A country determines a lot. It determines my lifestyle and the clothes I wear. The food I eat and the people I speak too. It makes me feel confident about myself or it doesn’t.
A few days ago I went to a gathering of about 30 people from my highschool. I spoke to all but four of them. I hugged all but four of them.
I felt confidence streaming out of my eyelids as I made contact with each one. I haven’t seen that part of me in years. I thought I had lost that.
It was there in front of me before I even realized what was going on.
Here I was, confronting others and stepping into there circle to join the conversation and to point out the silly things in life and the fact that I was now home for two months.
That part of me hasn’t been used in awhile and it felt good to get it back.
I didn’t really know it was gone or temporarily out of order, I just have had this sense of missage. That I was lacking something.
Over in Thailand, I don’t step into circles and speak as rapidily as I do here. I don’t fall into a zone and wipe the corners down.
It is a part of me I am proud of. I like it. It is part of me that I know people enjoy. They smile at it. At my quirked movements and expressions. There is an underlying shyness to how I speak and I’ve been told it’s cute. I don’t mean for it to be there, it’s just my past laced in throughout how I converse.
It is actually a large part of how I took on the years between 18 and 21. And those years have been of the greatest. I wonder how I do it. Go without utilizing it in Thailand. How I can be as happy without it.
I guess it comes down to the man I am with and the baby I have and how those excude a different type of greatness. I interact as a husband and as a mother and I admit, that in those positions I have yet to find the confidence I boast of in my interaction with English speaking people.
I do believe, one day I will.
And I will let you know.
Just letting everyone know I made it back to my homeland in one piece.
Baby, Mom and all. The first 5 hour flight went well-Zeek slept the whole way.
Weren’t in Korea too long-enough time to feed him and let him roam the floor for 45 minutes. Talk about a dirty kid.
The 13 hour flight went by. I didn’t sleep well-held on to Z the entire times he slept. Hostesses were nice enough. Only had a little fussy time when he was tired but wouldn’t sleep. Overall an 8 outta 10 flight.
Canada feels amazing. It always does.
The english language seeps into my bones so good. Like a rush. Made me cry as I was exiting the airplane. The sky seems bluer, the air more crisp and people driving, I can actually see. The windows aren’t deeply tinted like they usually are in Thailand.
Everything is more clean and neat. The wires, the roads.. The fields are amazing. Corn. I haven’t seen in years. Stands up tall.
The grass is green and soft. The trees are tall and healthy.
My eyes are puffy but I am overwhelemingly happy to be here.
I said I wanted to get from 122 to 117? Have done it. Quite easily somehow. 114lb now.
I only ate when I was hungry. Which wasn’t often because I have been drinking gallons of water a day. I snacked. I didn’t have meals. I didn’t even work out. Well, some might consider lugging around a 21 pound baby a weight routine.
I thought about taking photos but that didn’t manifest into anything physical besides a mention in my post.
We are off to Canada in 17 hours with a short stop in Korea.
Yes I am afraid. Yes I am a bit stressed. Yes I am going on fumes.
I love flying. And I will try and be relaxed and let things happen the way they are going to.
But I will be happy when my feet land on Canadian soil!
So many words and ideas and thoughts go screeching through my head. They go so fast that it is difficult to catch them.My mom arrives in two days. I have had my suitcase packed for five and we leave in six.
I don’t know if I’m emotionally ready. But then again I don’t know if I could be.
I tend to just collect as I go and gain enough momentum to carry me through.
There are pieces scattered about my husband and I, but I do not have the energy or the time to focus on them. I am looking to the horizon, Canada being my sunset and my break.
I am hoping that the carpet of my home land will envelope me in comfort that I can send back with me here, when I come. Comfort that allows me to lock the house up and walk down to catch a taxi. A taxi to a play place where Zeek can play and I can interact with other mothers.
I have stuck myself inside the home for weeks because the idea of leaving the house, is work.
And that may be okay for a little while, but in the end, it doesn’t do any good for anyone.
I get frustrated with my husband and feel lonely even though I won’t admit it and Zeek suffers because of it.
I am waiting for Canada to smooth us down. It is my way out and I look towards it like its the cure of all diseases. It’s hazardous a bit.. But it’s all I have the energy to do right now.
I awoke at four this morning and turned like a tossed salad till six fifteen.
My eyes felt wooden and balloony all together.
My zipper on my shorts is down. It’s just down. It always falls down. So I just wear them like this. You can’t see anything. And I wonder if a famous person wore pants with the zip undone, if people would start doing it.
I watched this live thingy, where teen girls were shown pictures of Justin biebers ‘newest’ tattoo. Not really his tattos and they were ridiculously awful tattoos. Or they were told bad things about him. Like he had ran over an old lady because she was too slow crossing the street. And they said, ‘yeah. That’s ok. Because he’s Justin Bieber. And he probably had to get somewhere fast.’ Anything to justify his actions. Even if it was just ” he’s Justin Bieber,.”
Something seems a little wrong with that but. What do you do. Guess in my case, I just make sure my baby dude doesn’t turn out like that. Beebs or the ‘justificators’ .
Shadow of large long branch on beige wall. Moving because that’s the moves of the century. Moving because that’s the way to feel the world.
And conversation with parents voices. In my headphone ears. One was in Canada. And the other in Brazil. And there I sat in Thailand, on a wooden bench with bats winging around my head.
Special feelings are ones where only certain people or things can make happen. They can be small. Like shadows on walls. Or big. Like family.
They can be big like culture. Culture doesnt fit in my head. It comes bustin out of my ears and I write about it like I’m reliving it and all those feelings comes swimming over. Easily.
Small things that poke your mind and feels good. A connection. Within yourself. Like you’re the one laughing at your own joke. The joke you told inside your head. Because her hands massaging my face, smelled like a bubble bath I had years ago. Because that smell rolled up a memory and a frame of time I hadn’t thought of in years. And love gets to be both big and small. Because small things can happen and you connect it with love. And big things happen that we attach love to, too. Like proposing. I’ve never been proposed marriage before. But I’m married. And have been proposed hundreds of things.
And it is later than what it was earlier So that’s usually a good a sign as any To get into the clouds of Sleepville.