Spanish update

Having coffee, laundry's in upstairs. While I wait on the laundry, I thought I'd do an update on my life in Spain.

Well, I survived my first week of classes. My schedule is set up in such a way that I am frequently on campus for twelve hours a day. But I'm taking classes that I find interesting for the most part, so instead of trying to switch it all around, I'll just utilize my time downtown to read in the library and try to avoid homework on the weekends. Classes I'm taking include Anthropology I, Philosophical Texts in English, Universal Comparative Literature, Italian, and Latin. Anthropology seems like it will be interesting. I already like Italian from taking a course in it at home. Latin is hard to follow, because everything is lecture-based here instead of reading-based. By that I mean, I don't have a text book. I just listen to the professor... and since it's in my second language, that leads to some occasional confusion. That and the professor, although quite sweet, talks so softly and in a monotone that I have trouble catching everything. My comp. lit. professor is interesting but intimidating. On the first day of class I was sick with a head cold (which I still have), so when my Latin class ended right at 5, I went to the bathroom to get some tissues. Well, lit started at 5, and by the time I got back with my tissues and entered the room, he gave me a what-for in front of the entire class about how he doesn't permit tardiness and will lock people out. Then he locked the door, didn't let anyone else in, and proceeded to refer to those trying to get in as "los estupidos." I guess I've only taught in that sense for a year, but I do get that it's annoying to have people come in late. However, I don't see the use in dressing people down like that. I feel like all it does is create fear. It doesn't help those who were on time, either. Everyone is different and can do things their own way, but I would just write it down and dock points as was appropriate. And if someone came to my step or Zumba classes late... well, that was just their own tough luck... I hoped they didn't injure themselves, could figure out what was going on, and kept my attention with the majority. I'm also kind of having trouble caring about classes. They won't count for anything when I get back. And I'm 25 in classes with people who are mostly 5-7 years younger than me, and I'm just... over school. I thought I was going to be teaching immediately when I got here, and I didn't realize quite the volume of classes I would have to attend. I mean, it's whatever. I'm here improving my Spanish and having fun doing it, and that's the goal... but pffft, it's hard to have a really studious attitude about something I know I'm not taking beyond these 16ish weeks. I'm happy to learn and soak up what I can... I've always liked learning things. But I am so far from being in the mood to jump through hoops for grades.

Also, I've been going out a fair amount. It isn't the sloppy drunk shit show of Morgantown, though, so don't think I'm over here being a raging alcoholic. I usually go out, have a drink or two, and dance a lot. It's been fun.

This afternoon I'm leaving with Erasmus for a weekend trip just outside of town. It's supposed to be a getting-to-know-you thing in which we all hang out together and sleep in bunk beds for the weekend. Well, why not? So I'm trying to get my laundry all done here and ready to go. Will post more upon my return.

Chaos in the Kitchen

This is nothing exciting. It was meant for yesterday, but then my internet went out and I couldn't post. This is about last night's dinner...

For lunch, I am eating an original concoction and hoping it doesn't give me food poisoning. It tastes good, though, and I'm pretty sure it's cooked well enough.

Sometimes I think it's fun to just throw some stuff in a pan and make something up. My roommate came in while I was cooking and said it smelled good. I told her I hoped so, because I was basically just throwing stuff in a pan. So here's what I did:

*Boiled a cup of rice in two cups of water
*Hacked up a zucchini and stir-fried that mother in sunflower oil and Kikoman's sauce
*Dumped the rice in on top of the zucchini
*Cracked 2 eggs and dumped them on top of everything else
*Fried everything for at least 7-8 minutes to make sure the eggs got well done
*Stuck a bowlful in the microwave for 2 minutes to just make extra sure the eggs were done (I tend to be more than a little phobic of undercooked food.)

Now I'm eating it, and it has a nice, mild flavor and thick texture. I like it because I'm getting a full serving of vegetables, whole grains, and protein. Also, all these ingredients are really close to the earth for those looking to avoid a lot of preservatives (I know I used some Kikoman's for flavoring, but it was moderate.) In fact, the eggs I bought here are so fresh they actually have feathers on them (which freaks me out a little bit... I always try to pick the one with the fewest feathers possible, which is ridiculous because by the end of the dozen I'm still going to have to use the ones with feathers.)

Anyway, so that was fun and creative, and now I've had a healthy lunch. Everyone go have fun in the kitchen now! :)

Slowly open.

I didn't know what I was going to get into tonight, because I'm basically in a country where I still know next to no one and nothing. I've gone out the past two nights, but tonight I decided to stay put. My roommate was generous enough to give me permission to use her colored pencils, so I bought a sketchbook today at the store. I've spent the evening loafing, listening to classical music, and drawing. (This will have a point by the end, I promise.)

First, I was thinking about autumn at home, the leaves changing colors, the way the sky always looks more deeply blue in October. I googled images of West Virginia in autumn, and I decided to draw that. I started just by working at the blue of the sky. I was ready to start working on trees and leaves when I looked down and saw a picture of a tulip on my journal. All of a sudden I didn't want to draw mountains and trees anymore. I wanted to draw a tulip. So I used the same background I was using; it made a perfect sky, and went on to draw a tulip. I started out working on one thing, changed directions, wound up doing something else, but... no time was wasted.

It's a strange notion to me that if we start working at one thing and change directions, change our minds, that the time was wasted. Perhaps it's presumptuous of someone in her 20's to say so, but I think that's part of the reason mid-life crises are such a big deal. You have a person in their 40s, 50s, and all of a sudden, what they've been doing the last 20 or 30 years isn't what they want to do anymore. We say they just never knew who they were, never figured out what they wanted. But who says growth has to stop, that at a certain age, a certain point in our lives we have to decide what we want to do and continue down that path unhesitatingly until we retire? That doesn't compute to me. I think with all the infinite possibilities of the human mind it's only natural to want to continue probing our potential. I mean, who doesn't know someone who's changed careers half way through their lives? It doesn't mean that what they did before doesn't matter anymore. Maybe they were just painting coloring in their sky before and suddenly realized they wanted to fill it with something else. Or maybe they want a whole new sky, and why not?

I suppose I lean toward this type of thinking because I've been all over the place myself. I'm studying Spanish now. I'm sitting in my apartment in Spain, waiting for classes to start on Monday. But I still believe everything leading up to this point, even and perhaps especially the stuff that seems like it had nothing to do with me coming here, mattered. We have seasons. The rest of winter is important to the growth of spring and summer.

Idk, I'm everywhere with this tonight. But even though I don't have a conclusion, I enjoyed sitting here and thinking. Maybe the fact that I did will yield a future result, maybe not. Sometimes there aren't any conclusions, and it's enough to just exist and be part of a mystery, not forcing it to unfold too quickly.

Thoughts on International Peace Day and Day of Unconditional Love Day over Lunch

I haven't done much today. In fact, I have yet to get dressed or take a shower. I wrote for about two hours this morning,and now I'm having a sandwich and some orange juice and so thought I might as well write some more.

So yesterday I saw some posts online about International Peace Day and Day of Unconditional Love, which basically seem to be about the same thing to me. It seems to be just about awareness of humans' sensitivity to and need for love and non-judgment. What strikes me most about this is that we still need "Days" for these things. It seems so obvious to me. Of course everyone longs for love and freedom from judgment. What confuses me is when and why people refuse or fail to give these simple things. And yet, it's what we do...

(When I say "you" in the next paragraphs, I don't mean you personally or cumulatively, this is not accusatory, just the most natural way for me to write this.)

Maybe you meet someone and it's your instinct to like them, (because I think that's the most instinctual thing... to naturally like the people you meet) but then your social circle disapproves and you shun the person, even though you really connected, even though you enjoyed their company initially. Now you're without a person who you enjoyed yourself with, but you still have your entire old circle. How does that circle of friends make you feel? Are they really your friends, or just people who you hang out with? I don't think it's enough to just run around with people; people need something that ties them together. Do you miss the conversations you had with the friend you turned away from? How do you think your friend feels? I feel like this is a pretty common situation, that folks turn their back on someone for fear-based reasons, afraid to lose the comfort of old approval. And I just wonder how much more peace and how much more love we could all let in and create if we just let the need for approval go, or if we gave and received approval without the prerequisite of conformity. It just strikes me as sad that we are all so desperate for love (and don't let yourself say you aren't, because even if you have real love in your life already, you're still desperate... because if that love left... you'd be miserable... we just weren't set up to be this high-functioning need-no-one individuals that society seems to tell us we should be) and yet so full of the love that everyone around us needs so desperately. Why do we hoard our love? Let it go...

The illustration at the top of this post is a representation of the heart chakra, and whether you believe in wheels of energy along the spine or not, it still has emblematic significance. The heart chakra is the center from which compassion radiates, and whether you connect with that via a belief in a wheel of energy, or connection to a higher being, or just the general notion of the golden rule, it really doesn't matter. The important thing is that we are full of love, and we can choose to let it go. But when our love goes out to others... it doesn't just transform them (and sometimes it isn't well received at all and does the intended recipient no good whatsoever) but us also. When you give love, you grow your own, but I think the fear is that if you give love, you'll be depleted. People will use you up.

I'll be real for a moment and admit that it isn't so easy. There have been times when I've given love only to get burned. And probably there have been times when someone's given me love and I burned them. I've had fear-based reactions that have caused me to keep people at arm's length. It's something we have to work at daily, keep peeling back those layers of fear and mistrust. And we have to check ourselves, too, make sure we aren't giving anyone a reason to fear or mistrust us. It would be an error to think that we could all just wake up tomorrow and decide to live in peace. We have so much to both relearn and unlearn first. It's like we're all suffering a cumulative stroke that has rendered a very essential part of our being damaged. Healing isn't sudden. It isn't miraculous. It takes work, patience through the set backs and frustrations. But I hope that, since I'm a day late on this, that everyone did take a moment to think about peace and love yesterday, to give a little extra, let a little extra in.

Think about this: What is it, really, that holds you separate from the rest of the world? SKIN. Skin and only skin. About 2 tiny mm of flesh hold your blood and bones and organs back from the rest of the world. But are you your blood and bones and organs? Or are you something more? And if you believe you're something more... can that something more really be contained by 2mm of skin? We aren't as separate as we imagine. We're in an open system here. Whether we like it or not, we're in an open system physically and spiritually. Physically, we take in food, water, air, and put out waste, carbon dioxide, physical warmth. Spiritually, we take in attitudes and thoughts, transform them a bit inside, and put something else back out into the world. I'm focusing on the spiritual here. We may not have a lot of control on what we take in or the inevitability of putting something else back out, but we are transformers. We control the middle process. We can take what we're given and change it according to what we want to see, to what the world needs.

Remember... a candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.

Una mezcla

21 September 2011

So, I'm slowly getting things figured out over here. It's confusing, but I felt a lot more myself last night after finding my way into the student weight lifting gym and working out there. I am not going into a lot of details about it for various reasons, but suffice it to say that it wasn't what I expected and I am some kind of veritable anomaly. The caretaker basically tried to tell me 'girls don't go here,' and a group of guys actually counted my push-ups out loud. Yes, I can do decline push-ups and still have long, blood-red fingernails. Anyway, it's a place to work out. I think I will make friends there eventually, because it seems very small and like only the same regulars frequent the place. Also, they play songs I know. That's good, because I normally like to dance between sets. Lol... as if I need another way to make myself look like a psycho... I remember this summer going to the Rec with some girlfriends, being in the "meat-head's" weight room and always toting around my little brightly-colored Coach bag at the same time. Whatever. I'm half mental. So what? Shit, I'd have to be to tear off to Spain without someone to meet me in the airport, not knowing what dorm I was even supposed to go to, and having no real clue about the bus system. Whatever. I'm here.

Getting my schedule ironed out here has been confusing. For those of you who are familiar with the United States universities' scheduling systems... this is way different. Putting together a functioning schedule takes hours, because... the same class can be at different times on different days. For example, the class I went to this morning at noon is also held on Mondays from 11-1 and Thursdays 11-12. So... try to find five classes that don't conflict with each other on a schedule like that. >:(

That said, I really like my apartment here. It's pretty nice for university living. It's me and another girl, Juana, who has turned out to be a superb roommate, living in a space with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. So we have plenty of space, which is nice.

Yesterday was my birthday. I'm 25 now. Something about that number has a weird weight to it that I can't decide if I like or not. I think here it's OK to be irresponsible and party-crazy longer, so I guess I don't have to feel like too much of a moron if I go out for a night... lol, if I can even hang. I'm a bit of a cantankerous old woman in spirit. When I wake up in the morning, I promptly waddle stiff-backed to the percolator (coffee pot at home), take a hot shower to iron out the kinks in my back, groan through breakfast, and go to bed by midnight. These 4-7 am party marathons have me a little intimidated. I haven't done that since I was about 18 or 19 and running around with some crazy half-Catholic breed known as "Camp Tygart counselors." It was kind of a bummer to be here on my bday, just because I don't have any of my friends or family around. But my roommate and two of her friends were so sweet to me. They got me a dessert shots cake, put candles on it, and sang happy birthday to me. That made me a little emotional, as I tend to be sometimes.

Anyway, I have scheduling things to tend to and a run to go on. Sorry for not being too good about posting lately. I've been a little overwhelmed.

First Run in Valladolid

This evening I went for my first run around Valladolid. I ran about 45 minutes and did a 3 minute walking cool down back to the apartment, so I would say I got a fair amount of cardio. I located the weight training area, but I'm a little nervous that according to the sign it's only open for forty-five minutes and just one day a week. However, a guy I ran into in the kickboxing club facility (I just jogged right in) told me that they are open more frequently than that. I hope so, because if I have class or something else at the time the facility is open, I'll never get to lift. That, and since I normally work out for about an hour and a half on weights, three times a week... that means I'm down to 1/6 of my usual volume. I'm have a fitness-freak freak out. Nonetheless, I am working on plans for me not to lose strength and muscle while I'm here. On the plane rides to get here, I picked up a copy of the most recent Shape magazine, and there are some good, quick strength and cardio circuits in there that I can do right here in the apartment. Tonight after my run, I came back and repeated the following circuit twice through:

50 alternating back lunges
20 push ups (I've really lost volume in this area since I've given up my goal of doing 100 in a row.)
50 crunches with my legs up a chair

Fairly balanced, I got some upper and lower body, core. The most mentally challenging part of figuring out exercises to do here without much equipment is upper back. I can do a million push ups if I want, but that's not going to get upper back. I need to be pulling something, and while I can push off the floor, there's really no good way to pull on it. That's OK. I think I have an idea that will be reminiscent of days playing farmgirl on my dad's Wheel Horse. Check back tomorrow for my "weighted backpack" routine. ;)

Good health and happiness to all!

Made it

I haven't posted for awhile because my interwebs got disconnected a few days before I left for Spain. Speaking of Spain, I'm here now. Getting here was stressful, I'm not going to lie. The short layovers and just the sheer size and layout of the Madrid airport really threw me for a loop. I'm missing John and Jupiter but trying to remind myself I'm lucky to have love at home instead of just dwelling on the fact that I'm far away now. In a few days, I believe it will be fine. I will have a roommate tomorrow; tonight I'm alone. My first real act in the apartment was to take a bath. Epic fail. The water pressure is super high, and since the shower runs through one of those nursing home style hoses, it got loose, fell to the ground, and shot water up my nose. That's why I gave up and just filled the tub. But the spigot for the tub shot out orange water, even after I let it run for several minutes, so I just held onto the hose thing and filled up that way. I'm really tired and don't feel like recounting every detail of a stressful trip. The point is, it was rough, I did it, I'm here. I hiked to the market and bought an ethernet cord, and now I have interwebs. It's amazing how much you can suddenly miss things like a phone and internet. After multiple failed attempts at calling home, all I wanted was internet and skype. Who knew it would be so difficult to get it? Anyway, I should go to bed. After being awake for somewhere between 36 and 48 hours, I'm too exhausted to clean just now. Want to have things straightened up when my roommate gets here tomorrow. Sigh, I just feel so much better having John closeby with Skype and Facebook. We all get a little sucked into technology sometimes, but it's making my life easier right now.

Like Maple Trees

Ten years ago today I was in eighth grade. I was sitting in algebra class. The seniors in the back row were probably preparing spit wads to launch at me through cafeteria straws. I was working out the values of multi-variable equations, and as usual Mr. Vanscoy was watching the news. I wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around me. We were free to work or not work in that class; our ex-military instructor was nearing retirement and was burned out on trying. I usually worked. Absorption in a textbook was a less hostile environment for a nerdy eighth grader than trying to communicate with upperclassmen. So I was absorbed in my work, probably plotting the slope of a line or something... anyway, I remember looking up at the tv and seeing some tall things smoking. Since we lived on the Ohio River, I figured it was footage of some smoke stacks at the local plants to demonstrate the economic power of America. I was disinterested and continued plotting graphs. Later that day at lunch, a few kids were going home early per their parents' demands. I was confused but still not incredibly interested. I stayed the whole day, ending with band practice. My band teacher, who was younger then than I am now, caught me in the hall after school and burst into a fit of hot tears. Her face turned lobster-pink, and she was going on and on about people she knew in New York and something about high blood pressure. By the end of the day I finally had it figured out what had happened. Like many Americans, I suppose, for a good while after the attacks, every time a plane went over head, I shuddered. I was afraid. I was not unaffected, and yet...

there's a lot of hype going on today, and I'm not sure what to make of it. I don't know how to put together all the disparate pieces of information I'm receiving. "God bless America, prayers for my country..." "Well... I was proud to be an American before we turned a disaster into propaganda and launched a fear-based crusade against the middle eastern countries..." I don't know what to believe, and it's such a hot potato topic. People get angry at each other for believing one way or the other, either that America was the victim but rose up strong in its own defense and the defense of others or that it's a conspiracy and that the proliferation of 9-11 footage is little more than propaganda. I never believe anything I hear on the news just because it's on the news, but I don't immediately discredit it either. I feel there is no way to know the truth, no way to fashion an appropriate posture toward the events and how they should be remembered. But I think that for all of us the best answer is just simple kindness. Sow seeds of love- prepare a meal for someone, call your grandma, hold a door for somebody, smile at someone who looks sad. That's our best security in this world, human kindness, not armed defenses, but it's not easy to come by. Human kindness has to be planted, and tended to, until it gradually starts growing up all around. People have to be able to trust that their acts of kindness aren't going to ultimately be taken for acts of foolishness. And it's hard to take that first step, be the one to start a chain reaction that might fizzle out, might not mean much, hard to be a person who gives out good and has no idea what they'll receive in return, whether goodness in kind or a kick in the back.

The thing is, what matters most, is planting the seeds. Think of a maple tree, all the seeds it produces year after year to hopefully, possibly, yield just one or two more trees reaching up towards the heavens. The reality is, the majority of those seeds do fall and perish. But sometimes, when the winds and soil are just right, a tree starts to grow, and from the Earth it reaches skyward... a little reminder to each of us of the rewards of persistence.

Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.
-Buddha

The Poor, Starving Student's Workout

So I titled this the poor, starving student's workout, but really it works for anyone. It's especially useful to those without funds, access to, or simply interest in a fitness facility.

Today, my workouts were simple. First, this evening, I did a 50-minute aerobic workout on the Rail Trail and in the arboretum with John. This consisted of a couple minute walking warm-up, about 42 minutes of running (with a break to iron out a creaky knee and calm an upset stomach), finished with a 5-minute walking cool-down segment. The perks to this workout are multiple:
1. Get to be outside
2. Works well as a partner, group, or solo activity
3. Change of scenery
4. Excellent fat burn (running is like the uber-torcher of fat among many cardio workouts)
5. Great for my heart, lungs, legs, and mind.
6. Cost = $0.00 (Well, it's good to have a trusty pair of running shoes, but that's a once or twice a year purchase, and then they can double as your casual shoes.)

So basically, anyone can go outside and run. Things to keep in mind are basically just yourself. If your body is screaming at you about something, like mine was about my knee, take a minute... walk... and then go. You can go at your own pace, so start from walking and build your way up to running. No stress, no fuss, just free exercise that's good for body and mind.

Workout #2 was a 20-minute yoga session right here in my own living room. I did a variety of stuff- balance poses, arm balances, vinyasas (mostly focused on upper body strength since I gave my legs a workout already with the run), and some basic seated stretching. Of course, savasana was used as a closer.
Benefits of this workout:
1. Again... it's free.
2. Creative- I'm not in a class, so I can do whatever poses I want to or feel that my body needs.
3. Strengthening
4. Improved flexibility- strong focus on the most overlooked component of fitness
5. Better balance- also an overlooked component of fitness
6. Calm mind, a moment to be with oneself before bed.

So for zero dollars today I helped my heart, lungs, blood lipid levels, blood pressure, muscular strength, balance, flexibility, and mind. Hmmm... seems simple to me.

Bottom line is, you don't have to have a big bottom line to move your bottom... anyone can move for free. It's great to have instructors and professionals to help you if you can afford these aides, but if not... your body is pretty amazing and intuitive. Start moving it and see what it has to say.

And let your love fly like a bird on a wing

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." -Mother Teresa

I was sitting in the parking lot of Kroger this evening while John was inside purchasing sausage, eggs, and other breakfast items for tomorrow. It makes sense... and my dork brain drew a graph where "hurt" is the x-axis and "love" is the "y" axis. As love (y) approaches infinity, "hurt" levels off... love continues to increase beyond the graph, but hurt tapers off and goes no further.

So I like the quote but think... it's thrown around a lot popularly. And when it's drifted into the processing part of my brain before, it hasn't actually gotten processed. It was more like, oh well... it doesn't matter the pain because love triumphs. But I don't think that's what Mother Teresa was saying at all. She doesn't suggest any cessation of or relief from love-induced hurt. (For clarification, I'm not talking about the love-hurt when someone breaks up with you or doesn't reciprocate your romantic feelings... I'm talking about connecting with a soul and then feeling the pain that soul experiences, aching for someone else's sake.) She just says, that if your love hurts you, and you choose to continue in the way of love... your love will grow while the pain just stays the same. There is no consolation in the quote whatsoever. The hurt won't stop. It'll still be there, always, no matter what, but you'll just love more and more. So the love increases, but the pain just stays the same. Perhaps you can learn to deal with it, but you won't be free from it.

This quote has always stuck with me because I tend to be fairly empathic. I don't just sympathize with people, particularly people I really love closely... I actually feel their pain. It's like little hooks in me that I can't get out from under my skin. There have been times, many times, in my life where I've actually wished that I loved less. I want to forget about a loved one's pain for a few minutes and just enjoy my own life. But then I catch myself and think, Girl! Don't you dare think that. Don't you ever, ever wish for less love.

And I guess my whole point with this is, if you're someone who's loving until it hurts... keep on loving. It won't stop your hurting. You'll probably carry that with you always. But there's something larger than your particulate little self to consider... there's a whole universe of people needing that love, so if it flows, just let it flow. Bear with the pain. Acknowledge it. And just... carry on. Keep on loving. Dance even while it hurts. Laugh. Dedicate your dance and your laughter to those upon whom you wish more joy.

"Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean it's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean that's the reason."

Namaste, kiddos.

Plotting Soul Particles

On nights like tonight when I can't sleep, I come out here sometimes and sit on the porch. The cool night air sucks the heat from my body, leaving me calmer. And more than picking up a phone or texting a friend or even the person beside me in bed... the rhythmic insect sounds and clouds passing overhead remind me I'm not alone- I'm part of something bigger. And even though in this moment my head is so fast and I can't keep up, there's a certain sense to it. That's not to say I'm out here thinking that things all work out just fine with a little faith. I don't believe in an intrinsically beautiful plan made expressly to delight our souls. Rather... I think, because of the stars and the crickets and wet grass... I can hang on until I'm once again in a season of... of what? Not joy, not order, not rightness 'cause it's right even when it's wrong... just of knowing where my soul is without having to come place it in time and space here, deliberately, under the stars like this.



I promised I’d sit with you

under the moon, drinking wine,

figuring it out.



But sometimes it’s easier to stop

a speeding train

than to move someone’s sorrow.



I couldn’t roll the stone away from the tomb.



Tonight it’s just me and the creepy crawlies

hidden beneath blades of grass

hatching out a plan-

frantically-

before the sun rises.

The Evolution of Cat Ladies

I can't believe I just bet John 100 dollars (although he's being gracious and letting me off with buying him some shrimp tomorrow night at Red Lobster) that this was complete bullshit. Please follow the link, and read this psych PhD's post about toxoplasm, which is a parasite that can reproduce only in the small intestine of felines. I was going on and on about how much I love my cat and- gee, I wonder why that is- why does he make me so damn HAPPY??? Friends, here is your answer to why we become old cat ladies (and sitting here writing this in my robe and relishing in John's piano music... I am well on my way)!

http://psychpundit.blogspot.com/2007/07/feline-parasite-alters-human.html
(I hope he doesn't mind I'm linking him here... but this is out of control nuts.)

So potentially I have a parasite lodged in my brain triggering a series of hormonal reactions that are causing me to be ever more fond of my cat. The likelihood is low- I don't normally serve up a heaping helping of litterbox mess and pour milk on in it in the morning- I probably just love my cat to a "normal" degree. Don't freak... there aren't really any ill effects if you contract the parasite. If you're a girl you just get smarter and nicer, but you might wreck your car... but I've been out driving like Nascar just for fun lately and haven't had any problems so I think I'm OK. It's like a sweet ass xanax-ritalin combo... awesome!

What I love about this is how it reflects how intricate evolution can be. This isn't a single species making adaptations for only its own survival. This parasite helps everyone but the mouse. It helps itself get into a cat intestine (doesn't that just give you the warm and fuzzies thinking about that awesome home?). So it adapts itself to drive the mouse nuts and basically deliver itself as lunch to the cat in order to get into the cat. Check. Then it accidentally enters a human host, where it can live but not reproduce. This in turn ingratiates the cat to the human. The human cares for the cat, loves it, feeds it, puts up with its heinous shedding, and this improves the survival rate of the cat, thus ensuring further perpetuation of toxoplasm. I really love evolution. Natural selection rocks!

"Fun" Run(nin') in the Rain

This morning John and I ran in the annual Paden City Labor Day 5K Fun Run. I've run that race and done others before, but this was John's first- so that was exciting! He's been running a lot this summer, and I've just been running a little bit. For me, running will always be just another part of my overall fitness regime. I'll never be a top finisher, because I'm going to keep lifting, doing Zumba, kayaking, swimming, biking, yoga, and everything else. So I'll never run every day, but I will run sometimes. Last year at this time I was going out and doing 6 or 7 miles at a pop. Now I'm doing right around 4, which is fine since I'm getting plenty of exercise from other sources. Of course, specificity is important in athletic training, and today's time of 27:20 reflected that. Last year, when I was running further, harder, and more frequently, my race time for the same course was 26:01. Still, today's time wasn't bad. I was OK with it.

It was raining during the whole race, and by the end of the first mile, my feet were soaked. There was this little boy running right around where I was, and shortly after the first mile he asked me all distressed, "How far have we gone?" I said, "About a mile and a half, so you're half way there." "So all I have to do is run back now?" "No, there's a little bit more than that, but you're doing good!" He was a trooper. I'd say he was about ten or eleven, and he really hadn't grown into his legs yet. He was wasting a lot of energy flailing them behind and in front of him, but it was too cute and he did finish. I was also fortunate enough to find someone to pace with, a body-builder looking guy. We were within about ten seconds of each other almost the whole race. I got a side stitch in the second mile and was running with my fingers dug up under my ribs, and he said to me, "Just slow your pace and take slow, deep breaths. You'll do alright." Which... I know... but didn't... because you get going in race mode and you forget everything except "GO FASTER!!!" So I followed his advice, geared back, and finished the race shortly after John.

I like running this particular race because it's in my hometown. People talk about high school reunions as being these huge motivators for getting in shape, but this is that for me, just coming home and showing I'm still out there pushing year after year. It keeps me accountable to myself in some way. Also, the funds raised go to the high school track team. I went to Paden City High School through my freshman year (at which point I decided to transfer), and I know how important funding is for the kids' activities. This isn't a rich area. For a lot of these kids, if the school wasn't providing these opportunities they just wouldn't have them. Add to that the fact that the school doesn't get a lot of government funding due to the student body population (I think there are only about 150 kids left 7-12), and it's just a struggle to keep it going. I feel like a lot of kids think there is just no way out of this town, and I enjoy the opportunity to say in my own small way, yes you can. And it's not that this is a bad place to live; there are just no jobs or opportunities. So I say, run kiddos, run, to the next horizon!

(After the race I came home and ate a Bavarian creme-filled chocolate donut. I can't be good all the time, and I enjoyed every bite. Then I took a nap.)

Geologist for a Day, Visiting John's Sites

This morning I woke up stiff and miserable in a Quality Inn on the WV-VA border. Tried showering the muscle tension out only to bash my head off the handicap pull bar in the shower. This left a nice stripe of blue bruising across my forehead, lol, but all was not lost.

It was a beautiful day, as illustrated by this beautiful, all natural waterfall. The water was so blue. For whatever reason, the plates this time caught a lot more precipitate than usual, so we wound up having to rig something up in the tackle box to protect the samples. It was fun to be useful and also to just see where he's been working on his reasearch for the past two and a half years.

We visited all his sample sites. He spent a lot of time wading through streams to pull up his plates and snipping copper wire. I spent a lot of time taking photos so he would have them for his thesis presentation, and also just because there was a lot of beautiful stuff to see. If image uploading wasn't such a slow, painful process, I'd show more here. I don't entirely understand his research, something about carbon secuestration and making sure we all don't get asfixiated... but it was neat to be part of it for the day. Hey, I got to see a gorgeous waterfall, pet a black snake, try on hip waders for the first time, and finally go see what John's up to when he "goes down south."

This will be eclectic.

So I've decided to start up another blog. Zumbieyogini1, 2, and 3 are also me but I forget the password. I'm basically over blogging about the everyday goings on of my life unless I feel some point to it, but so then what to blog about? Thing is, folks. I love... everything, except when I... hate everything. But usually I like a lot of stuff.

I'm a Spanish graduate student. Theoretically, I'm leaving the country in twelve days to spend nine months in Spain. But that's pending a visa. I've got my fingers, eyeballs, toes, and tongue crossed. 'Cause if that doesn't come, well, I've just quit my latest three jobs- Spanish teaching assistant, barista/music seller at Barnes and Noble, and Zumba/fitness instructor all over the Morgantown area to hang out in a trailer park for a year, halfway through my master's degree. But sometimes you've just got to take a chance and throw it all to the wind. I'm hoping the universe will be good to me again.

So... I may write about any number of things in these posts. I may write about piano, which I love to play, although poorly. (And no, I'm not being modest. I really don't play well naturally. I can practice a piece and get it going, but I can't sit down and just whip something out.) I might write about playing drums, because I used to be on drumline and still play djembe and bongos with the Morgantown Drum Circle. I may post some poetry, because I've been doing that since... a long time. Most of what I write these days is too personal to share, which is saying something because everything I've ever written is personal. I'm into fitness. I might write about lifting. I will say things like "super sets" and "circuits" and "pre-exhaustion." I might have something to say about Zumba... someday when I get that going again. I'm pretty into reading books in Spanish and English, and sometimes I can write an hour's worth of crap on a book I've read. I also reserve the right to burst into Spanish as I feel moved. Basically, I may write about anything on here.

For today... Joe occupied the futon last night. We got up this am and headed down to High Street where we found Tammy sitting all cute and lonely in her little white hat. We played some drums outside in the sweltering heat. I love drumming. Of all the things from high school (sorry to those I did theater with...), the thing I miss the most is drum line and djembe ensemble. I felt such a part of some great, moving animal that was outside and in us all cumulatively. And I get to taste that again at drum circle. Plus, it's just cool to go off the beaten path... to create the music instead of interpret it. What I mean is, in a band a lot of times you aren't really creating. You're reading something that's been already written, interpreting, and then recreating. With drum circle it's all very spontaneous, and the rhythm may be tired or it may be ragingly fast, but it can change. And you have to be so tuned into each other's rhythms due to that, ready to change on a whim. But you can choose to change or stay the same, or you can be the one to initiate the change. We had four of us today. I stayed pretty exclusively on my djembe. Joe stuck mostly with bongos. Tammy changed from djembe to dumbek (sp?... it's an Egyptian drum) to shakers, and a girl I just met and whose name I can't remember because I'm a spaz played djembe as well.

Came home and decided to have some iced coffee because I'm exhausted. While drinking that I played piano. I'm working on about nine songs right now, nothing new, but just stuff I want to have mastered when I leave in twelve days. I just want to record it and have it there so I don't forget when I get back that that's part of who and what I am. Because... I do forget. As much as I get out of playing the piano, I get busy during the academic year with reading, and writing, and grading, and lesson planning that I just... forget about it. And in those days I think... I'm an academic. But that's only half the story, and we've got to remember our stories. Plus, I'd like to post a few videos for my friend with whom I've always played piano. She's been gone from life for awhile, and mostly I miss playing piano together. Heart and Soul, this Hurry Scurry bit where we just race to see who can finish fastest, and so I'll stick the videos up online and she can have them. I'm working on "Only Time," "Everything I Do," "Colors of the Wind," "Poems, Prayers and Promises," "Leaving on a Jet Plane," and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." The "Colors of the Wind" song is beautiful. I struggle with the difficulty, but the sounds are so rich and the movement is tangible. Certain chords make my heart hurt. Unfortunately, I am missing the last page of the song, and can't find the arrangement anywhere. I've checked a lot of online sources, and I know I seem really high maintenance and particular about this... but I have to have this arrangement. I feel too strongly about the way it sounds to go with another version. So I'll have to see if Liz (Mom's friend who originally lent me the book with the song in it several years ago) still has the book this weekend when I go in for Labor Day. The other one I really love is "Poems, Prayers, and Promises." God, that song makes me lonely for the people I used to read and write poetry with, for everyone I have ever had a soulful conversation with. I feel that these days it's all nuts and bolts and talking about anything invisible is just a little too fruity. I want someone to read me a poem, their poem, tell me their prayers or what would be their prayers if they were a praying person. Wish I coulda been alive for a John Denver concert. Love his music. I'm also playing "Leaving on a Jet Plane," and I reminisce every time to that one back to the summer I was thirteen and at camp, and we were riding on big wagons covered with hay bails behind a big tractor. I was trying to memorize the shadows on the mountain and being a generally weepy, weird little thing. Because who knows when any of us will be back again. And it was so beautiful at that particular time, so happy, carefree and safe with all those loving souls around me.

So it's been a music and friendship-filled morning and early afternoon. This coffee hasn't helped too much yet, but I'm off to the gym now to lift. I am trying to put on as much muscle as possible before I leave so that I have time to find a fitness center in Spain before I start to atrophy. And then, of course, I'll bitch about clothing companies not cutting the arm and legholes big enough, but that's my prerogative.

Tonight John and I will be Virginia bound. For the first time, I am actually going to get to see his field site where he's been doing research for the past two years. I'm rather excited.