Wednesday, December 31, 2003

Ah, the New Year. I feel like I should be more excited about it being New Year's Eve, or that I should have some resolutions or something in mind. I guess I just feel like Ronan when he told me today, "it's just another day, and there will be another day after that and 364 more after that." I wonder if he feels the same way about Valentine's Day....

Talked to my friend Angie today. I haven't spoken to hear since I moved to Northern Ireland. She lives just around the corner from my parents' house and I've only gotten hold of her today. Her wedding plans are set in motion, and I am to get measured by the dress shop during my time here. The bridesmaids dresses will probably be red, which is awesome, 'cause that's the color I wanted for my wedding dress, so I told Angie I'll just use this dress. Mmmhmm. Now all I need is a city permit to get married at Buckingham Fountain and a groom.

My brother, Adam, and his girlfriend, Becky, got me a $100 gift card from Borders. I went and spent all but $17 of it the other day. I got two CDs - Tracy Chapman, Collection and the Amelie Soundtrack. I got a Lonely Planet Scotland guide and Mom got a book she's been wanting for at least a year, since my aunt recommended it to her. So now I have just enough to go back and have some coffee. Yumm.

Last night, me and the fam went out to dinner at Cracker Barrel. I had the much loved french toast with maple syrup. Mmmm. There's only one place I know of in Belfast where I can get french toast served that way. It's typically not eaten as a sweet dish there. The meal ended with chocolate cobblers almost all around. I didn't realize until after the server left that I was supposed to order one even if I didn't want it so that everyone could have some of mine. Doh!

I spoke to my friend Diana the other day. We used to live in the co-op together. She's still there and was filling me in on all the scoop, but mostly we talked about traveling. She said that everything seemed to be going well for me and congratulated me on what I've done in the past year. It kind of took me back a bit, b/c I feel like I'm always getting slack for the way I'm choosing to live my life, even if it's just for this short period of time. Jason and Ronan wind me up about not having any money and not having a "proper job" and my brothers and Dad get on me about being poor and my Mom just keeps her thoughts to herself these days. The point being, that b/c of that conversation with Diana, I thought, "yeah, everything is going well." And it was nice to not have to defend my actions for once in my life!

Well, little Licorice is stinky as ever as he sits here at my feet chewing on his chew toy thingie. I get hives wherever he licks me and have started showing other symptoms of allergies. He's now not allowed upstairs in my room and I no longer pet him with my hand, I use my foot! Hey, he likes it just the same. There's a humidifier in my room as well which helps a lot. I offered to go home early, but Mom surprised me by saying she'd rather have me here than the dog. Well, the dog is still here, bless his soul.

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

This article from the Onion is so funny, because we have been begging work for a new mop head, and I can imagine we will have the same reaction if we ever get it!
Home is where the heart is. Which is why this is the place where you can have yours ripped out from your chest.

So here I am, back in good ol' Hammond, Indiana. And of course, I'm overstating things a bit with the above sentence. It's just that after I'm here for about a day, I remember so clearly why I moved away from here, and I'm sure my Mom remembers why she was so glad I left.

Monday, December 22, 2003

Hmm...Monday. Today we didn't have any children or groups. We won't have those again until after the New Year. We started off the morning by putting grit around and down the mountain road. Oh yes, let me back up and tell you about last night.

Last night was lovely. We went with our next door neighbor, Christopher, to Belfast Super Bowl, where I educated the guy behind the counter about how your shoe size is the length from the inside of your elbow to your wrist. Mmmhmm. He'll carry that with him forever now. I'm just about spreading the love. So, bowling was cool. We had some Coke, some chocolate, bowled a bit and watched as the people a couple lanes down got their ball stuck in the gutter (it just stopped rolling) and then got four more balls stuck there trying to get that one out. Didn't they see that coming? I mean, really. Anyhow, the guy I mentioned earlier had to come and walk down the alley to kick the balls back up to them. Heh, he kicked their balls...

Anyhow, after bowling, we went to Pizza Hut, where we delved into the Big New Yorker Pizza, pepsis all around, and even do it yourself sundaes. Yummy. It was really nice. While we were tintillating our tastebuds, we noticed that it was snowing outside. Aww, it looks so pretty, we said, as we sat in the warm and dry restaurant.

Nice and full, we find our way back to the van and head back towards the mountain. All except the driver sit at the back of the bus to keep weight back there to reduce the risk of spinning out, or something like that. All is fine and dandy until we get to the mountain. We tried in vain to make any headway in the bus. It just went in every direction except the one we wanted. We parked it and started hiking up the mountain. There were kids out sledding down the street. It was actually difficult to even walk on. Christopher phones up to the mountain and we find out that the other side has been salted, so we go back to the bus and make our way around there. Another go, another stop. We park again and make our way this side of the mountain. No people here, folks. Anyhow, long story short, we walked up most of the way and a helpful mountaineer gave us a lift the rest of the way.

Getting back to the point, this morning, we all put grit on the road and now it is just fine and dandy. We had to get the buses through because we were delivering hampers (packages of food) and gifts to our families. I went and picked up my medicine and dropped off some film at the chemist, Peter picked up his girlfriend from the bus station and Eva and Suz are out shopping for presents.

Ronan phoned me today. He is in Florida on holiday with his family (all twelve of them - it's extended fam as well). He told me the ridiculous things he had to do at the security checkpoints and it's making me a bit more nervous about my flight to Chicago on Wednesday. Ah well, it'll all be worth it when I get there.

He also told me that it is 71 degrees there in Orlando. Somehow I don't think that will be the temperature in Chicago....
I tell you how I feel
but you don’t care
I say tell me the truth
but you don’t dare

You say love is a hell you can not bear
I say give me mine back
and then go there
for all I care

I got my feet on the ground and I don’t go to sleep to dream
You got your head in the clouds
and you’re not at all what you seem
This mind, this body and this voice cannot be stifled
by your deviant ways

So don’t forget what I told you
Don’t come around
I’ve got my own hell to raise

I have never been so insulted in all my life
I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride
first you run like a fool just to be at my side
and now you run like a fool but you just run to hide and I can’t abide

I got my feet on the ground and I don’t go to sleep to dream
You got your head in the clouds
and you’re not at all what you seem
This mind, this body and this voice cannot be stifled
by your deviant ways

So don’t forget what I told you
Don’t come around
I’ve got my own hell to raise

Don’t make it a big deal
Don’t be so sensitive
We’re not playing a game anymore
You don’t have to be so defensive

Don’t you plead me your case
Don’t bother to explain
Don’t even show me your face
‘cause it’s a crying shame
just go back to the rock
from under which you came
take the sorrow you gave
and all the stakes you claim…

and don’t forget the blame

I got my feet on the ground and I don’t go to sleep to dream
You got your head in the clouds
and you’re not at all what you seem
This mind, this body and this voice cannot be stifled
by your deviant ways

So don’t forget what I told you
Don’t come around
I’ve got my own hell to raise

Fiona Apple, Sleep to Dream

Sunday, December 21, 2003

I was screaming in my sleep last night. I don’t remember what I said or of what I was dreaming, but I screamed on more than one occasion. I woke myself up doing this, in addition to waking Peter in the next room. I’m never in a good place when I end up screaming in my sleep. I’ve been a bit emotional lately with all the changes in relationships, work and here at the house. I guess that’s what it’s about.

I dreamt that Jason told me he loved me. This is in direct connection with me almost telling him I loved him on Friday and him stopping me, telling me not to say it, and practically running out of the room. In this dream, we were in the same situation, but he leaned over and whispered it in my ear. It was beautiful.

I also woke up in the night and wrote something down that I thought was very important. It had to do with God (being he or she) and the spirit within each of us. I’ll have to have a look at it and see if makes any sense to me now.

We were up until 3:30 a.m. last night. Well, that’s when I went to bed anyways. It’s our last weekend together as a group, so we were just having a laugh, a chat, and remiiniscing a bit. Good fun. Oh and it snowed last night. Didn’t last long, though, before it turned to rain. It was pretty while it lasted, though.

Tonight we are going bowling with Christopher, our next door neighbor, and then out for some pizza. Should be good fun. Christopher reminds me so much of my brother, Adam, when he was that age (14). It’s nice to have him around.

I just sent off my Christmas cards. They’ll be late, alright, but they’ll be there, and that’s what matters to me! During my shopping trip yesterday, the most expensive things I bought were the stamps and my photos. Crazy.

I went to the Belfast Youth Hostel yesterday. It is really nice in there. I was waiting around for Jason to get back from his shopping so we could hang out, so I was trying to keep myself occupied. It is quite nice, indeed, and they do the Giant’s Causeway tour on Sundays as well. I had considered doing it today, but after what I spent yesterday and adding up my phone bill, I realized that I couldn’t afford it! I’ll make it to Giant’s Causeway one day!

In the end, I gave up on waiting for Jason and just took a taxi home. He phoned me and said he was going to a poker game later that evening, which found its way into my dreams. I dreamt I was at the table in that poker game and the stakes were high. I had a lot of money in front of me. The cards were not normal playing cards, but pictures of women. I didn’t know exactly how it all went, but my partner, who was quite experienced and serious about this (also whom I didn’t know) warned me to not say anything and to definitely not show my hand (yet). In the end, I won, but I wasn’t sure how and I didn’t know what I had won.

Saturday, December 20, 2003

Christmas shopping! Yippee! Nothing puts me in the spirit more than spending money on the most important people in my life, beginning with myself! I bought a skirt to wear on New Year’s Eve, a top I may or may not wear with it, a ring, earrings, oh and stuff for other people, too! ;-)

Peter is our own St. Nicholas up here on the mountain. He put up Christmas decorations earlier in the week and just finished decorating our tree and starting a fire for us here in the living room. (In the fireplace, of course!)

I also finally got some stamps and air mail stickers to send my Christmas cards. Sure, they’ll be late, but they’ll just stretch out that Christmas joy.

I got two rolls of film developed today. They cost a bloody fortune b/c I got them one hour, but if I had done it any other way, I may not have gotten them before I go home. Anyhow, a mix of photos from here at the Cottage, my summer in England and my parents’ house in Hammond.

Of course I’ve learned a lot from my work here in Belfast, but I also learn about other cultures and practices from my roommates. For example, I learned that December 6th is St. Nikolaus day. People put their boots outside their bedroom door and St. Nikolaus come around and puts small gifts in them. St. Nikolaus also has a sidekick called Knecht Rupreche who beats the children who were bad this year. So, on the 6th you get some small presents. Eva’s mum sent her a package for this holiday that was filled with chocolates. Yummy.

Oh and Happy Hannukah to everyone. May all have a good night.

Friday, December 19, 2003

THE PROMISE, Tracy Chapman

If you wait for me
then I'll come for you
Although I've traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart


If you think of me
If you miss me once in awhile
Then I'll return to you
I'll return and fill that space in your heart


Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting


If you dream of me
L like I dream of you
In a place that's warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart


Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting


I've longed for you
A and I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are


Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
Please say you'll be waiting


Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise
If it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you
If you wait for me


And say you'll hold
A place for me
I in your heart.

Thursday, December 18, 2003

Santa came to visit...and the children cried.

To be more accurate, the children screamed in terror and clutched their mothers for dear life.

Why, oh why, do we do this to our kids?

There were happy moments, though. This one wee baby, who was all dolled up for the occassion was all smiles for Santa and such a ham for all the cameras. So cute. And then the children started to come around and we all laughed and clapped and had good fun. And by we, I mean the adults. The other day my co-worker and I were talking about how Christmas is for the children and how Christmas is no fun without them. But that's exactly it, isn't it? It's no fun for us, the adults, without children there. We spend so much time and money to make Christmas "perfect" for the wee ones, but they would often be happy enough to just play with the box!

Monday, December 15, 2003

I get a lot of ideas from television.

This may seem a bit odd, but I learned a lot about how to act in all types of relationships based on what I have seen on TV. For example, when I was in my first 'real' relationship when I was a teenager, I slapped my boyfriend across the face because that is what I had seen done over and over again to a man who had said something inappropriate or hurtful. Mostly this was in soap operas, but I'm sure you can see what I mean.

I had no idea how I was supposed to act in this relationship. It was my first. I couldn't exactly base it on my Mom and Dad b/c they were just way too old, right? So, TV it was.

Because TV had also shown a good amount of accepted violence towards women, I accepted that as normal as well. When my Mom gasped at the sight of marks on my arms from my boyfriend picking me up and shaking me, I couldn't understand what the big deal was. I'll never forget the clarification in my head when she asked, "what if you saw your Dad doing that to me?" I knew then that it was not right, that it would never be right under any circumstances.

Since then, I have scaled back my television viewing. I didn't even own a television for the past few years. Recently, though, I've caught some shows here in there as I walk into the living room and the TV just happens to be on. I've again started getting ideas. Today, for example, I watched the show 'Bachelor's Walk'. After a woman's weekend trip to Paris with her boss, the man discloses that he kissed another woman while she was away. She, in turn, confesses that she slept with her boss. The man goes ballistic, and after much crying, talking and fighting, he comes up with a solution. They break up for awhile - six months. He can get over this and not torture her and then they can spend the rest of their lives happily ever after. The show then shows four months later, and it seems like this plan will work! It's actually not the only time I've seen this plan done on TV. Though, the other time it was on a documentary.

Anyhow, I got to thinking about me and Ronan. For those who don't know, I kissed Jason when I was with Ronan. He was mad, but forgave me. However, he didn't really get over it which ultimately led to the end of our relationship. Now if this 'break' plan works for the folks on TV, could it work for us? Six months from now will Ronan come and sweep me off my feet all over again? What do you think?

Well, I guess it has a better chance of working than us slapping each other. :-)

Sunday, December 14, 2003

I'll be home for Christmas.

December 24th at about 6:45 p.m. my plane should be landing in Chicago. So many things I want to do, so many people I want to see. Yet, somehow, I have mixed feelings about returning home, even for just a short holiday visit. I'm very excited about seeing my family, shopping at thrift stores with Mom, meeting the new pup, Licorice.

The two lives are so different from one another, it forms such a juxtaposition that it seems difficult to reconcile them as both being my own. It’s like parallel universes. There is always an adjustment period when I settle in somewhere, whether it be Hammond, Chicago, London or Belfast. I’ve just never flown home (meaning Hammond, where my parents live) from across the pond for a short visit. I feel like I might become a bit confused. Lately, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I think that I am back in my old room in Hammond and that Mom and Brian are just downstairs. I have to take a look around, think about the position of my bed and the room around me and after a minute, I realize where I am and what I’m doing there. It is a bit disconcerting at times, though at others times it can be a treat, like a short visit home without ever leaving my bed.

So, as the date of visit draws near, confusion and concern is being replaced with happiness and excitement. I am growing more comfortable with the idea and am looking forward to doing the things I enjoy in Hammond, like seeing my family, of course, thrift shopping with Mom (that includes the Dollar Store!), having an abundance of casual dining restaurants where friends can chat for extended periods of time, knowing the streets around me, having memories at every turn, seeing people who have known me since I was 11 years old. These things are the parts I will enjoy during a short visit. Sometimes, those latter things are what makes me not want to be in Hammond, but for a visit, it’s alright.

I’m also excited to hit the ground running in starting a non profit in Hammond. I have people to talk to, information to find out, places to see, plans to make.

Hammond is a part of me, a part of my life. It does not define me, though, so I no longer feel the need to shun it. I may not choose to live there, but at this point in my life I have not chosen to live anywhere for any significant length of time. I guess this means I have no choice but to learn to get used to juxtapositions, change and moving around.
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I'm still working on the following post, but if you have any relevant links or information in the meantime, please let me know - sabrighta@aol.com I'm especially looking for that research study that interviewed sex offenders in prison, showed them video of various women walking in the streets and asked which would they more likely attack. Instead of choosing the stereotypical women in miniskirt, they chose the more plain women who walked without much confidence. I read the study, but I can't remember who ran it.
http://www.austdvclearinghouse.unsw.edu.au/Conference%20papers/Exp-horiz/Jordan.pdf
Women are seen as dangerous and must be covered up lest they evoke improper or uncontrollable impulses in men. Is this why a woman wearing a miniskirt walking alone at night is seen as 'asking for it' if she is attacked? She's showing her body, she's out at night, by herself, this presents any man with such an overpowering urge that he couldn't possibly be expected to be held responsible for it. That is the belief.

In the Indian film, Fire, a man tests his commitment to God by the temptation of having sex with his wife.

The Muslim religion requires that a woman cover her head with a scarf.

Monday, December 08, 2003

Today it has been 21 years since MoMo, (my maternal Grandmother), died. She was 41. My mother sometimes tells me that I’m like her, especially in regards to my travels. She was a free spirit, indeed, but I wonder how much of the other traits of her I have. She had bouts of depression and was in several abusive relationships. From what I hear, she really lacked stability of any sort. My mother would come home from her friend’s house only to find that her mom had moved to another apartment. People may tell me I have “issues” when I explain that I do certain things because of something in my past, or that I don’t want to do something because it might make me anxious or depressed, but I really think that everyone has their own “issues”, and I just know what mine are. I know what I have to do or not do to keep myself mentally balanced. I see no problem with that. Maybe if MoMo had known, maybe if there were the right medications back then, maybe we would’ve been even more alike.

Every now and again, especially if I’m going through a hard time, I feel her presence. I really feel like she helps to guide me. Maybe now she is able to help me keep my free spirit positive. Or maybe I’ve just learned from her mistakes, and her accomplishments.

The last time I saw her, she was in the hospital. I was only a child, but somehow I knew that this would be the last time I would see her. I cried and cried when it was time to leave.

She was so young when she died, but she did live quite a life. Just looking at the photos of where she’s been and what she’s done has made me come to that conclusion. Four children and five granchildren (at the time of her passing). That alone is quite a legacy. But I am very sure that she came across so many people and left such a mark on their lives that she will not soon be forgotten.

Martha Jo, thank you.

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

I don’t want to be the crying girl at the bus station ever again.

When I was in college, I used to take the Greyhound bus whenever I would go home for visits. One of the staples of a Greyhound bus station is the crying girl. The crying girl has come to visit her boyfriend and has, in turn, been dumped by him. Said boyfriend, with an obligingly sorry/guilty look on his face, dutifully drops her back at the bus station to send her on her way.

I always noticed crying girl and I always thought about how working class the whole situation was. While bus travel on this side of the ocean doesn’t seem to carry the same stigma, in America it really is the lowest of the low.

So, when I decided to be a good girlfriend back in December of 2000 and take the bus down to Kokomo, Indiana (to save him the drive there and back) to visit my college boyfriend, I really didn’t expect that in a few short days, I, too, would fill the post of crying girl. I never anticipated that he would dump me on New Year’s Eve and send me off on the next bus home.

Three years later, having finished college, started a career and moved to another country, I hadn’t thought about crying girl in a long time.

I moved to Belfast, met a wonderful man, fell in love, and looked forward to every weekend when we would meet again. At first, he drove to Belfast each week. Then, I took the bus to Derry. I met his family: parents, sister, daughter. I also met his friends. We had a great time and planned to meet in Derry again the following weekend.

I never saw the crying girl coming.

The next weekend, (as in this weekend), I was all geared up to spend the night with him and his daughter. It was the first time he was caring for her overnight on his own. Things did not start off well, as he told me at the last minute that I could not come because his mother was not comfortable with me staying the night there (he lives with his parents) while his parents were away (they were going out of town) and he was not able to arrange for other accommodation for me (presumably at one of his friends’ houses). He was annoyed at my annoyance and hung up on me after saying that I didn’t “have to be so cheeky about it”. After I got over my intial perturbed state, I remembered how important this evening was for him and how much I really wanted to be a part of it. I phoned him back and told him of my plan to help with the baby, and once she was asleep, go sleep at a local hostel. After he agreed with this plan, I hurriedly prepared for my journey. After two and a half hours on the bus, I arrive. He and his friend, Connor, meet me at the bus station and when I remind Ronan that we have to swing by the hostel so I can pick up my key, he informs me the plan has changed. He doesn’t specify what the plan is, but I later found it is to just disobey mum and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Whatever. This puts me in the precarious position of having to lie to his parents, but more about that some other time.

His daughter arrives and is in quite a state because she had shots in both of her arms earlier in the day and she also had a cold. He, his sister, and her friends all have tries at calming her, but to no avail. I eventually get her to sleep after much ado. As she is only a wee baby, she wakes up in the middle of the night, and after a change and a feed, I get her to sleep again. He thanks me for my help and says he doesn’t know what he would’ve done without me there. A few short hours later, the baby awakes again, same process repeat. A few hours after that, she goes home to her mum’s. A couple hours later, he dumps me.

What happened? Well, I ask myself the same question even now. Here is a run down of what happened after the baby went home.

We are laying on his bed watching television. I ask what we are going to do today. He wants to watch four hours of pre-game football coverage followed by the match itself, which he’s actually not sure is televised. I’m happy enough to stay in and watch football with him all day.

Then his friend, Stephen, calls. It is Stephen’s birthday. Ronan forgot. They are to go out that evening, as they do every year. No girls allowed.

What am I going to do?, Ronan asks me. I say that I’m happy enough to stay at his place while he goes out (departing at an early 6:00 p.m., I might add). No, not a possibility because the parents won’t allow it. Okay, I say, well, I’ll actually stay at the hostel tonight and see the sights of Derry while he’s away. Nope, he doesn’t want me to do that, either. OOOOOkay, well that kind of limits the options, doesn’t it? I guess I’ll just have to go back home to Belfast. It is maybe 1:00 p.m. at this point and I arrived at 7:30 p.m. the night before, spending the whole night taking care of his daughter. I am, admittedly, annoyed. He is upset that I’m annoyed and this spirals into he doesn’t think we should be together because a.) we fight too much b.) I’m too clingy (he “couldn’t be arsed” to explain which of my actions would be defined as clingy).

Well, his decision made, I have no choice but to ask for a lift back to the bus station and once again take on the role of crying girl.

This time, though, I didn’t resent the role. I kept thinking of that song, The Rose, which says the heart afraid of breaking never gets to love (or something like that). I gave my all, he didn’t want it, end of story. I accepted this more and more as I waited for the bus, on the long journey home, and as I made my way home from the bus station in Belfast. The crying ceased. I accepted it was over.

Less than an hour after I arrive home, Ronan phones. He says he was an idiot, he’s sorry, he made a mistake and he’d like to rectify that mistake. I say I’m not sure. He says I can think about it and he’ll phone me tomorrow (which is today).

Today on the phone, he is very short, curt and guarded. My questions annoy him. He hangs up on me. (he later said his battery died). The actions of someone who wants to get back together? Not likely. I have no idea what changed his mind or even what made him decide to end the relationship in the first place. He said he couldn’t explain. He said I was overanalyzing and then his battery died.

Somehow, despite my not accepting his apology and not taking him back, he has managed to dump me again. Wow, now that is indeed impressive.

So he phoned again, said now he’s not sure. I said I can’t take this. He said then I know what I need to do. I explain, no, it’s the up and down that I can’t take. He has to go, he’ll call me later. So again, I wait.

Now, if this does indeed come to an end, I will have to go through the emotions over again. I will have to start all over. Once again, I will be the crying girl

Monday, December 01, 2003

“Consider yourself forgiven.”

These words should have made me so happy. Should have been such a relief. Everything I wanted. Yet, I still felt….uncertain.

Through a whole lot of talking and thinking I’ve realized why.

I find it difficult to accept that someone will love me just for the sake of being me. I’m used to trying to help people overcome some huge emotional scar and then they are grateful to me and I feel deserving of their affection. With Ronan, however, there is no big obstacle, nothing for me to fix. He just loves me for me. Plain and simple. It’s almost too easy, it seems.

So even after my destructive act to our relationship, he loves me. I thought it would be over, no questions asked. I could more easily handle him being rightfully angry at me and trying to start over from scratch than him forgiving me the same night I cheated on him. I was prepared to face so much drama and hardship, and that was somehow comforting to me. To have it resolved so quickly, with very little ‘hardship’ seemed a bit disconcerting. Where was the drama? I hadn’t yet earned back his love or trust.

I’m glad that I’ve realized that I do deserve to be happy and that I SHOULD be loved just for the sake of being me. Uncertain no more, I’m looking forward to what the future holds.