As the war in Afghanistan enters its ninth year and the Obama administration mulls making big changes to how it is waged, the allies are watching with deep concern and trepidation.

Source:
http://news.aol.com/article/nato-allies-await-obama-deliberations-on/707940

The reason I am feeling very old is because I went to register (or matriculate if you’re posh) at my new university today.  It was an extremely daunting experience that left me feeling jumpy and nervous, despite the fact that I am actually looking forward to doing the course!  For one thing, I wasn’t there on any particular “postgraduate matriculation day”, everyone just registers together.  That meant I soon realised how uber-young and ultra-trendy the younger students were, some seemed as though they were about 15!

The process itself was daunting, involving a queue of about 600 people, a registry check, a finance check, a second finance check (had the first finance woman been out the previous evening, perhaps?), then a final registry check before you could finally queue to have your photograph taken and your ID card issued.  For what it’s worth, I ended up with a really good photo, which is unusual for me.

After the hour-and-a-half-long process, I held a small plastic card in my hands, which had a colour picture of me and one of the university buildings in the background, and the text read: “Jennifer Anne Fairgrieve, Full Time Postgraduate Student”.  And then something inexplicable hit me and I felt as though I was in shock.  Up until now the whole idea of going back to uni has been great to think about, and I’ve been merrily doing the coursework without really thinking about the fact that the start of the course is now so near.  I’m not worried about managing to read the last book and finish off the autobiography before then, after all I’ve already read three books so I can read another, and the basic autobiography is there and just needs tweaking.  There were times when I’d have asked myself why I felt a certain way, why I was nervous and anxious, but right now I am happy to just accomodate these feelings and allow them to be there.  I am sure that when I start the course a week on Monday I will soon settle down!

In other news, Mosco our Black Russian Terrier, has a very sore leg, and after an unsuccessful week’s course of anti-inflammatories, she will have an x-ray tomorrow morning at the vet’s to see if she is showing any signs of arthritis.  She’s now on an overnight fast so she can have the anaesthetic for the x-ray tomorrow morning.  Poor Mosco, hopefully she’ll feel a bit better soon.  On the plus side, she’s lost a kilogram since last week so her diet must be working.

Tomorrow I’m back at the Transcendental Meditation course to have my meditation checked so will no doubt report on how that goes.

I also thought I’d mention the wonderful world of trip-hop, which sounds like something a young person might say, but sadly not.  Trip-hop started in the 90s (i.e. nearly twenty years ago!) with bands like Massive Attack, Morcheeba and so on, and there is a wealth of trip-hop artists out there today, both current and non-current.  Not all electronic music is trip-hop, but I would definitely say that all trip-hop is (or appears to be from my current listening experience) electronic.  Often trip-hop is characterised by gentle rap and/or haunting vocals, keyboards, drums, samples of virtually anything and a 4/4 beat.  Artists I am currently listening to and heartily recommend are:

• Tricky
• Morcheeba
• Massive Attack
• Goldfrapp
• Portishead
• Bjork (not strictly trip-hop but has some trip-hop-style songs)
• Lemon Jelly
• Hooverphonic
• Groove Armada
• Lamb

Want to listen to them to see if I’m right about it being good? Then get yourself a copy of Spotify.  It’s free to download and easy and quick to install, and what’s more, you can listen to any music you want for free.  That’s right, free.  I’ve actually gone to the bother of putting a trip-hop playlist together to give you an idea of the beauteous, chilled-out world that awaits you!

Have finally ditched my clunkety junkety Toshiba laptop, or rather, it hasn’t been ditched so much as downgraded to desktop status, which is all it was ever good for anyway.

Instead, I am typing this on a shiny new LG X120G netbook, and is it shiny! And it cost significantly less than my last computer purchase!  And all the keys are in the correct place! And it has XP, not Vista! And it can do everything I need it to! And I have a webcam!

Just been on a bit of a download mission: AVG, iTunes, Chrome, Firefox, and Skype so far. The latter is technically illegal here, but I don’t see the point of blocking the actual site when it took me all of 30 seconds to find a mirror.

What this means is now I can videochat, which is superexciting! Or is it? I am feeling more than a little trepidation about this. I don’t think I can explain quite why anything near as well as David Foster Wallace did in his videotelephony riff in Infinite Jest, which is why I’m going to quote the passage at length.  And if this makes you want to read  his hellacious materpiece of a novel in its entirety, so much the better!

“WHY — THOUGH IN THE EARLY DAYS OF INTERLACE’S
INTERNETTED TELEPUTERS THAT OPERATED OFF LARGELY
THE SAME FIBER-DIGITAL GRID AS THE PHONE COMPANIES,
THE ADVENT OF THE VIDEO-TELEPHONING (A.K.A ‘VIDEOPHONY’)
ENJOYED AN INTERVAL OF HUGE CONSUMER POPULARITy —
CALLERS THRILLED AT THE IDEA OF PHONE-INTERFACING
BOTH AURALLY AND FACIALLY (THE LITTLE FIRST-
GENERATION PHONE-VIDEO CAMERAS BEING TOO CRUDE
AND NARROW-APERTURED FOR ANYTHING MUCH MORE
THAN FACIAL CLOSE-UPS) ON FIRST-GENERATION TELEPUTERS
THAT AT THAT TIME WERE LITTLE MORE THAN HIGH-TECH
TV SETS, THOUGH OF COURSE THEY HAD THAT LITTLE
‘INTELLIGENT-AGENT’ HOMUNCULAR ICON THAT WOULD
APPEAR AT THE LOWER-RIGHT OF A BROADCAST/CABLE
PROGRAM AND TELL YOU THE TIME AND TEMPERATURE
OUTSIDE OR REMIND YOU TO TAKE YOUR BLOOD-PRESSURE
MEDICATION OR ALERT YOU TO A PARTICULARLY
COMPELLING ENTERTAINMENT-OPTION NOW COMING UP ON
CHANNEL LIKE 491 OR SOMETHING, OR OF COURSE NOW
ALERTING YOU TO AN INCOMING VIDEO-PHONE CALL AND
THEN TAP-DANCING WITH A LITTLE ICONIC STRAW BOATER
AND CANE JUST UNDER A MENU OF POSSIBLE OPTIONS FOR
RESPONSE AND CALLERS DID LOVE THEIR LITTLE
HOMUNCULAR ICONS — BUT WHY, WITHIN LIKE 16 MONTHS
OR 5 SALES QUARTERS, THE TUMESCENT DEMAND CURVER FOR
‘VIDEOPHONY’ SUDDENLY COLLAPSED LIKE A KICKED TENT,
SO THAT, BY THE YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT
UNDERGARMENT, FEWER THAN 10% OF ALL PRIVATE
TELEPHONE COMMUNICATIONS UTILIZED ANY VIDEO-IMAGE-
FIBER DATA-TRANSFERS OR COINCIDENT PRODUCTS AND
AND SERVICES, THE AVERAGE U.S. PHONE-USER DECIDING THAT
S/HE ACTUALLY PREFERRED THE RETROGRADE OLD LOW-TECH
BELL-ERA VOICE-ONLY TELEPHONIC INTERFACE AFTER
ALL, A PREFERENTIAL ABOUT-FACE THAT COST A GOOD
MANY PRECIPITANT VIDEO-TELEPHONY-RELATED
ENTREPRENEURS THEIR SHIRTS, PLUS DESTABILIZING TWO
HIGHLY RESPECTED MUTUAL FUNDS THAT HAD GROUND-
FLOORED HEAVILY IN VIDEO-PHONE TECHNOLOGY, AND
VERY NEARLY WIPING OUT THEE MARYLAND STATE
EMPLOYEES’ RETIREMENT SYSTEM’S FREEDIE-MAC FUND, A
FUND WHOSE ADMINISTRATOR’S MISTRESS’S BROTHER HAD
BEEN AN ALMOST MANICALLY PRECIPITANT VIDEO-PHONE-
TECHNOLOGY ENTREPRENEUR . . . AND BUT SO WHY THE
ABRUPT CONSUMER RETREAT BACK TO GOOD OLD VOICE-
ONLY TELEPHONING?

The answer, in a kind of trivalent nutsell, is: (1) emotional stress, (2) physi-
cal vanity, (3) a certain queer kind of self-obliterating logic in the micro-
economics of consumer high-tec.

(1) It turned out that there was something terribly stressful about visual
telephone interfaces that hadn’t been stressful at all about voice-only inter-
faces. Videophone consumers seemed suddenly to realize that they’d been
subject to an insidious but wholly marvelous delusion about conventional
voice-only telephony. They’d never noticed it before, the delusion — it’s like it
was so emotionally complex that it could be countenanced only in the
context of its loss. Good old traditional audio-only phone conversations
allowed you to presume that the person on the other end was paying com-
plete attention to you while also permittin you not to have to pay anything
even close to complete attention to her. A traditional aural-only
conversation — utilizing a hand-held phone whose earpiece contained only
6 little pinholes but whose mouthpiece (rather significantly, it later seemed
contained (6²) or 36 little pinholes — let you enter a kind of highway-
hypnotic semi-attentive fugue: while conversing, you could look around the
room, doodle, fine-groom, peel tiny bits of dead skin away from your
cuticles, compose phone-pad haiku, stir things on the stove; you could even
carry on a whole separate additional sign-language-and-exaggerated-facial-
expression type of conversation with people right there in the room with
you, all while seeming to be right there attnding closely to the voice on the
phone. And yet — and this was the retrospectively marvelous part — even
as you were dividing your attention between the phone call and all sorts of
other idle little fuguelike activities, you were somehow never haunted by the
thought that the person on the other end’s attention might be similarly
divided. During a traditional call, e.g., as you let’s say performed a close
tactile blemish-scan of your chin, you were in no way oppressed by the
thought that your phonemate was perhaps also devoting a good percentage
of her attention to a close tactile blemish-scan. It was an illusion and the
illusion was aural and aurally supported: the phone-line’s other end’s voice
was dense, tihgtly compressed, and vectored right into your  ear, enabling
you to imagine that the voice’s owner’s attention was similarly compressed
and focussed . . . even though your own attention was not,  was the thing.
This bilateral illusion of unilateral attention was almost infantilely gratify
-ing from an emotional standpoint: you got to believe you were receiving
somebody’s complete attention without having to return it. Regarded with
the objectivity of hindsight, the illusion appears arational, almos: literally
fantastic: it would be like being able both to lie and trust other people at
the same time.
Video telephony rendered the fantasy insupportable. Callers now found
they had to compose the same sort of earnest, slightly overintense listener’s
expression they had to compose for in-person exchanges. Those callers who
out of unconscious habit succumbed to fuguelike doodling or pants-crease-
adjustment now came off looking rude, absentminded, or childishly self-
absorbed. Callers who even more unconsciously blemish-scanned or
nostril-explored looked up to find horrified expressions on the video-faces
at the other end. All of which resulted in videophonic stress.
Even worse, of course, was the traumatic expulsion-from-Eden feeling of
looking up from tracing your thumb’s outline on the Reminder Pad or ad-
justing the old Unit’s angle of repose in your shorts and actually seeing your
videophonic interfacee idly strip a shoelace of its gimlet as she talked to
you, and suddenly realizing the whole infantile fantasy of commanding
your partner’s attention while you yourself got to fugue-doodle and make
little genital-adjustments was deluded and insupportable and that you were
actually commanding not one bit more attention than you were paying,
here. The whole attention business was monstrously stressful, video callers
found.”
David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest, pp 144-7

I have spared those readers who couldn’t care less from continuing any further, but if you’ve made it all the way to this point, congralations! If you liked it, and want to continue reading, there’sl more than 1,000 pages of Infinite Jest out there waiting for you.

For now though, you can get on Skype and give me a call. Ask me to videochat, if you dare… I promise I won’t subject you to an image of me conducting a tactile blemish-scan!

]]> http://mattleewright.wordpress.com/2009/09/10/searching/ Thu, 10 Sep 2009 12:54:04 +0000 Matt http://mattleewright.wordpress.com/2009/09/10/searching/

This time tomorrow I expect to be safely ensconced on train, zooming southwards to a potential new home.

Well… it might be a little to early to say that. At the very least I’ll be on the lookout for a new home.

My plan to form a bigger business venture with a business partner might happen, or it might not happen. It all hinges upon us both finding somewhere decent to live that isn’t expensive. In fact, cheap enough that a six month tenancy will be worth the gamble.

So far we’ve not made all that good progress using the internet. We have found a couple of properties, and even booked in for some viewings, but it is a shame that in two cases we have since been called up to say that the property is gone. One of those in particular was something that looked extremely good for us.

But nothing beats actually getting out there and searching for yourself. Most of the work will be done in the space of six hours or so on Saturday. It will, no doubt, be a tiring experience. There’s certainly a lot of ground to cover, as there is more than one potential town on the horizon that we could live in.

It’s an exciting time for me… I’m having some doubts about whether this is a good idea… but every time I have them I realise that I have no other real option. Staying here for the rest of my life is not doable. And, the more I work for other people, the more I want to work for myself, and make it happen properly.

In theory this could all go very quickly once we’re committed. There is no time like the present, after all. I don’t really know how the logistics of the move will work, but in any event it’s not something I need to worry about now. These things will come together somehow.

The key to it will be hitting the ground running. Once I’m settled down I’ll have to think hard for ways in which to make the computer repair/retail thing really take off. I’ll be more willing to leaflet and advertise to wider areas once I’ve got proper transport available, which can only help. Right now I’m terrified of the phone ringing and the customer saying they’re in a place 15 miles away… because I either have to turn them down or it turns into a big travel commitment.

But that’s all for the future. Who knows, it might not even happen. After all, in the past week, I’ve actually been really busy with my business and other things in my life. So much so that I was starting to feel quite good about myself again.

But I knew today would come, when there are no calls, and once again I’m sitting here… waiting… for something, anything, to distract me. Hoping that that something might earn me some money.

And that’s no good.

And that’s why the search is on.

At night I dream the passes

that linger like jellyfish

translucent and menacing

with cold, numb sight

dimly illuminating

things not there

and stinging all who

breach their faithful vigil.

Tomorrow is the last day of the semester. I’m gonna miss this credit-earning-enforced breakneck pace of working out. I hope I can sustain some semblance of it after this semester.

Good thing is the fitness center will be open during the break. I’ll be able to work out there.

So…as of tomorrow I’ll officially have an AA degree. Woohoo. Insha Allah.

I’ve been looking through the university course catalog, and all the courses in the Sports and Fitness Bachelor of Science look appealing to me. There is another BS for Athletic Training, which seems more rigorous in that you have to take anatomy and physiology, chemistry, statistics, all that stuff. Money making stuff. That might be better for a major, and take the sports and fitness as a minor? I have no idea. I should talk to my kickboxing professor and get advice from her on what I should do if I decide to pursue a career in fitness training.

It’s probably too late to get in, anyway. Whatever. I was going to go today to the admissions office but I just made a ton of excuses about the rain and having to do a final exam. I just worked out instead.

The evil part of me is saying forget about it all, you’re just gonna eventually drop out again like you always do, just take a month to get a CNA license and a gym membership and start taking care of old ladies and working on getting a really slammin’ body in the meantime.

I guess that’s why I keep delaying. What’s the point of wasting all that money if I’m just gonna fail?

But I love school. I’m only happy when I’m in school. Even when I hate it, I love it. Academically I’m just more of a sprinter than a long-distance runner. I wish I could get a Bachelor’s in a month. This years-and-years of school thing just doesn’t work for me. I don’t even know where I’m going to be at 6 months from now, how do people do this?

One day at a time. Everyday I wake up and get out of bed is a victory, even if I don’t think so. I just gotta keep saying NO to everything and everyone that doesn’t benefit me or my life. My phone doesn’t ring as much (try at all) but I’m grateful. The less people who waste my time, the better.

“he only cheats on his wife when he’s drunk”

now lets back up…

The reality of travel is there will inevitably be an overweight, or smelly or some sort of undesirable wanting to sit next to you; they also usually want to talk.

Its always a fantasy to have a gorgeous foriegn man seated by your side, even better when they let you sleep.

After about seven solid hours in a business class bed/seat it was time for breakfast and my ‘neighbor’ was up too – suprisingly he spoke english with a sexy husky accent. 

We discussed cultural differences and american views on marriage.  He tells me how he loves and respects his wife; so he “only cheats if he’s really drunk” …. and I turn back to my book.  Really?! You admit that to a stranger stone cold sober – at least he’s not like his friends who will cheat without a guise of booze…

…and you all wonder why I’m still shopping around – I will miss my foriegn specimens but with a refreshing and demure trepidation I return to enjoy the dating game on local soil.

xVix

I know I have been away from this blog in a while. And for a while there has been nothing to write about. Everything seemed to be going somewhat ok. Just cruzing along.

A new complication has entered my life. A guy that is a friend of friend has taken a shine to me I think? We went out last Sunday night and I had a good time. Good food and good company. He messaged me the next day and nothing since. In a way I don’t really care, but a small part of me does.

Last weekend, the other guy I’m kinda seeing – although the relationship itself is slowly dissipating, had problems with the police. He drank too much and then drove – silly boy! He called me the next day and told me all about it then said call you later and never did. What can you do really? Although he did leave a message on my facebook page. Like the little child that I am I sent him a text saying that caring is leaving a message on facebook but not calling when you say would. So incredibly childish but so satisfying.

Now, god help me, I have a major crush on a guy that I work with. I don’t know what the hell it is about this guy, but crush big time. Perhaps its the fact that he always smells good? I think it has to be more then that though.

Thank the heavens that I have all of next week off! I can regroup and think about everything and sort my crazy thoughts out. I think its exactly what I need.

I sit here thinking about everything at the moment, reflecting on the events of the past week.

The last weekend, my x and I got back together. It was wonderful. I was so happy, even though there was a part of me deep inside that was still a little doubtful. Sadly we fell back into old ways, but it was comforting in a way.

Then Friday came along. I had a good time, out with friends, dancing on the bar and having a few drinks. I got home, tired but happy to find my bf leaving. Perplexed, I went inside and saw the computer on with the other pages of my blog open and a photo that was taken four years ago up on the screen. I called him several times to find out what was going on. He didn’t answer and I send messages pleading with him to talk to me. Then I sat down and started to think about everything and I got angry. How dare he snoop through my stuff! How can he have the audacity to do this to me. My concern as to what was going on turned to full fledged anger and we broke up again. The other guy that I had been seeing while we had broken up previously called me and asked if he could come over. I said yes. I didn’t care anymore and I was lonely and needed someone here with me. I was being selfish.

The weekend has been spent throwing text messages back and forth. Not sorting anything out. I feel so angry and betrayed. I really don’t know what to do with myself.

A tiny part of me wants him back, but not really because of what he did. He thinks I cheated on him when I didn’t. I still have tears for him.

Current guy is just strange and I’m not quite sure what to make of him. I like him, but the sex on Friday night was pretty bad. He’s a bit irritating and squirms a lot. He wants to be my submissive, but training him will take a lot of time and effort. I’m not sure that I want to do that.

The only thing I’m really thankful for is the fact that he didn’t find this blog. So strange, I don’t care if total strangers read my inner most private thoughts, but I can’t stand the idea of anyone who actually knows me reading them and getting a depth of insight into me that I don’t think that I have.

I think that time is needed at the moment to try and sort all of these issues out. I think there is only so much that you can sort out by writing it all down.

Perhaps tomorrow in the light of the day, things will be different.

I am really scared about the placement tomorrow.  I know a lot of the fear is unjustified but given previous experiences some of it is extremely justified.  I am having trouble distinguishing which is which.

My stress about the 8.30-4.30 working hours has been significantly raised by being informed by my supervisor that those are not, in fact, my hours and uni were wrong in telling me.  My official hours are now 8am-4pm.  Eeep.  I know for a fact that this supervisor expects me to be changed and at my desk working for 7.50 despite the 8am start.  I have been practicing getting up early, it’s not going all that well , I haven’t really managed a day without an afternoon sleep.  I wonder if I could just curl up for an hour in the corner of the office?  I doubt they’d miss me, my contribution to the team isn’t going to be immense.  I am more of a sheep following her around and always an object to trip over.

I will be in the way, slowing down her work.  Being a supervisor to a student has to be the worst part of the job.

I am a bit bothered that absolutely every member of staff in the office will know that I am bipolar.  I know that stigma shouldn’t exist, especially not within the health service but it definitely does.  For example in my last placement with the same supervisor, despite the fact I was on a fast downward slope into a depressive episode, I was told directly that “If your not fit to do the job then you shouldn’t be doing it.”  I found this to be incredibly unfair.  I am a student and not yet qualified, I am there to LEARN and BE TAUGHT.  Not to be told that I am unfit to work.  Sometimes I am fucking amazing, other times I know I am crap.  Needless to say on that occasion my self-confidence simply skyrocketed. not.

I want top be liked and marked on my performance for who I am and how I work.  I don’t want a sympathy vote for having bipolar disorder.  At the same time I expect not to be penalised for having it either.  I guess there is a fine line but I feel that making people feel guilty for having a health condition and telling them they are unfit to do the job despite many professional opinions saying otherwise is completely out of line.  As a result there is more pressure on me to be better than other, healthy, students just to prove my point.

Slapping her in the face is apparently not a viable option, it’s deemed as unprofessional behaviour.  Sometimes I am left thinking that giving people a violent shake is the only thing that  might help.  Damn .

It will probably all be fine but being the eternal optimist I can’t help feeling totally scared ans stressed about it.

Yes, there is a recipe for beating stress!

First let’s play a game, answer these few questions for me:

1. Did you leave an unmade bed at home?
2. Do you have a messy closet in your home?
3. Do you have a messy handbag?
4. Would you find it difficult to tell me what you’re having for dinner five days from now?
5. Do you have dirty dishes sitting in your kitchen sink?
6. Would it take you more than three minutes to find your last tax return and documents?
7. Did you forget to kiss your husband before you (or he) left home?
8. Do you have one or more piles of paper around your house-on top of the refrigerator, game table, kitchen counter, desk, or on the floor?

How did you do? Did you answer “no” to six of the questions? How about four? Two? One? Don’t feel bad. We all understand the struggle to control our lives.  Life’s trials…

• Hassles: Any of life’s pressures or traumas will do.
• Hustle: These are common everyday demands and can be supplied by any family member, neighbor, employer, children’s club, church duty, or committee responsibility.
• Hurried(s): You can pick them fresh, directly off your schedule, expectations, and responsibilities.

Don’t despair; help is on the way!

It’s called Organization, and I’m glad to share it with one and all:

• 1 quality period of time with God each day.
• 1 list of carefully-thought-through- long-term and short-term goals.
• 1 list of priority activities to direct you toward achieving those goals.
• 1 monthly calendar
• 1 weekly schedule book
• 1 pad of daily schedules
• 10-25 (or more, as needed) boxes with lids
• 1 box of file folders
• Several large trash bags
• 1 pad of weekly menu planners
• Assorted jars, shoeboxes, pens, baskets, and trays as needed
• Label 7 folders: 1 Immediate Attention, 1 To Do, 1 To Call, 1 To Pay, 1 To Order, 1 To File, 1 Junk Mail

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; and by knowledge the rooms are filled with all the precious and pleasant riches.” ~ Proverbs

My sanctuary is not mine any more.
My memory place,
Once such an opulent splendour,
Is dirty, gloomy and covered in fine cobwebs.
Where as I had previously relished walking down its rich hallway runners,
Each room only I was privy to,
Feels like its been invaded now.
The once beautiful richly coloured woven runners that lie in the hallways,
Which had pleased the soles of my feet with their rough coarse weave,
Are now torn and dirty and dark.
The rooms that had held my most treasured memories,
Now sit shuttered and dark,
Fine webs adorn the corners.
The walls with their rich mosaic of colourful fabrics are now faded and torn.
I feel so conflicted, sad and angry.
My solitude has appeared to have dissolved,
Dissipated into wisps of smoke.
It feels like I’m sitting in a murky puddle of my own tears.
Just wallowing in my sadness and despair.
Images of you dance and swirl inside my head.
Being pulled along on strings like twisted puppets.
I sit and muse.
Wonder whether or not I’m doing the right thing.
Sometimes I wish that there was a way for me to know.
Is there an oracle that I can ask?
A divine being that will tell me if I’m doing the right thing?
Darkness all around me.
Silver moonlight beams frolic across the floor.
Little spirited nymphs twisting in my minds eye.
Hazy smoke surrounds me.
Infecting all my being.
Confusion gnawing at the edges of my mind.
As I sit in the orderly disarray of my world.
U still dance across my mind on silver strings.
Fragmented conversations.
Bit answers and bit replies.
My brow furrows as I ponder.
Am I travelling along the right path?

This blog will focus on my attempts to become a better person. It will also focus on my attempts to change the world into a better place. The logic follows as such: If I become a better person, the world will become better. Also, if the world becomes better then I have to become better.

Anyway, the main point of this post is to tell everyone and anyone what is going on in my life.

I have been invited to join the Peace Corps!

This is EXACTLY what is on the booklet they gave me:

YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Country: Philippines
Program: Education
Job Titles under this Project: Teacher of English Language Fluency
Dates of Service: November 13, 2009 – November 13, 2011
Orientation Dates: August 19 – 21, 2009
Pre-Service Training (In the Philippines) August 22 – November 12, 2009
*dates subject to change.

Hopefully that will answer most of the preliminary questions.

I thought I’d write about the process a bit.

“I’m in the open catching all the leaves . . .” – Dispatch

I often feel like my life is, for the most part, serendipitous. I get thrown into several situations.
Some that seem impossible. Then things reach a breaking point. I almost lose. I ALMOST fail.
Then my head pushes itself out from underground, the light hits my face, and everything just somehow turns out alright. I don’t deserve anything.

I have TECHNICALLY been a part of the Peace Corps. process since my freshman year of college. I have a military family. My family has a strong sense of nationalism and doing something for your country has always been a large part of my life. Unfortunately, as I grew older I became less interested in the military. It just did not fit in with my life philosophy. I would never disrespect a soldier and I have the utmost respect for our troops. I do. However, I just do not and (so far) can not see any glory in killing people in order to get your point across. I don’t have a conclusive answer to the question of what we should do when atrocities happen to people. However, I don’t think the answer is killing the oppressors. Maybe it is and I am just to idealistic to realize this. But for now, I am a peacemaker. There is a theory that war is perpetual. In other words, every war brings with it a period of peace. However, the memory lives on and eventually creates a new conflict. That was not very eloquent I know, but that’s the gist.

Nonetheless, my pacifist leanings did not take away the desire to do something for the country in which I live. I always figured that if you have no love for your country, then you should probably live elsewhere. Seriously. I have plenty of problems with the country, but underlying all of that is a fondness for it, despite the flaws. Anyway, once, during an enormous swell of self-righteousness and inadequacy I scoured the net for ways in which to impact the world. I found the Peace Corps. and realized that it was the perfect fit. I could serve my country, still be a peacemaker, and even change the world in the process.

After 4 years of informational meetings, doubt, more meetings, paperwork, and waiting . . . a lot of waiting. I got a package in the mail with a letter enclosed that read, “You are cordially invited to join Peace Corps Philippines’ Education Project as a Teacher of English Language Fluency” and I first thought, “I wonder if anyone has ever been unkindly invited to something rather than cordially” no really, has there ever been an invitation that read something like, “you are begrudgingly invited to . . .”

My response was not what I always imagined for myself. There was not an overwhelming sense of joy. There was not a feeling of relief knowing that I am FINALLY official. No. The only emotion I initially felt was overwhelming fear. I couldn’t believe I was actually going.

That’s where I am right now. I am directly between immense joy and trepidation. The more I read, the more excited I become. The more I talk about it, the more excited I become. In fact, as I type this I feel an immense shift in my emotions. I am a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) and I am going to change the world! brandonwantstochangetheworld and this is his first step. The next step is probably something along the lines of getting back in shape.

much love,

- Brandon Holly –

p.s. – I have two e-mails the yahoo one and my other new e-mail is BrandonKHolly@gmail.com

p.p.s. – If you know the yahoo, just use it (but I don’t want the name of that one getting around everywhere) so don’t post it here.

p.p.p.s. – If you’re not sure if you know me . . . you do.

Today you came to talk.
Instead of starting a fresh,
You gathered your things and left.
We seemed to go around in circles,
Not getting anywhere except circling the past.
I don’t know what I wanted.
But I think you wanted us to stay as we were.
Before you left you hugged me.
With such passion and strength that I haven’t felt from you in so so long.
We kissed briefly on the lips & I couldn’t help myself from kissing you more.
All the emotions that I had felt before came rushing back.
We connected again.
I had to let go – afraid of going back to were we used to be.
That comforting limbo of a relationship.
The reason that we broke up in the first place.
My heart broke when you left.
My knees collapsed and the tears flowed again.
So painful because I remembered how much I love you.
With all my heart I really truly love you
But I don’t love the way our relationship was.

He’s coming to see me today. I’m not sure what to expect or what to say. I think he wants to talk about getting back together.

Phew has it been a long day today!

First thing was going to the dentist for the second appointment for my root canal. This time wasn’t as bad. The injection hurt like holy hell as usual and I was drenched in sweat and shaking from the stress of it all but over all not so bad. The nurse held my hand and the dentist crooned away telling me everything was going to be ok and that it wasn’t going to hurt. Felt a little strange as usual but seeing that I act like a five year old, then its only fair to be treated like one. Its a lot better then being treated with disdain for being afraid.

After a relaxing afternoon waiting for the numbness to go away, I got a call from a friend wanting to know if I was still seeing him tonight. I said yes even though I was feeling under the weather but figured it would be best to go and catch up with people instead of behaving like a hermit.

The second call I got was from another mate, whom I hadn’t spoken to for months. We caught up on various events and he asked about my relationship with the now x. I said we had broken up. He enquired as to whether or not I was seeing anyone else and I said yes kinda. I heard swearing on the other of the phone. I gathered that he wasn’t happy that I wasn’t completely single. I think that he still holds a candle for me. Its funny, because I did fancy him when I first met him. He said not interested and so he went to the don’t even bother basket in my mind. I think its unfortunate for him as he will never get out of that basket.

Speaking of being in the not even bother basket, I went and saw an old friend of 9 years. We sat around and talked, got ice cream and he asked about how my relationship with the x was going. I told him very similar to what I told my other mate and damn the reaction from him! It really shocked me. He said in a loud voice, I’ve fucking been in love with you ever since I met you and you can’t even call me when your single! He sounded so aggressive and pissed off.

It was very strange to say the least, far from anything that I had expected. He ranted on about whether or not I had seen the signs. Guess my intuition is on the fritz at the moment.

I think all in all I can’t always expect to know everything. At the very least I can take it all into stride and see what the next day brings as I’m sure it can’t be as full on as it was today.

I thought that the tears had finally stopped, but last night as I was watching tv, trying to unwind, they started up again. Just randomly, or perhaps it was something in the tv show, the tears flowed again. It felt like they wouldn’t stop.

Perhaps the tears are still with me as I haven’t properly mourned the death of my previous relationship and have jumped straight into a new relationship, without even blinking twice. Why did I do that? What am I doing?

Let your tears come.  Let them water your soul.

Eileen Mayhew

If my tears are watering my soul, it must be lush with growth. Perhaps this experience is making me stronger in ways that I am unable to fathom at the moment.

It is some relief to weep; grief is satisfied and carried off by tears.

Ovid

Perhaps this is where I am going wrong and not letting my sadness, melancholy and grief be washed away by the tears that keep flowing down my cheeks. Last night it had felt like the fragile bracelet that holds my tears had once more broken and the tears just cascaded down my cheeks once more.

The worst thing about all these tears and the sadness that they make me feel is that I begin to remember past hurts and grief and it all makes me cry more.

I thought about when my x had told me that he was getting back together with his gf, when we first met. The pain and rejection that I had felt at that time was so intense that my legs buckled and I fell to the floor sobbing huge racking tears. I’ve never felt such intense emotion since. That was so powerful.

I thought about when the guy I was seeing when I was 20 died of a heart attack. I received the phone call early one morning and went into shock. The pain for this event was deeper and profound. The grief was somehow that bad, that my body just said sorry not dealing with this crap today. I do remember that I couldn’t stop crying for a long long time. But in that situation I believe that its more acceptable.

I thought about when I caught my x writing sexy emails to some internet whore. That damn near ripped my heart out. I wonder if I would have been better off just breaking up with him then and there. I didn’t, instead I tried to understand.

I though about the night that we did break up for real. So many hurtful things were said, and he took a whole heap of stuff from my place, all the time being angry and agressive. I finally slammed the door behind him and sat up against it waiting for him to leave. He came back later that night and apologised, but I couldn’t take him back. A week later though, we did get back together on tenuous ground. Perhaps we had been on that ground ever since.

How is that when we are sad the brain brings up all the hidden sadness that we have locked away and shines light on to it?