal, crazy, strange, opinionated, etc. personality. Not what I look like. This is a whole new thing for me. Even better, I love him back! The lucky part, is he thinks (as deluded as he may be- remember I am only a year away from 40), that I am beautiful! I let him believe!
           It's amazing really. Men can say, 'You're pretty.' or 'You're beautiful.' It might feel nice briefly, but if it doesn't feel like they mean it, or it feels like it might be for their benefit (how polite was that?!), it falls a bit flat. Sometimes it just feels like they are saying out of habit or obligation, I'm not sure if that's worse or better, but my heart sure didn't sing zippity-doo-dah! Now I have someone who really truly believes it, and I can feel it. That is a whole new world. I didn't know it existed. I didn't know I wanted it. Apparently I do. Weird right. This does apply to the point, don't worry. I haven't lost the plot yet!
          My boyfriend is also a brilliant photographer. He has taken photos all over the world. Portraits, exotic wildlife, and places that are so beautiful the photo can actually make you skip a breath. Recently he has decided to take a few photos of me. Apparently he is one of the very few who is capable of taking good photos of me. My mother is very happy, as I have sent a couple to her! But DO NOT FEAR, my adroit skills for ruining photos have remained fully in tact. Yes, I can even foil the talented, creative, steady hand of a real photographer. Here are a couple of those:

          We took pictures a couple days ago at the beach (not just of me- that would have been BOR-ING!).  When we got home, I started doing the dishes (so my man can make yet another magical creation for dinner). All of the sudden I hear raucous laughter from the other room. The T.V. was not on, no music, I could not hear anyone outside... I wasn't sure what was up. I looked over. There he was on the computer. Immediately I knew. The photos were now on the computer. Something was hysterically funny. My guess... me.
          Now, I can't imagine what it is. We've laughed at other funny pics of me before. But this was particularly strong laughter. Then he calls to me, "Baby, come here, you have to see this!" Oh boy. It must be good, scary, ugly AND funny! Just a guess.
          It was. All of those things. What's even scarier is it was not a face that I purposely made. It was one of those 'in-between expressions' faces. So I might do it all the time. There were other funny ones, but they were mock faces. On purpose. My next thought: Facebook. He seems to like to put his least flattering photos of me on facebook. I don't mind, but I just wonder why. So I asked, "Is this going on facebook?" The look said it before he did. Yes. Great. At the same time, I'm kind of happy about it. It is funny!
          Then I asked him why he very rarely put good photos up of me. His response was genuinely interesting. He said anyone could see a beautiful or pretty photo of me. But that part of what made me special (especially to him), was that I made funny faces, weird faces, scary faces, and yes... ugly faces. He said there are many other beautiful women who are beautiful all day. What they are missing is the humour and dorkiness of expressions in their faces (I'm paraphrasing here- but you get the idea). So, I of course made a face- old habits die hard!
          Later, we were relaxing, watching a movie. (Okay this is not fully relaxing for me, as it is a bit like studying, but it is still nice) At about one or so in the morning I started to get sleepy. I yawned. You know the type of yawn that you can feel is going to relieve you before it really starts?! That kind of yawn. So of course I let loose with complete abandon. My boyfriend, happened to look over. He broke into laughter. The same laughter of earlier in the night. He said, "That was a really ugly face (still laughing and me too at this point), but I love you anyway!!! (more laughter from us both) How does such a beautiful girl do that with her face?" Then I said, "You can't be pretty all the time!" He agreed and we laughed again!
          So now I leave you with a photo that as of yet, has gone unsurpassed in it's unequalled achievement of ugly. A photo to make you laugh and cry! I find it to be disturbing and refreshing really. This is in-between expressions:

Damn, that's HOT!

kimbersfrog

He went to pee in his pants. He came back in undies and a smelly shirt

          Okay, first you have to understand a little bit about how we were set up. Not a lot don't worry. The hostel that I made as my home away from home in Edinburgh for a while was huge. They had a giant main side that all the transients stayed in. But if you ended up staying for an extended amount of time you would be moved to a smaller area. We called it the 'long termer' area. (or something close to that) As a result, we all knew each other fairly well, or at least knew who the other was. In fact a lot of us even worked in the hostel for at least a little while (and oh how I loved cleaning toilets). The only time someone stayed on that side that was only staying for a weekend, a night, or a week was if there was a big footie weekend and they needed extra beds.
          The second thing you must know about is a guy. There was a long termer, who shall remain nameless, who had a particular odor. All the time. You might even call it a stench. If you smelled this singular funk before you turned a corner, you could be fairly sure that he was only a few yards away. He was a very nice guy don't get me wrong. A little odd,  maybe a lot, but nice.
          One day, I was hanging out in one of the big spaces outside my old room with some friends. This happens to be outside two bathrooms as well. I kept thinking.... I smell ______. Finally I just interrupted conversation, and asked, "does anyone else smell _______?" Yes, but they all thought it was too strange to be true. He was nowhere to be seen or heard, and his room was on a different floor. In the end, we found a pair of his shoes and one of his shirts under the sink in the bathroom. In a closed cabinet. These things happen I guess (NO they DON'T). There were many stories of roommates telling there roomies to put their shoes on the window ledge, etc. to avoid the room (and ostensibly themselves) being polluted with suffocating stink. Fair enough. Maybe this is what had happened to ______.
          Well, then came a footie weekend. This was months later. I was in another room down the hall. I was even near two different bathrooms. (the amount of bathrooms in that place was awesome- except when it was my job to clean them all!) One of these bathrooms had become a sort of closet for my roommates and I. The showers didn't work, nobody used it, so there it is. My roomies and I got along well. In fact that night a few of us were up late chatting and I think we might have been playing cards. I'm not really sure about the cards though. That could be a factoid. Just sayin'.
          At some point in the middle of the night (why were were still sitting at our uncomfortable table in uncomfortable chairs I have no idea), the two guys who had been put in our room for the footie weekend stumbled in. They were both on top bunks. We watched this process with a mix of amusement, a dash of anxiety and perhaps a bit of admiration. Oh, come on, that's what world's funniest videos is all about right? I do believe I was the most stupefied (and really glad I was on the bottom bunk!)
          Then of course, we went right back to talking, laughing, whatever. There were also no worries of keeping these guys awake. They were out for the count. Oh did I forget to mention one of them stripped down to his underwear before getting into bed- how he managed without falling over, I will never know.  And then it happened.
          One of the guys said something. That got our attention. It was unintelligible if I remember correctly. Shortly thereafter, he sort of half threw himself and half climbed off the bed. It was yet another impressive feat. He proceeded to put on his pants and head out the door. We watched silently. And like children, as soon as the door shut the laughter started.
          After what seemed like forever, he came back in. Really, we were about to start taking bets on whether or not he would find himself in another room in the morning. As soon as the door opened however a truly bizarre thing happened. Something even I could not have previously imagined. I smelled _______ but saw a completely different person with the smell. Somehow, this guy had come back from taking a pee (that's the best guess anyway) and now smelled just like ________. Impossible. WE all sat stunned. Until, one of us nudged the other and we all saw his outfit as he was attempting to mount his bunk again. He was no longer in his pants. Only undies. And he now had a shirt on. He had no shirt when he left.
          Guess who's shirt it was. Yes. ________'s. It was very distinct not just by smell but by the band and specific wear and tear. So now our room had that funk we could not call our own. My roomie took photos. We were beside ourselves. We actually waited up to see what his reaction would be.
           He was horribly confused in the morning. The first thing he noticed was his pants and wallet were missing. I don't know if he noticed us trying to hide our laughter. It was a slow process for him to realize he had someone else's shirt on. One of us suggested he look in the shower with all the clothes. Yes. Apparently he had gone to pee in the shower stall that didn't work, and changed his clothes after. 
          He needless to say, was not as amused as us. I do believe his friend was slightly amused. He might have been more amused if he hadn't been so hungover. I was a bit worried he might vomit onto my bottom bunk.
          That is all there is to tell. I hope you enjoyed.

kimbersfrog

Finally I braved the Beach!!!!!

          I am a person who does not tan. I begin with the glow of the moon (that description might be considered... 'poetic license' ). In fact, I start off so white I have fears that I could blind people when the reflection of the sun hits me. When people here started telling me I should be wearing a bikini (because it seems to be a cultural prerequisite) I kept wishing I could communicate to them how much of a hazard that could be. Just walking on the sidewalk, a car could veer off the road from the glare of my stomach! I think my dad put it best when he said, "He isn't allowed to go shirtless within 20 miles of an airport." I'm sure this is just a safety precaution!
         I do change colour as everyone does however. I turn varying shades of pink. Then I turn red. Red hurts. And is itchy. Try scratching the most extreme rug burn you've ever had. Not fun. That is why the idea of lying out in the sun baking does not really appeal to me. I don't get that beautiful brown like most people for one. In the end I end up, sweaty, bored, and finally, looking like a lobster. And pain. Right, let me run right out!
          I do love the smell, sound and feel of the water. I don't even mind the giant amounts of sand that sometimes fill your bathing suit. It's worth it. But when I'm by myself, I have two choices. I can go out get wet and get bored, fairly quickly. Or I can swim for exercise. I hate swimming for exercise. I find it tedious. Oddly I wish I liked it, for me it would be the best way to keep in shape. But all I can think is, "Back, and forth, back and forth, really, I haven't gotten back yet?, oh okay finally, forth, back..." etc.
          I have gone to the beach this summer. Only to take leisurely strolls in the evening (once the heat has gone down). Sometimes I bring a book out or study Spanish. I wouldn't call that 'real beach going' though. The other day I finally went to the beach for real. The first time this summer. I loved it! I went with my boyfriend. It really makes all the difference when you have someone to go with. We went in the middle of the day. Shockingly, I did not burn to a crisp. (Right, pick yourselves up off the floor.) I had forgotten, HOW good it really feels to swim in the ocean. And how quickly a wave can surprise you! Luckily I like the taste of salt water. Heh, heh. And I had someone to play with. I know it sounds silly, but there it is.
           On the beach, I also had someone to talk to, joke with, and listen to music with. That made a huge difference. I didn't mind the heat so much. I had someone to help me with my lotion (more importantly remind me to reapply). For the first time in a long time I had fun going to the beach- as a real beach goer!
          Any trials and tribulations, you ask? Well, I didn't burn as I mentioned. I also barely tanned. I was even laughed at when I jokingly pointed out how tan my legs had gotten, the next day. I will admit to getting a little beaten up though. In the water doesn't count. The rocky bottom, you are lucky or unlucky if your foot catches a rock wrong. (I was a little unlucky, not a lot). On our way to the beach I pulled a brilliant Kimber move, if ever there was one! As we were walking, I stepped on the edge of the sidewalk. You know, where the sidewalk meets the sand. I just sort of toppled down. Okay, I slammed down with a BAMMMM straight to my knees! Soooo cool am I! Maybe, that's why I was spared the sunburn for the day!
          That was my day. I enjoyed it immensely. I hope you are taking a day here and there to delight in something of your own choosing!

   kimbersfrog

Is it the dark edges of your mind? Or are things really going Bump in the night?

          Anywhere you go there are noises. We get used to the everyday sounds. Sometimes so much so, they help us sleep at night. They can be endearing, if it's your partner snoring (or not), or the crickets chirping. It can also be disturbing when you realize what's helping you sleep are the sounds of ambulances, fire trucks, helicopters, and gun fire. But I digress that was long ago. 
          I have lived in a lot of different places and apartments. All of these places have had their own unique sound. Some have similarities, but still each have their own individual vibrations. The same is true of the place you live. Apartment, house, camper or tent. This my friends, is about the noises in the house.
          When I was young, I had a very hard time falling asleep. Everything kept me awake. Then I grew up. "Grew up" might be an overstatement. Heh, heh. The point is, throughout my adult life I have been moving from one place to another. As a result, I am currently able to sleep through almost any sound. I am happy my body has adapted this way. It makes up for the sleep I lose staying up late writing stuff no one wants to read. Hee, hee. (I am speaking for you because I can. Post a comment if you want... I would love it!!!)
          My boyfriend warned me about the noises from the street here. He was very worried about it. For me, I like it. I also enjoy hearing the people who walk by. One night while writing (quietly) I heard two guys outside the door talking. I innocently decided to listen in. Hey trying to learn Spanish... duh! I started to tune out once I realized it was Catalan, but I couldn't help but get a kick out of the laughing and obvious drunkenness of it all. Then right in the middle of a sentence... A big loud fart! It was truly awesome. Who wouldn't love that? They kept right on talking too. I am smiling now thing of it!
          Moving on. This apartment has the normal sounds inside. The constant hum (with sporadic gurgles) of the refrigerator motor. The creaks. The after flush noises that last for ten or fifteen minutes. And of course the stove noises. The stove.
          Our stove is just two burners. Electric. Set into the counter. Once you turn it off, it starts making a sort of clicking noise as it cools off. That intermittent clicking can last anywhere between a half hour and an hour. Pretty normal. 
          What I was not ready for was what happened about a month after I got here. Or should I say started happening?! Not every night mind you. But maybe once a week. My boyfriend would get out of bed about 5 minutes after the lights went out, saying, "Did you hear that?" "NO... I was about 2 seconds away from full sleep, half in a dream... of course I didn't hear, 'that'!" I think my actual response was, "hhhunhhh? ummm, whahht?" By then my curiosity was sparked. So I would wake up because I NEEDED to know what it was.
          So I watched my brave man (and his cute butt) peek out our bedroom door to see (in the dark), what it could be. Eventually he would decide it was the refrigerator. The one time I heard it first, I went to check. I came up with another possibility. There is a minute chance that there is a rat stuck inside the motor scratching to get out. However, I do not believe this is the case. Phew!
          Then he went away for a week of work. It was my first time in the flat alone at night. Okay I will admit I was looking forward to a couple of things. I was going to get to finish off the ice cream! And I was NOT going to have my covers stolen in the middle of the night! What I didn't expect was the noise at night to be something OTHER than the fridge.
          First night. Suddenly the need to sleep hits me like a tornado hits a trailer park. So I slide into jammies, turn out the lights and put my head on the pillow.I can feel sleep slowly taking me over... and then I hear it. Crap. Every single cell in my body is now super alert. Right up front I noticed, it was NOT the fridge. 
          Okay. So it's not the fridge. It also was not the noise we heard before. I am alone however. Before I could have any funny images go through my head of what it could be (in a parallel universe), I sat up noiselessly. Then I soundlessly slid my ass to the end of the bed and sat for a second. The click, click, click was still repeating. In one more incredible, inaudible move I stepped to the door and peeked out. The noise was coming from the stove.
          This clicking was almost like an irregular pulse. And it was not the same click as the cool down click. It was a sound I had heard before. A very distinct sound. One that I had made happen. With my own hands. I'm thinking all of that as I am staring at the stove, in the dark. I can see just enough to know that no one but me is in the house. Not even a mouse. Heh, heh.
          To turn on the burner, I must turn the knob. The knob has a very specific CLICK to it. ThatUsually, when weird stuff happens, as soon as you are close to it, poof, it's gone! And for about two weeks this happened randomly, day or night. No rhyme, no reason. Sometimes I hadn't even cooked that day. And my boyfriend heard it too so I am not nuts (well, at least not for that). Although I don't think he is as convinced as I am that it is that specific sound. But I know my noises. Just as I know when he's taking more than half the bed (Heh, heh), in all fairness, I may not take more than half the bed... but my ass does take a lot of the bed space!
          Now however it's been almost two months without the noise. And even though my boyfriend heard it that one night, I'm beginning to wonder, was it real? Or was it just my mind playing tricks on me? I would love to think it was a ghost, but I can't really sell myself on that one. I would really have to see a ghost to believe in it. Maybe you have an opinion. Or a similar experience...

I am going to sleep now... we'll see what awaits. My guess is nothing.

kimbersfrog       

          

It has happened......

          Finally it has happened! I am glad it has too! I know, I know, it's been obvious I have been having a hard time with the language and little things here and there. Trying to adjust in a new country isn't necessarily hard. When it's for REAL however, that is when it becomes hard. At least for me.
          There were days I could tell I was almost feeling I was at home. But then I would rush in and change from my slippers to shoes. Maybe I would start outside... then slip back inside because I had forgotten to even put a tiny bit of effort into taming my hair. That is not to say that it would work, my hair can be quite unruly!
          These things are easy for me when I feel I am at home. I feel strong enough within myself to just be, no matter what kind of stresses are hampering my life. I don't care if I leave the house with my pajamas on. Forgetting to brush my teeth, if I'm only running to the corner store. I am confident enough in myself and love myself enough that I don't care about others opinions of me. What can still hold me back is if I feel I don't belong.
          I am not implying that I fit in. I gave up the ghost on that one years ago! I will always be a foreigner here. Anyone who lives outside of their native land will always be a foreigner. I also want to point out that there is one home I have been feeling all along. My heart has been at home since I saw my boyfriend's smile waiting for me at the airport.
          It's the literal, physicality of living here, that I wasn't feeling. I'm not sure I even realized it to be honest. Today, I was taking a short trip to the shop. I was walking and thinking in Spanish about all the things I had to do after lunch today. I was halfway there before I realized that not only, was I in my slippers still. I was ALSO still without my bra. I hadn't even looked at my hair since I threw it up in a bun (without looking in the mirror), and although I had brushed my teeth I felt like I still needed to.
          I was only halfway there. So if I had turned back around right then, that would have cut three quarters of an unpresentable trip. However, I just kept walking. I didn't even make a decision. I just went on. On the way back, it hit me. I finally feel like I live here.
          Not only does my heart feel like it has a home here (as it has since the day I arrived). But I actually physically feel like I am here. And it feels good. It doesn't take away the struggles, stresses or potential problems that might come my (our) way. It is comforting all the same.

Now on to lunch!

kimbersfrog