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Name: SD
Interests: feet, fonts, friends, fuzzy creatures, festive days, funny sounds, faces from different places, for the lack of a word that starts with an f, catchy music and a good drumbeat
Expertise: nicknaming my wanderful friends
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
2/11/2003
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| funny things overheard at ultimate frisbee friends campfire tonightpeople: come on, andrew (to andrew chang) what kind of girl do you like?
trevor: like a shannon-type?
shannon: please onatde, usete my name (or whatever pig-latinish things she said. i clearly don't know pig latin.)
trevor: ok, like a cindy-type, or estella-type...
annette: what are you speaking, shannon, is that...that, piggy language?
me to daniel: daniel, man, you gotta cut your hair! several times today i saw you and thought you were a girl.
daniel: i know, i know.
dave watson: hey, he looks like michael jackson.
daniel: yeah, it's my michael jackson tribute hair.
(just now)
trevor walks behind me carrying my laptop.
trevor: careful not to trip on this cord. (as he pulls cord across the floor and puts laptop down.)
walking behind me he totally trips over the cord he just laid down.
me: LOL | | |
| now entering 30sThis decade has been an incredible decade of moves. I moved back to San Diego from college in Irvine, I moved into an apartment in La Jolla with Mary Ann and Tomoko, I moved to Dallas, I traveled back and forth from Dallas to San Diego several times, I returned to Dallas to plan my wedding, I moved back out to Dallas as a newlywed so Trevor could finish school and we could look for an assignment, we moved out of there to travel around and say our goodbyes before we took an assignment in Southern Asia, we moved all over that very populated city in that lentil-laden country before moving back to San Diego to focus on health where we moved three more times before last year we came to live in the apartment we are in now- a dog-friendly place with two bedrooms to accomodate the baby that was coming that next month.
There is now road construction every day right next to our apartment building. Evidence that the 15 is being widened to accommodate more traffic, the growing pains are accutely felt as we watch the wall being built closer to our street meaning car traffic will be closer to our living space. The construction dust leaves a thick layer over all our cars and the cones, dug up street, and big equipment take up precious street parking that all of us hate to see lost.
There is an unsettling-ness to the hard hats hanging off of half-built walls and huge cranes hanging above menacingly while we try to weave beneath them in the tight, war-torn street that leads away from our home. But it also makes me kind of excited-- I like the feeling that something new is happening and change is afoot.
I am reminded that though things look like a huge mess that will never end (all this freeway construction really does seem never-ending) and though it sometimes seems like things are just getting more wrecked for worse rather than better, there really will be a nice difference, a more favorable outcome in the end.
And so it is with my life. This decade that I just lived through was like a huge construction project, and though I had had high hopes that certain bridges and byways would have more progress by now, and have had major disappointment by the pitfalls and dead-ends in some of my roadwork, I have also been very pleasantly surprised in many other new paths that have been formed.
I'm certainly not finished but I'm not stunted either, and I think that the fear I had last year of the unknown potentially holding more scary bad stuff has sort of given way to the hope that my good God uses all things to perfect those that He loves.
One thing I do know, this milestone really doesn't seem as old as it used to.
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| big glasses speaks- installment 1yes, i am an insomniac.
but tonight, ah, tonight i am a productive insomniac. after being on a total roll in getting ready for this trip i started hunting for one very self-indulgent packing item from the past. more on that later. maybe.
anyway, i totally found what i was looking for, but i also found a lot, LOT more. there are a bunch of boxes stacked in one of our closets that are filled with things, mostly paper, from my past. i have been taking these boxes, a few at a time, from my parents' house, always with the good intentions to clear them out. of course, i haven't.
but tonight, rather than being a ridiculous burden on my being, i found it delight and embarrassing to read through some of my old notebooks with it's little scribbles. they cracked me up.
so i want to endeavor to start a long-running series unearthing these old notes, and talking them through on xanga, part self-reflection, part self-disclosure, part for posterity, and in part to work through some of those awkward years trying to make sense of them and maybe even show me that i've come... well, somewhere.
ooh, which warrants a tangent to an encounter at target today. i ran a bunch of errands today, and the first one was to buy some baby supplies. as i was paying for my items the nice, older, african-american lady behind the counter looked at my purchase and then asked me with a kind of innocent curiosity, "are you a mommy?"
to which i answered, "yes, i am," as i thought about asha. i was surprised at how unphased i felt in answering. i guess i'm finally used to it. it was pleasant.
then she said, sincerely, "girl! you look like you're twelve!"
both of us were a bit surprised at each other, i think, but i managed to smile and stammer, "well... thank you!" as i stuffed my credit card and receipt a bit nervously into my bag. then i went on to say, "i'm turning 30 this year." i emphasized the *thirty*. she gasped in honest shock, catching it with her hand over her mouth, and stumbling over her response, "you... there's no way, you don't look..." it was pretty funny. i nodded, "in april." as though saying the month would really hit it home and make it real, or something. as i started to leave she said something like, "just keep doin' like you're doin' and you'll just look fine as you get older!!"
i beamed as i walked out the door, feeling like a teenager who someone doesn't believe is old enough to drive, and yet is on her own! outside! shopping at a store by herself! look at her victoriously bringing her spoils to the car she drove by her very own self!
anyway, i think it wasn't that i felt flattered that she thought i was younger than i am, but maybe that i've been feeling like the last year or so i went from running in place to running in place but moving backwards. it's been more than a little frustrating to feel like my youth is slowly evaporating and feeling like i have nothing to show for it. and not in a showing off sort of way, but more like a--- i've actually been doing something with my life--- sort of way. rather than having dissolved into a puddle of unrealized dreams.
and that wonderful, beautiful woman tonight, she made me smile, and feel really human. she smiled at me and talked to me in the store so that i felt like i was having a fun, spontaneous conversation with another person instead of a cold exchange of money and goods, and we were able to rise above our situation to enjoy a connection. (i clearly don't need to tell you that that makes an extrovert very, very happy.)
but also, she made me feel like i had accomplished something. without explicitly saying it she seemed proud of me or impressed that i had become a mother when still so young. and that even though i see my creeping age and feel like nothing is going on in my life, that things are just dormant and that i am standing still while life is passing me by-- it's not really like that. and strangely, that's not how God sees it. and He hasn't forsaken me. even if i'm waiting for the fulfillment of some sort of strange, unknown destiny that i felt i was given a peek at when maybe a bit too young to understand it.
and i know that xanga is only as dead as we let it get, but i can't write much anything good unless those old winds of winsome words comes to tickle my ears with inspiration. right now i'm feeling that old sparkle in my eyes as though God has granted me the joy of His Presence for just this early morning moment...
and yes, i guess this is when i feel God's pleasure. it's not when i'm in school, or when i'm playing the piano, or running... ick, those are all things that i felt miserably like i was lead skating on water. no, i've felt the spark of the Divine in late-into-the-night-into-early-morning conversations with people where time just disappeared, and when i feel so inspired that i can't stop working, or when i just have words and thoughts and ideas that feel like they can't be held down or back, and they make me simply want to grab a pen or pencil and paper or computer with any writing capability and just write and write and write to get it all out.
so you can see why i've felt a bit blah for a long time and haven't written much of anything. i've had nothing to say.
and i know i'll probably fall asleep soon and wake up groggy and dispassionate, remembering tonight and how alive i felt for a moment, though i'll be completely unable to really fathom or feel it. but at least i'll have this post to remind me of the drugless high that i am sometimes privy to on this earth.
but, i digress.
you thought i forgot about my wonderful (still embarrassing) find. no, no, no. not possible as it sits right next to my wrist. so without further ado i bring you my first installment from what i'll call "The Big Glasses Vault."
now you see, before i was officially voted as the best handwriting in the world, (cindy T, i want you to know that i do completely realized my very liberal use of the bold and italic functions, it is duly noted, and yet i pretty much don't care because it is 4am and i'm excited), i was just your average nasty-handwriting kid that couldn't seem to shake the old cursive curse. i felt like i had to play by the rules for a long time, and so it's understandable that i might have some nasty-awkward-dressing-jr. high-like moments as i try to work myself into my own style.
(personally, i think hit my stride somewhere towards the end of college, and then i got a bit too experimental and now it's kinda morphed into something a bit less appealing. but that's just my opinion. and candy is rolling her eyes right now because she thinks i'm being falsely modest.)
so here, i'm posting a scan of the first thing i opened up to in one of these old notebooks. this one, i'll cleverly call it "writing tablet 100, ruled sheets" has a bunch of various samples from various years, but this one looks earlier than the others. someone good with math and deductive reasoning skills (and more coherency than i have after being awake for almost 20 hours straight) can probably pretty accurately figure out when i wrote this better than i, so i'll leave it to you to do so. i'll also transcribe it afterwards with a few comments.
Here's the transcription in bold: (my notes will be made in brackets on the side)
A Typical conversation Might be
Shan- So I can't go --> softball practice [the curvy arrow was my own shorthand for "to". how strange to be reminded as i try to transcribe this and wondering what that sentence would be.]
Sim- No!
Shan- Why not?
Sim- I'm going to play softball. [up until this line i thought i had just found a transcription of a real conversation. when i hit this line about softball i realized that this was either fiction i wrote, or at least that it was only loosely based on reality, like maybe this conversation happened, but it was actually about soccer, and my insertion of "softball" was just to make it look like i had made it up.]
Shan- So why am I going?
Sim- That's what I'd like to know [my handwriting gets really messy at the end of this line which makes me wonder what was going on, was I writing in the car? that happened sometimes.]
Sam- Oh yeah, Shannon really seems like the softball type [for whatever reason, i was pretty surprised by my sudden entrance to the conversation. doesn't it somehow seem like just simon and shannon were talking? and it's interesting that i spelled shann's name with just one "n" at this point. just a hint for the detectives.]
(Glare from Shan)
Shan- Shut up.
Sam- What's that supposed to mean
[hilarious. as awkward and stilted as this is, it actually probably is a good representation of a "typical conversation" from back then. but 'sim and shan' will have to give their opinion on this.]
OR
Mom-I heard that Sally's joining YG.
Dad- Sally? Really?
Mom- They were worried that she was too small.
Dad- Small? She's not that small.
Mom- I said that it usually takes about 6 mos. for someone to get used to being in the group. [it looks like this is from the days when my parents were helping to lead youth group at the inception of cbc youth group.]
Sam- six months!
Sim- It's so weird. Sally & Kevin both don't look anything like their mom.
Shan- Not uh! Kevin look like his dad!
yay for the surprise ending. which is strangely very much a snapshot of our family's conversations back in the day. and maybe now a little bit too. it just really made me reminisce about 'D-O-W dow' days.
well, that's it for the first installment of Big Glasses Speaks. until next time,
( )-( )
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| Honesty and transparency as the first step to simplicity?
I have felt absolutely dogged by thoughts of the environment lately. I feel really out-of-whack thinking about it because I think my mindset is just not right. Sure, we've been given the world to take care of by God and all, but ultimately everything in this world is destined to disappear for the ultimate new heaven and new earth. People are what matter most in the end, and though little things don't solve the world's problems, a bunch of people doing little things can make a sizable difference.
Anyway, each time I change a disposable diaper, buy something else I know will only go in the trash eventually (or will not be thrown away by me for a long time but isn't really worth it's space in my life), or throw away something compostable, or use crazy chemicals, or do any of the short-cutty things I know I could be doing better... I feel guilty. My blood pressure rises and I get really uncomfortable, like I am single-handedly killing off the rainforest, upping the temperature of the earth, melting glaciers, strangling sealife, dooming the third world to awful factory work and poverty... and I get the sense that on the other side of eternity I will see that while I was living my comfortable, fun, convenient life of leisure, I was living selfishly, and doing everything wrong in terms of living out the convictions I only wanted to have, but clearly didn't.
I have always wanted to live a simple life. To enjoy a closet partially empty, but stocked only with second-hand thrift-store items that still have a lot of life left. To have ample time for the important things in life, shedding wasteful uses of my time so that I could spend time with God, family, friends, as well as giving of myself to those in need, being available for those who need a listening ear, and creatively having fun that got me in touch with nature, exercise and healthy eating.
Many a time I've wanted to start fresh, to have a complete overhaul, to toss the dross in my life and start completely over, letting go of all those weights that have held me down for so long... but then I can't bear it, to THROW AWAY things that are perfectly good still, thing I might use, or might need later, or to add to the trash in the world, or even worse, to free up the space so that mentally I just end up filling that space with something equally useless but of even less value to me than what is already there.
There's someone else now. Someone else in the picture who is small and impressionable. She is already destined to grow up with a nutcase of a mother who only wishes she was more calm and collected than she could ever hope to be. Thankfully, I already get the feeling that she will be nothing like me in many ways. She's a lot more chill, observant and cheerful. With Asha I never get the sense that I would do one thing wrong and destroy her forever. If anything, the fear I have with her is that she will despise me or look at me as someone weak willed and wishy-washy, a pile of good intentions that moves forward and makes progress only very slowly and very little, constantly undermining myself unintentionally until too late.
But also, I hope that she will be someone to help me grow, to give me grace and love me despite my many failings, someone not to save me, but help give me the motivation to be a better form of me, someone I can be proud of for facing my fears and growing up just a little bit. | | |
| These are the days Even if we have another baby someday, things
will never be the same as these blissful baby days. I sure am tired, and can’t just sleep
whenever I want and for as long as I can, but I can always look forward to a
cute little round head that makes it all worthwhile.
Every day I grow to like this kid even more,
and find myself falling more used to this new role and time in my life. It’s like I turned around and found that I
liked this new life a whole lot and want to encourage other people to find a
wonderful partner and have kids too. Didn’t I often look with great suspicion at people who did that before? It seems totally different now.
Maybe it’s because she gives us a lot of
time to miss her. Since retreat was over we started putting her down for bed earlier (7-8pm) she’s been
sleeping clear through the night (until 5-8am). Last
night she even slept from 4pm until 7am. She’s a wild
sleeper.
Tonight Angel, Janine, and Jessie were over
and she was wrapped like a content burrito in the Amby wide awake around
8. She just lay there looking up at the
hanging orange elephant over her head.
Sometimes we came in and bounced her for a bit and she would look up at
us and laugh and smile, which obviously made us laugh and smile too. Then we’d leave for a while and I’d peek in
on her and she’d still be looking up at the elephant while blinking herself
slowly and beautifully to sleep. What a kid!
She sure teaches me something about
peace.
She is getting good at grasping her little
towels, furiously trying to eat them or eat her own fists, sometimes
getting frustrated when she can’t seem to coordinate those things going to her
mouth. But then when she does get a
taste, sometimes she makes a sour face because they don’t really taste as good
as expected. Funny!
She really likes it when people talk to
her. Grandma and grandpa spent a long
time talking to her the other day and she was very responsive to that, laughing
at them over and over for about an hour.
It made her utterly exhausted, though, and by the time they were leaving
she had fallen asleep in my arms, even though she was sitting up.
I find myself trying to savor every moment,
even as I am championing her as she tries to reach every milestone. Folding up her first onesies was excruciating
to me, even as I am thrilled to see her gaining weight and growing
longer—thriving. It amazes
me, even as I feel wistful about how fast the whole process is, how each day we
might not see the minute growth that is occurring right before us. But even
looking at pictures from the first few weeks we are stunned by how much she’s changed
already. I guess I never knew how short a
time babies were really babies.
And I understand now why mothers in public
places are always looking over at her with a touch of awe and whispering to
their children that they were once as small as Asha is now. I know they are
remembering this sweet time when they could hold their child in one arm, smell
their sweet baby hair, and kiss their little heads. I will remember and think back fondly to these days for as long as I live. | | |
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