Behind Green Eyes

Sing with me!

2012-01-31T20:15:00.000-08:00

I've rediscovered my guitar.

A good friend of mine had a small concert on campus this last week and after listening to her gorgeous voice and mad guitar skills, I got all inspired. I stayed up till 2am a couple days ago playing on it, googling chord progressions and how to finger-pick Mumford and Sons. It was super fun and now my fingertips are covered in blisters. Good blisters.

The problem is, I need someone to harmonize with....it totally doesn't work by yourself.

So yeah, seriously. No auditions required. ;)

3 Strikes You're Out

2012-01-25T23:30:00.000-08:00

I fell in love today. Seriously though, I did.

He was sitting right next to me in US-Latin American Politics and Economic Relations class and I kinda happened to notice numerous political pins covering his burlap man-purse. Interesting points = 5

As a class we were watching a sobering documentary on the Chilean coup of 1973 (wherein Allende was murdered and Pinochet established) and we were both quietly cussing under our breaths...in Spanish. The film was entirely in Spanish, so I feel like we were both culturally inspired, not nerds. Interesting points = 4

I also kinda happened to notice he was taking detailed notes...in Spanish. Interesting points = 5

I decided it would be a terrible waste to let all these interesting points go to waste, so when the 3-hr lecture finally ended, I had to talk to him....in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, I really don't mean to be nosy, but I couldn't help but notice you were taking notes in Spanish."

-- He gets this awkward little smile going like "uh yeah...that *is* kinda weird...". A green eye winks.

We get talking, and it turns out he's Troy from LA, a master's student studying Latin American politics, lived in Northern Spain (the Basque country to be exact) for a year, and conducted research in Argentina last summer. He thought I was from Spain. (Go ahead and read that sentence again....he thought I was from Spain.) Interesting points = off the wall. So there we were, two American kids fully capable of carrying on a conversation in English, chattering happily away in Spanish for over 20 minutes; both thrilled to have found a buddy to practice with.

We get to the bus station, our buses come, and we part ways.

I get to my dorm and breathlessly tell my roommates about this darling, green-eyed, Spanish-speaking, master's student who's traveled the world and thinks I'm from Spain. I guess smitten would be an appropriate word at this point. But one of my roommates, bent on bursting any romantic bubble I might ever create, slowly reveals a string of devastating facts: 1) he's her TA, 2) he has a girlfriend, 3) and when speaking english (so, 99% of the time) he's appallingly awkward. I guess the class secretly laughs at him he's so awkward.

Soooo, there goes that. Fail. I've therefore decided Troy from LA will officially just be my Spanish buddy and we'll sit in class and cuss together in our cultural outrage.

And I'll pretend I'm from Spain.

Little things...

2012-01-23T15:55:00.000-08:00

...make a day beautiful.

Like a pet butterfly. Even if it's fake. ;)

Asian Pears

2012-01-21T19:37:00.000-08:00

There's a little fruit stand outside our local Trader Joes. A tiny, colorful sign points to the red tent shading the many boxes of fruit, but dozens just pass by. They're too busy to even look.

My roommate and I were attracted by the low prices and the enticing smell of citrus. Walking over, I thought I'd died and gone to fruit heaven; you could smell the incredible ripeness of the fruit. Pineapples, guavas, raspberries, huge oranges, tomatoes the size of your fist, clusters of bananas...it was Eden.

And then I found the asian pears.

Golden brown, perfectly round, and so ripe you could smell their sweetness, they just sat there screaming my name. I'm on a ridiculously tight budget, but I bought ten. :)

Upon my first bite, I was instantly transported to late summer afternoons in the backyard. Sacramento is an oven in the summer; heat would waves ripple up from the concrete as we kids tromped around in our swimsuits. I remember waiting all summer for the asian pears to ripen...we'd feel them, smell them, watch them, waiting for them to turn golden and sweet. There was something so special about finally picking one. The cicadas were excruciatingly loud, the heat sticky, and we'd lay in the grass under the trees and let the pear juice trickle down our hands.

Good days.

Gerberas

2012-01-18T22:45:00.000-08:00

I bought myself flowers this morning. They're so colorful, and beautiful, and happy and I love them.

Failed Fashion

2012-01-17T11:26:00.001-08:00

I was incredibly darling this morning, ifIdosaysomyself.

I was sporting knee-high leather boots from Spain, a flowy white camisole from Italy, a blue belt, and fun, sparkly Mediterranean beads. I even curled my hair a bit. Yeah, I was fashion herself. I spent plenty of time in the mirror admiring myself, telling myself how cute and international I was, and feeling my self-confidence swell to embarrassing levels.

But then I stepped outside and froze. I mean, frozefroze. Like, when did La Jolla turn into freaking Antarctica?

Sooooo, now I'm in my uggs and UCSD sweatshirt and officially not darling. Or cute. Or international.

I'm a grey blob...but I'm warm. That counts for a lot, I've decided. Warmth is where it's act. So! I've got my blue shades instead of my sexy blue belt...and I'm gonna go rock this freezing cold day. Kapow.

Josh Groban and Powerful Adjectives

2012-01-16T19:33:00.000-08:00

I'm camped out at my little desk, mocha in hand, listening to Boston's More Than a Feeling and Eric Carmen's Hungry Eyes. Pandora's been a bit of a life-saver as I've spent way too many hours here already studying away. I've started creating different stations for different subjects: soft rock for global medicine, funk for mental illness, indie for ethnic studies, and my latin american politics class is a strange mix of samba and reggae. Pro: it definitely preserves my attention span, but Con: I've realized that when certain genres of music come on the radio now, I immediately revert to the respective class....I think I'm scarring myself. That's a little frightening.

Meanwhile, opera has been the defining soundtrack for my scholarship applications. There are a bunch due in February, so my studies are punctuated with working on personal statements and ridiculously concise essays. Josh Groban, Sarah Brightman, Andrea Bocelli, Celine Dion, Celtic Women...they've all kept me company as I try to transform myself into a deity for the scholarship committees. Hopefully it works, getting even one or two of the scholarships would make my future life *so* much easier. Here's to crossing my fingers and using powerful adjectives.

Unnamed Sister

2012-01-15T19:47:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking and writing about my classes lately. I'm learning, discovering, exploring many new concepts and realities and I have to write about them. That's how I process.

Many times, my writings are rather dismal outpourings of a frustrated heart and restless mind. They're not cheery, but they're real. Real problems and real people.

And yet, I feel I want to preserve this blog as a slightly more upbeat place of expression. I therefore created a new blog: http.unnamedsister.blogspot.com where I can write, rant, theorize, and post without hesitation for fear of readers' depression. Not that all on this blog is depressing and kleenex-worthy...but the world is full of tragedy as well as beauty, and I want to write about it. A lot.

Visit it if you want. It's mostly there for me, but it could easily become communal food for thought as well.

Hermit's Secret

2012-01-14T17:08:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last two days as a hermit.

Yesterday I didn't do my makeup, ate cereal all day, worked on scholarship apps and watched three movies. I did crunches and made a huge batch of cookies (seems counterproductive, I know). I didn't answer the door or my cellphone. I didn't even respond to texts.

Today was pretty similar, though the morning was spent at an orientation for my new job. But I came home, changed into my jammies, and holed up. I wrote letters to overseas friends. I watched the sun set over the ocean. I ignored the doorbell. I skyped with my mom. I took a nap. I rediscovered Loreena McKennitt. And I spent a lot of time thinking.

I've been doing a lot of intellectual consuming lately, but not much digesting. My classes are intense, challenging, fascinating, dark, cynical, and inspiring...but I haven't really processed what I'm reading and hearing. I liked just curling up in my big blue swivel chair and thinking. Or not thinking. Just being.

Hermits are onto something.

Small, glowing embers

2012-01-13T12:10:00.000-08:00

Watchman, what of the night? So many victims in so many places need help. We need, above all, to be shaken out of our indifference - the greatest source of danger in the world.

Indifference leads to silence. There must be words for those who care. Ignorance leads to silence. There must be records of past and present cruelties done in the world so that each generation can remember - not only the evil of the past, but also the glowing goodness, the courage and decency, which exists in the darkest days.

Words...destroy indifference and awaken remembrance. The words are small, glowing embers of despair. And hope. They are history, and they are prayers.

-Elie Wiesel & Albert Friedlainder

Thanks to Juliet for the quote

Spanish Decay

2011-12-31T08:56:00.000-08:00

Typical night...

2011-12-30T13:03:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T05:55:00.000-08:00

A christmas favorite has always been the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Not entirely sure why, but laughing at the Grinch's sinister smile and singing along to Ravenscroft's "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" has been an annual tradition.

The little dog is darling, the Whos are ridiculously utopic, the grinch defies physics way too many times, and the songs are weirdly catchy. My mom has been using the movie as a teaching tool in her english classes here in Spain; it's rather amusing to see her students watch it for the first time. Their expressions subconsciously mirror those of the grinch. Once the movie ends, she explains the moral: it's not the presents or decorations or location at Christmas that's important, but being with those you love.

Christmas in Spain is different. Really different...but it's still just as special. Our Christmas tree is a wooden triangle atop a post. Decorated in colorful trimmings, fruit and plants from the region, and bright red candles, El Ramo is a different kind of tree....but I think it's beautiful. There are no presents beneath it, there aren't any twinkling lights. No christmas music plays on the radio (haha, a bit of a relief), Santa Claus is made fun of, and there's no eggnog.

Our Christmas Tree

Last night, we all crowded around Enrique's family's table in Léon to celebrate Christmas Eve. The Spanish chatter rose as everyone joked, laughed, teased, and ate merrily. The talk was cheery, but I'll admit, the food was daunting. The first course was eel salad. You look down at your greens and sitting atop are dozens of little, squishy baby eels. Yeah...that was rough. Needless to say, Christmas meals are rather different here too.

We squeezed all ten of us into the kitchen

But this place is beautiful, and today we had an American meal so I could relax with my pumpkin pie and green bean casserole. Food security blanket, thankyouverymuch. When all is said and done, though, it's like the grinch discovers...it's not about the food, nor the location, nor what actually happens at Christmas. At the risk of being super cheesy, it's being with those you love that makes it a real holiday.

Merry Christmas. Give someone a hug.

Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T03:53:00.001-08:00

The sun is up, but the air is chilly.

Beneath my third-story window, people pass by bundled in colorful scarves, thick jackets, and knee-high leather boots. The narrow, cobbled streets are full of people, but they're socializing, not frantically buying last-minute presents. The town is small and the people grew up together.

When we walk through the town, the elderly stop and give Mom and Enrique their blessings. We are called into shops just to say hello or catch up on the day's happenings. People are busy, but relaxed; there's time to visit or stop for churros. Peaceful.

And for the last couple days, there's been music in the streets. I listen to the cathedral bells tolling in the night and in the morning, chimes play traditional carols and hymns to the people of Astorga. Through the narrow streets, there's the constant sound of singing or bells...most tunes I recognize, some are new, all are beautiful. Life is quiet here; easy-going.

People of Madrid

2011-12-20T15:32:00.000-08:00

So ready

2011-12-08T15:34:00.000-08:00

I'm halfway through finals. Tomorrow I've got two back to back. That'll be interesting.

My brain is jumbled and full of too many facts, theories, ideas, and musings....therefore this will proceed in bullet form:

* After tomorrow I will have finished my first quarter at a UC. A real UC. Me. I looked back in my calendar a couple days ago and realized that one year ago, to the day, I flew down here to tour the campus and meet with the dean. I didn't know what my major really was. I wasn't sure what the campus had to offer. I didn't think this school was even a possibility, but my mom made me fly down here to check it out anyways. Well, I thought I had landed in paradise (I kinda had) and now here I am exactly a year later. Challenged, but thriving. Who would've thought?

* Tomorrow's gonna kick my butt. Still a little in terrified denial.

* By mistake, I had double health insurance this quarter. However, my UCSD coverage ends on Monday. Since I'm going to be traveling/studying abroad a lot in the next couple months, I decided it was strategic to get all my vaccinations taken care of now since they're free for the next four days. So, I'm officially taking finals a tad drugged up; T-Dap and typhoid immunizations done, a ton of malaria pills, prescriptions in case of yellow fever or chagas disease, and preventative medication for dengue fever. It's pretty intense being an international relations major. :)

* I'm driving home in two days. And I'm going to Spain in 9. Home! Spain! NINE DAYS. That's enough to drive me to distraction...I'm ready to toss finals out the window. No. No I'm not. But maybe....

* My roommates and I have decided that this is the worst time of the quarter for us (you're thinking, 'no duh'). It's finals. We're sleep deprived, famished, stressed, chock-full of facts and statistics, breaking-out, bitchy, and generally not very nice people to be around. I'm surprised my neighbors still talk to me...but then again, they're being bitchy too, so we're all equals here. Finals week is cruel to everyone. And we're boring. There's nothing new to report, "Oh hey! How was your day?" "*gurgle* It went something like six hours in the library studying...". And even when there IS something kinda cool that happened over the weekend, the neighbors were there, so they already know. We're all suuuuper ready for break so we can become interesting, lively, happy, nice people once again.

Viva la christmas.

Finals

2011-12-04T12:56:00.000-08:00

I'm gonna be MIA from facebook (and life in general) for a while.

International Rescue Committee

2011-12-01T08:41:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm volunteering with them, I see the IRC everywhere.

One of groups presenting in my refugee-health class highlighted the IRC's work in Burma, the IRC has been heavily involved with the Lost Boys of Sudan, and look!...they're even advertising on my music playlists.

I think that's really, really cool. So yes....I may or may not have a dozen screen-shots of IRC advertisements on my computer now.

Perfection

2011-11-30T11:32:00.000-08:00

The winds changed this morning. Sweeping low across the ocean, they cover the campus in the smell of seaweed and salt. A seagull cackles as it soars by.

Finals week is upon us and the campus is blanketed in a quiet energy. Studying becomes urgent, bleary-eyed students emerge from the library where they've been all night, the coffee line becomes immense. Emergency study groups are being formed. Social interaction has died in the span of just a few days. We're cramming.

And the air smells of the sea. It's called perfection.

Hope

2011-11-30T00:24:00.000-08:00

I have a very depressing major.

It's become something we laugh about in my international studies classes; we come in with our coffee, bracing ourselves for more dismal facts and discouraging development failures. I get out of that and head to genocide class....woop de doo. I study death. I study exploitation and inequality. I analyze marginalization, gender-based violence, pogroms, civil wars, the ravages of unchecked capitalism, and the effects of centuries of colonialism. It's intense and sometimes I just think, "It's all wrong and there's nothing we can do. We're all just screwed."

But then there are speeches like Sam's. Simple, honest, genuine. A dedication to all things good, pure, and possible. There is good in this world, and as cheesy as it sounds on screen, we really do have to fight for it. Otherwise, this whole thing is pretty pointless.

There's a quote I'm madly in love with right now. "He who saves one life, saves the world entire." You can't focus on the huge, save-the-world picture...it's the small things, the details, the one life...that's what has to matter. That's where you'll find hope.

More on this later. It's almost 1am...and I have genocide in a couple hours.

Lizzy

2011-11-27T20:21:00.001-08:00

My roommate burst into our living room to find me working on a paper and sniffling away. I guess spending hours in airports and not sleeping ruins your immune system so here I am with an official cold. Crap.

She, being a saint and all, marched into the kitchen and found me a giant glass of EmergenC and an apple. Cuz it'll keep the doctor away.

I like roommates.

musings

2011-11-26T07:53:00.000-08:00

McDonalds has the worst coffee in the world. Ever.

I'm waiting in an airport again trying to stave oFf intense sleepyness. I feel like a total zombie. Mr. Darling-European is sitting there looking like a god and I'm a zombie drinking McDonald's coffee. Might as well wear a badge saying "I'm a broke, exhausted college student with no caffine standards"...and I'm reading Plato. It's forced nerdiness!! Sigh.

On a different note, thanksgiving was wonderful. Not really the food (the potatoes tasted like vinegar and we had corn/bacon ice-cream >.< ), but chilling with family was awesome. And we saw wild zebra at Hearst Castle. And we played guesstures. And laughed...a lot.

thanksgiving

2011-11-24T05:42:00.000-08:00

It's 5:40am and I've already been up for three hours. Stayed up way too late working on a paper,crashed, then woke up way too early to pack and get my tired ass to the airport. And now I'm in the airport watching my little plane taxi to the terminal.

- love airports...even at 5:40 in the morning. Everyone here has a story. Everyone's going somewhere. Each terminal is literally a door to another world; you just walk through and fly to somewhere different and new. It's the closest we can get to Narnia or Monsters Inc.

I've never had to fly somewhere for Thanksgiving before. We've always spent the week before Thanksgiving cleaning, decorating, getting the fall boxes down from the attic, ironing the leaf table-cloths, polishing the silverware, setting the tables for dozens of people, and listening to Keith Green. This year it's just me. Thanksgiving is at my tios' home in Paso Robles and I'll be there in just a couple hours. It's going to be so wonderful seeing everyone; cousins, siblings, grandparents, family, and I really can't wait. This year has been intense academically and as much as I miss our Thanksgiving traditions, it's so nice to just hop on a plane and be there. Everything's already done. For thatN I am extremely greatful.

Happy Thanksgiving.

For What It's Worth

2011-11-22T07:35:00.000-08:00

There's something happening here

What it is ain't exactly clear

There's a man with a gun over there

Telling me I got to beware

I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound