Something to Mull Over

Last night, I had a dream that I met a person was defending his house.  It was really just a small house with only a few rooms, and it was pretty old but it was a house.  Anyway, these people were attacking the man and he was fending them off.  He was already quite bruised and bleeding from the fight and as it went on, he fell more often and it took him longer to get up.  Then, finally, he put his hands up and called defeat.  The attackers took him at his word that he would leave and I ran over to help him up.  He thanked me for helping him and then I asked him why he gave up.  He told me, "What I was defending was not the worth the price I was paying to defend it."  He then showed me the house - there was nothing in it, no one he was protecting from the defenders.  Sure, it's a house and that's a place to live and sure, it's land but when it came to losing his life over this empty building, he chose his life.  I promised myself I would remember his words and think about them once I woke up.  So I did.

The Days We Never Saw the Sun

Last night, I had the weirdest dream.  Everyone I knew was living on a series of rocks - let's call them planets.  There we were, speeding through the universe in a fleet of tiny floating islands.

It looked kind of like this: 

 Image from nasa.gov

Sounds adventurous, right?  I spent most of my time in my bathrobe and pajamas eating food in some cafeteria while people came to visit me and tell me how fabulous their lives were and what new islands they had discovered.

 Finally, someone told me I needed to get myself off the big rock.  I looked out at the fleet of still unexplored islands and said, "I miss the sun."

It seems that we were floating in some big orbit but we were behind some really big rock that blocked us from the sun permanently.

Everyone laughed at me.  "Erin, what a silly thing to say!  Our new lives are so exciting.  Why would you miss something as silly as that?"

But I looked out at the dark, gray, rocks without any kind of growth on them and my heart hurt.  So, I continued to sit in my bathrobe, eating bowls of rice while people came and told me of their adventures.  The people who traveled the furthest out before returning to tell me of their tales got more of my attention.

"Is there an island that I can see earthrise?"  I asked, somewhat hopefully.  They all shrugged.

 Image taken by Apollo 8 Crew, 1968.  Image from nasa.gov

Somehow the hope of seeing earthrise at least was enough for me to venture back into normal life.  I got ready to go and packed my bags and asked how I could get to the farthest island.  My friends were excited to see me taking some steps for myself but when I told them I was going out there to see if I could see the sun or the earth, they stuck me on a tour bus/spacecraft instead.  The tour gave you a fun view of all the islands and stopped several times to laugh at the absurdity of a place with trees and grass.

Their laughs just hurt me more though.  I was homesick and I just wanted to go back.

But for some reason, we couldn't go back and so my friends kept trying to convince me it was for the best.

It was a very sad dream.

I woke up, grateful for the sun and the earth in ways I never thought about before.  Funny, huh?

How to Train Your Subconcious

I've been having some back pain for a while now - right between the shoulder blades on my spine.  It seems the way I sleep at night is affecting that.  "You need to stop sleeping curled up like that," I've been told.  But how do you convince your unconscious self to stop sleeping the way that it has your entire life?

Here's the answer: get kicked in the shins HARD.

Yesterday, while playing for my intramural soccer team, I got a swift hard that hurt enough that I immediately subbed out and had to go walk off the pain for a while.  When I got home, I iced the wound and a friend advised me to sleep with my leg elevated to help alleviate pressure on the large knot on my shin.  It was a bit of challenge to try to find a comfortable way to sleep with the reminder that I can't sleep a certain way to avoid pain in my back but also with my leg elevated.

The result was this:

I had a dream in which I talked with a friend about my sleeping habits and my back pain.  She told me that the way I slept signified how I felt about the way that I was living my life.  The fact that I slept curled up (and subsequently felt back pain) was due to the fact that I was feeling restricted in my life.  If I wanted to alleviate the back pain and the cramped way I was sleeping, I needed to allow myself to breathe and be more free in my awake life.  I needed to take time to "stop and smell the roses".  It was absolutely critical, she advised, to let go of the need to be in control of everything in my life and stop worrying about the consequences of every minor decision.  If I let myself "roll with the punches", I'd improve.  So I spent the rest of my dream trying to just enjoy life - I went on a walk and watched the sunset, I spent a quiet day out in nature in quiet thought, I watched some folk dancers.  And then when I went to sleep that night, I slept differently, and my back pain subsided.

Apparently, the thought of trying to keep my leg elevated was enough to convince my subconscious to analyze my sleeping habits and their causes while I was sleeping.  Funny thing is, my subconscious might be on to something.

Then again, this was my other dream last night:
I also dreamed that I was with a middle school friend and we were performing in a choir for some special game/announcement for Hasebe's team.  As we walked around in our soccer gear and I nervously asked her if she ever experienced butterflies before performances,  I also spent my time looking for Hasebe.  I spotted him at one point but he was too far away for me to talk.  And then, his coach came up to me and started asking me all sorts of questions about who I was, where I was from and asking questions about my church until I found myself giving him a copy of the Book of Mormon and sharing my thoughts/feelings about it. The entire time, during the dream, I kept wanting to call him Felix Magath but I knew it wasn't him.  It wasn't until I woke up and thought about it for a long, long time, that I realized that the person I had been talking to was indeed one of Hasebe's coaches - Steve McClaren, a former Wolfsburg coach.  The English accent should have tipped me off but didn't.

Burn Out

Dear Germany,

The weirdest things have been happening - you have been coming up more and more in my conversations.  It's not enough to drink hot cocoa - I have to compare it to yours.  I idly think about traveling distances and times on the trains.  I find myself craving German torte.  I wonder if I could learn how to make schnitzel.  I keep making plans about what I want to go and see and do when I see you.  I have to keep reminding myself that it's not last year - that I'm not going to see you soon.  I think it's safe to say I miss you.  When will I see you again?

Love,
Me


Dear Subconscious,

Last night's dream was an utter nightmare.  Sure, it was nice that someone decided my lab looked old and dilapidated and I appreciated the remodeling.  However, when I saw the result of remodeling was that my own lab was now strewn across several offices and that the equipment was rendered useless through the carelessness of hasty remodelers, I couldn't stop the tears from coming.  There I was, with some new secretary at her desk, gawking at me while I bawled my eyes out, helplessly aware that my PhD degree was getting pushed back indefinitely.  Thanks for the (unnecessary) reminder that so many things could still prevent me from getting my degree.  Some friend you are.

Love,
Me


Dear Semester,

How is it that I only have two weeks until Christmas and yet I still have a semester of work left to do?  I promise I've been working hard.  So where did all that effort disappear to?  I would beg you to slow down so I can get something done but I don't know if that will even help at this point.  I'm just going to keep going until I can't anymore...

Love,
Me


Dear はせべさん,

The fact that you take a picture of every meal you eat, that you played babysitter and peacemaker the entire North Korean game, that you showed the camera men that you enjoy reading books out on our balcony and sometimes, you even rest your feet up on the balcony's railing/ledge when you do so, that you always manage to walk around with your glasses perched up on your forehead - when I see these things, I think, "How your mother must love you!"  I think I was supposed to see a mature 27 year old in all of these things but instead, I kept seeing a little boy who is good and doing his best, but little boy nevertheless, with a vulnerable little heart and plaintive eyes.  So, why is it that this week, with pictures on your blog of you losing your sled halfway down the sled run, and pictures of you riding on the children's carousel by yourself twice -  that which would assure your ever-present boyishness - why do I feel instead that we are just the same age after all?

Love,
Me  

From Tumblr, AP Photo

From Tumblr

Faffing About

Last night, I had a dream about marriage.  I've had a number of dreams about marriage in the past 5 years and they never fail to entertain.  This one was equally interesting so I will share it here.

In this dream, I suddenly found myself in this very fluffy white lacy wedding dress.  You know the dress from My Big Fat Greek Wedding?  Yep, I think I was in that dress.  There was too much fluff and too much lace for my taste.  So, I'm sitting there in this slightly gregarious wedding dress, waiting very nervously for my groom, who is running late.  I'm nervous because I don't actually know who my groom is or what he looks like.  Someone comes up to me and says, "You need to fill out your marriage certificate."  I'm handed a form with lots of blanks.

I look over it and see the usual, expected information: Name, birthdate, birth place and parents for both the bride and groom.  I skip over the parts that I know - the information about me and my family - and immediately look at the big blank in the middle of the form where my future husband's name goes.  In a slight panic, I look up.

"I don't know my husband's name."

Someone pipes up.  (There are no faces in my dream, just voices and hands)  "Sure you do."

Me: <gulp> "Really?  I can't seem to remember it right now.  Could you remind me?"  (This is where my nervousness turns to panic because I'm wracking my brain for any sign that there is a man in my life and coming up absolutely blank)

Someone else laughs at me, "You don't remember your own groom's name?"

There I am, staring at this blank form while these girl voices all titter and giggle as though I'm pulling their leg with some clever joke.

Finally, someone takes pity on me and laughingly says, "Silly girl.  His name is Jacob."

I look up from the form with shock.  "Jacob?!  I would never marry a Jacob.  My brother's name is Jacob."  (This is true to a point.  I've never thought I would marry someone who has my brother's name, not because I'm prejudiced against Jacobs but because I don't want my brother Jacob to feel like second-place.  He's first place as far as Jacobs go.  I've kind of always felt this way.  It turns out one of my sisters feels the same way.)

The girls laugh.  "Well, his name is Jacob but you call him Jake."

I relent a little.  My brother HATES being called Jake.  I could be ok with marrying a Jake and leaving Jacob for my brother.  "Really?  I'm marrying a Jake?"

I look down at the form and see the name "JACOB" has been written on the form.  I start tracing back over the letters.  J A C O

I wake up.

Aren't people supposed to wake up before they find out the name of the person they are going to marry?

Weird dream, no?

Cat Nap

I fell asleep this afternoon and had a series of random dreams in quick succession.  They are fascinating but left me feeling like my subconscious had just taken me on a journey.

Dream 1: I was at church.  My friends and I (including Sarah from Alaska) had made a banquet of food for the other congregation that attends in the same building as us.  I kept asking Linds for her opinion on the food and Sarah too as we anxiously awaited for their church meetings to end so we could serve them dinner.  But as we went in to taste some of the food for appropriate spices, we discovered that people had been sneaking taste tests all during their meetings.  So, laughingly, we wondered if we should just end meetings early and sit down with both congregations together to eat in the bounty of food.

Dream 2: I was a family reunion.  It was a distant family member.  At one point my grandma mentioned that we were in, "Some cousin's kid's house" which just goes to show you how random it was that we were there.  They had this very large setup for all the many children they had that included a rather fun jungle gym type room.  Somehow, my entire family ventured up there.  (My oldest sister had to give me specific instructions to get onto the swinging platform and then she joined me up there as well)  There we were, perched on various little ledges and seats in this room, all of my siblings and my mother.  We were having an intelligent adult conversation (my brother was on his iPad and one of my sisters had a phone that folded out into a tablet as well) about our interactions with other people and how we have addressed specific cultural, political, and social differences only to find that we really all handled things in the same way.

Dream 3: I was in a professional restaurant kitchen where the chef and sous chef were barking out orders for the day's tasks.  They gave some special sauce assignment to a really cute, excited pregnant girl who immediately skipped over and started in.  I watched as she carefully put in all the ingredients into this very large pot and stirred and stirred and stirred.  Then with a shaking hand she took a spoon and tasted it very carefully. She pondered for a moment and then said, "It's missing something."

Cue the music.

No, really, my mind cued the first few notes and then continued to play out the song as I came into consciousness.  And I lay there, listening to this odd soundtrack in my head thinking, "Something is missing."

If only I could figure it out what ingredient is missing from my life.

Short and Sweet

I realized that I have a problem with being verbose.  I can talk on and on and on about something that should only take a few words to say.  Perhaps it's because it's because I haven't quite solidified my opinion.  Perhaps it's because I'm afraid to express an opinion.  Perhaps it's because my English struggles enough lately that I am still searching for the words to express my opinion in a way that would hopefully not be offensive to those who disagree.  (I am, after all and in spite of my best efforts, a people pleaser.)

So here's an exercise in brevity.

10 Words Or Less:

On Research:  Nothing significant yet - adviser pushing for graduation in June. 

On Femininity: I am who I am - and in everything still female.

On Wearing Makeup: It's still just me - I was hoping for something better. 

On Kpop: Sometimes it's so fake that it all just annoys me. 

On Super Junior: The sight of you makes me sick right now --- literally.

On Kdramas: Only your pretty cameras make you addicting - You're overly predictable.  

On Chinese (language): Recently, we've been close - let's stay that way.

On Japanese (language): Signing up for podcasts was a bad idea.

On Bundesliga: New season starts tomorrow - where can I watch games?

On Makoto Hasebe:  Google translate struggles, but at least awesomeness needs no translation. 

On Ward Choir: You take what I give and make it beautiful. 

On My Birthday: I am not ready to face it.  Time machine anyone?

On American Politics and the Economy:  I can't bear to watch but can't afford not to.

On Family:  Surprisingly, still surprised to discover how related we really are.

On Reading: Nothing quite feeding my soul lately - what am I missing?

On Marriage: It's a great idea - But how does one get there?

 

Jason Hakka: Short and sweet

 Alexis: The sweetest little shortie

Sleep Deprived

Dear Subconscious,

What happened last night?  I needed a good solid night's sleep, one that preferably would give me the energy and strength to go face my lab again.

Instead, who should appear but Steve Young, ready and eager to give tips to Makoto Hasebe about life after retiring from professional sports.  I spent the entire night (1) wondering why they were in my dreams (2) why they were using my dreams to discuss such a personally non-important issue and (3) following those two around in hopes of asking them why they were using my dreams to talk about such a topic.  But did I ever get to ask?  NO!  Because they flatly ignored my existence, as though I was invisible.  I played a minor, non-important character in my own dream!  

I woke up an hour before my alarm went off, not because I was refreshed and ready to face the world again, but because I was tired of trailing after them.   

Now I have to go and tackle research?

"You done me wrong", subconscious.  And I don't even have the time to give you a chance to redeem yourself.

Love,
Me

Half thoughts

Dear Makoto,

I'm not sure why my first conscious thought these past few days always includes you.  On Sunday morning it was, "I need to go vote for Makoto to win MVP from Singapore"* and this morning it was, "Makoto can't waste away his best playing days sitting the bench."

I blame your poster/calendar.

Love,
Me
* I can't claim that it was a coherent thought even if it was a conscious one

Dear Steve McClaren,

Sure, I was upset that you didn't put Mako-chan in the game on Saturday.  And I bemoaned your decision-making all weekend.  But I never expected you to get sacked.

I'm wishing I never thought anything even close to negative about you.  Good luck.

Love,
Me


Dear Kato,

You know I love you right?  Turning on your check engine light only a week after getting you out of the shop is a little much.  But three months in a row???

In this relationship, why do you get to be the one who is "high maintenance"?

Love,
Me


Dear Lab,

Let's pretend that you love me.  And that you really want to work.  And give me good results.  So that I can stop getting angry in Chinese and cease throwing ice on the nice trees outside.

Think of it as an early birthday present.

Love,
Me


Dear Sub-conscious,

Sleeping these past few days has been exhausting.  Could we try a plot line that doesn't involve me getting chased and hunted down?

At this point, I might even accept folding socks.

Love,
Me


Dear Life,

Since all of my career plans from the past 29 1/2 years have failed to come to fruition, I am now opening the floor to suggestions.

Accepting: open doors or windows of opportunity.

Love,
Me

Once upon a Dream

Dear Sub-conscious,

Well played, friend.  West Side Story meets Buttercream Gang?  What more could a girl ask for than to have a dream where she has a run-in with a rough and tumble gang whose leader takes her side and serves as her protector?  The rest of the gang penitently following hoping to gain the leader's forgiveness as we marched through the streets was a nice touch.  But your timing in having the entire gang dance a hip hop dance number in unison in the streets and finish just before the alarm went off was absolute perfection.  This might make up for the previous sock folding blunders.

Love,
Me

What Dreams are Made Of?

Dear Subconscious,

I know that you don't like to make up fantastical things - I don't ever remember being able to fly or jump over buildings in my dreams.  And conversations with people are usually pretty true to their real character.  But despite that, I didn't have much reason to complain.  You did give me that dream where the prophet told me I had to get married by the end of the day and I spent my time running around talking with all the guys I knew and trying to figure out if I could marry any of them.  And then there was the dream where I lived a Mission: Impossible type dream where I was being chased by men in risk of losing my life and found that my mole had been my 'loyal' chauffeur who terrified me by pulling a gun on me when I thought I was finally free.  Of course there was that winner dream where I was sister to SJ's  Ki Bum and he had to come save me from the crowds of some big city by riding on the back of his motorcycle because  I was the 14th member of the band and I needed to get to the concert in time.  Of course as the 14th member of a boy band that meant that I needed to pretend I was a boy so I spent the rest of the dream trying to find a way to dress in the women's restroom without letting any of the fans know that I was a girl...I don't think I ever made it to the concert.  Do you know how many 13 year old girls need to use the restroom before a concert?  But still I didn't complain.  Those dreams were all fascinating in their own way.  Where do you come up with this stuff?  I always wondered.

But lately, you have been letting me down.  Now granted it was entertaining a few weeks ago, when I dreamed that I was going to be late for my job at Gap and I asked my roommate to give me a ride but she refused.  I was really upset that I was going to be so late until I remembered that I didn't actually HAVE a job at Gap and woke up to go to my real job at the ARL.  (Is it possible you actually WANT a job at the Gap over rocket science glory?)

But today takes the cake!  There I was, in my dream of course, opening up my wardrobe to grab a pair of socks to wear to work and I found the missing sock to a pair and I was thrilled because in my previous dream I HAD BEEN FOLDING SOCKS AND FOUND ONE SOCK MISSING.  Really?! That's what I do in my dreams?  I FOLD SOCKS?!!

Disgruntled doesn't even begin to describe it.

Love,
Me

I apparently don't have a lot of pictures of beds or sleeping.  And I don't think I have ANY pictures of me folding socks.  Who does that?

My wonderful bed in Taroko, Taiwan

My wonderful bed in Taipei, Taiwan