Author: erranteditor

The Scamp in Paris

Posted on by erranteditor

Bonjour de Paris! J’ai pris une semaine de congé et rencontré mes parents dans la ville de l’amour pour jouer au touriste et cracher au sommet de la Tour Eiffel.

And that took me a long time to figure out in French, so I am going to switch back to English. I’ve spent the last six days in France hanging out with the parental units and soaking up a little culture. While the parental units usually go for the guided tours, this trip we decided to do it on our own. My mom found a hotel, we made a list of things we wanted to see and then we dragged my dad around the city. It was a much needed trip, and a good chance to see my parents. It was the start of a beautiful tradition of traveling for Thanksgiving.

Paris. The capital, and most populated city in France and is home to the Eiffel Tower, the Mona Lisa and amazing wine and cheese. My mom and I had never been, but my dad spent a weekend there 40 years ago while he was in the Army and stationed in Germany. Armed with a Lonely Planet guide book, the GPS on my phone and my sense of adventure, we made the most of the 6 days we had together.

Highlights of the trip:

The Louvre

Perhaps the most famous museum in the world, the Louvre is now housed in what was once a fortress turned palace. The museum opened in 1793 and features works of art from Egypt, Greece, France, the Middle East, Britain and America. Highlights include Winged Victory (190 BC)

The Mona Lisa, which according to Wikipedia:

The painting, thought to be a portrait of Lisa Gherardini, the wife of Francesco del Giocondo, is in oil on a white Lombardy poplar panel, and is believed to have been painted between 1503 and 1506. Leonardo may have continued working on it as late as 1517. It was acquired by King Francis I of France and is now the property of the French Republic, on permanent display at the Louvre Museum in Paris since 1797.

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Liberty Leading the People

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and the Venus de Milo

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We spent Monday climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower, visiting the Arc de Triomphe and strolling down the famous The Avenue des Champs-Élysées. We wandered through a Christmas market, and I had the chance to catch up with an old friend from UC Merced. There was a lot of walking involved, but, I enjoyed every minute of it.

After a bit of touring on our own we joined a walking tour that focused on WWII and the Jewish quarter of Paris. Religion is a tricky thing in Paris, and WWII was not a shining moment for the French. According to the guide, France is deeply embarrassed by bits of their history, but it became clear walking around that they really have taken the time to honour the dead with beautiful monuments and tributes throughout the city. I enjoyed all of the smells of fresh bread and kebabs while on the walk, and we had the chance to meet some really great Americans who also wanted to enjoy a bit of history. I was able to find a really nice mezuzah from a shop in the quarter, and sampled a very tasty bagel with my mom. According to the Art of Living Guide:

“The city’s most famous Jewish neighborhood is in the Marais and is known as the Pletzl – Yiddish for little Place. This 4th arrondissment district (Metro: St. Paul) has been home to Jews on and off since the thirteenth century. Today, though gentrification has made this one of the city’s most fashionable quarters, it is still heavily Jewish and has been for nearly one hundred years.”

If you are ever in Paris, I highly recommend the tour with Localers. The guide that we had made three hours breeze by and gave us a mix of history and current secrets and hidden gems in the city. Ask for Edward. Here is his bio:

Edward is a Franco-British guide and a proper local – born and bred in Paris – a French soul trapped in the body of an Englishman! After working several years in hospitality and hotel management in Normandy, he decided to embark his clients along with him on an adventure. Totally bicultural, he shares a breadth of information on Paris. Whether outdoors or in a museum, he knows his turf like the back of his hand and still, Paris never ceases to amaze him. Like in magic, there’s always something there that you never saw. Promoting Paris in a fun and eclectic way, Edward often goes that extra mile to provide a well-rounded Parisian experience. In his spare time he likes treading the cobblestones, exploring lesser known parts of Paris. And when he isn’t in the city, you’ll find him hiking in the Pyrenees.

Wednesday was an early day filled of rain, a large double decker tour bus and trip out of the city to the beaches of Normandy. My dad is a huge WWII buff and he, my uncle, and my grandad all served in the Army, so this was his one request of the trip. We set off in the pouring rain, but at the end of the three hour bus ride we were met with clouds, but no rain. We started at the Memorial de Caen dedicated to WWII and the Battle of Normandy. This was one of the most beautiful museums I have ever been to. It was well presented, very detailed, and very respectful of all sides. What struck me most was the treatment of Jews, the severity of the battle, and the propaganda on display at the time.

After the museum, we went to Omaha beach where the Americans landed. The beach was beautiful and tragic, and it was overwhelming to think about what it might have been like on that fateful day. After the war, France gave every one of the allied countries a plot of land to be used as a memorial and cemetery for those who died in battle. We went to the American cemetery. It looks a lot like Arlington, and the government has done a great job to make sure the land is beautiful and a great tribute to the soldiers.  Many of the men buried there were not even out of their teens. The magnitude of that, being 19 and dying for your country, is something that I cannot even imagine. These men died for a cause, died so that I could say that I am embarrassed to be an American right now, died so that I can be a practicing Jew without being afraid of what people would do.

This was the trip I didn’t know that I needed to go on. It was nice to get out of the city, but it was also nice to put some things in perspective. I’ve heard and read about all the protests and people feeling like they are getting shafted. People are being petty and hateful and not focusing on real issues like Standing Rock, and terror threats. I can protest, complain, celebrate the system because these men stormed a beach willing to die for America. It makes the grief counseling, safe spaces and colouring books seem a bit daft, but hopefully people remember what these men did for our freedom and will think about fixing a long broken system.

We met a lovely family from Wisconsin during the tour. They were fantastic. Funny, curious, and educated. They were open to discussion and I enjoyed sitting with them when usually I hate interacting with other people in tour groups.

My last day in Paris was Thanksgiving. Personally, I haven’t celebrated Thanksgiving in awhile. I cooked a meal for my friends and family here last year, but for the last few years I have been traveling. My mom and I spent the day hunting out the home of Gertrude Stein and Shakespeare and Company. Armed with a map and the Lonely Planet book, my mom and I wandered outside the bounds of tourists and had a good time wandering around laughing at each other, and trying not to get lost. Gertrude Stein is my favourite poet, so seeing where she wrote some of her best work was amazing. We then spent Thanksgiving in an Irish pub drinking beer, eating fish and chips and lox and bagels and enjoying both a Scottish bartender and a guy from New York. My mother has a tendency to lose her gloves wherever we go, and we had ourselves in a fit of giggles when she left them on the table and then dropped them in the bathroom. I went back to get them and then my mom and I laughed all the way back to the hotel….of course, we were the only ones laughing.

I made it home feeling like I got a very good feel for the city of Paris and an urge to see other parts of France. I came home with art, a little more culture and feeling boosted by being with my parents. I’m grateful for everything I have, and every day that I get to go on adventures. I’m hoping that feeling keeps me warm for the next couple of weeks so I can finish some reports, complete the draft of my paper, and finish the draft of my methodology chapter.

I’m happiest when I am traveling and France gave me the chance to reconnect with an old friend, see my parents, and take in some really great sights. I cannot wait for my next trip in a month. Budapest, get ready for me.

 

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 46

Posted on by erranteditor

Today I am thankful for the cold weather. I bruise really easily and for the last few weeks I have been trying to do yoga on a regular basis and for some reason think that I can do any pose out there. I’ve been balancing on my arms, using my knees, and falling. A lot of falling. Because of that, I am covered in bruises. My knees have it the worst. Very purple and ugly….they also happen to look like I spent some time on my knees on a hard surface (don’t worry mom, I’m as pure as the driven snow). Luckily it is so cold here that I have to stay well bundled up. No one sees these knees but me (and probably my neighbors if I wear shorter yoga pants and forget to close my curtains). I am almost done with the medication I am being weaned off of, and minus a few headaches and being tired, I am happy to report that most things in the land of Kim are progressing quite nicely.

But, to the task at hand. I know last week I was not really in a good mood about the election, and I have to say, that has not changed, but I am choosing to keep moving forward and stay off of Facebook as much as possible since it all seems to be a bit daft and people still haven’t figured out that there are some real issues that need to be addressed but that the media is going to make it difficult for anything to happen in a civil way. This week the writing challenge is to write a letter to my future self.

So, here goes:

Dear Kimberly,

I hope by this time in your career people have figured out how you spell your name in the UK. You can be Kim, but Kimberly might eventually have a more academic ring to it. Hopefully you have learned to stop getting annoyed when people spell it wrong when there are so many people in this world whose parents gave them impossible to spell names and yours can easily be shortened. In the grand scheme of things, an extra e isn’t really that big of a deal.

I hope that you learned to stop worrying about money. The loan will get paid and you will not regret any of those trips that you took, or the parts of the world you got to see. You will learn more about yourself and about people then you could ever learn being in one place all the time. I hope you have learned to see all of those adventures as investments in yourself and little bits and bobs that come together to make you a better person. All that hemming and hawing you do now about money is making your head hurt and not doing you any good.

Your stubborn ass better still be in therapy, even if it is just every so often to do general maintenance. Don’t you dare do that thing you did when you were younger and assumed that once it started to work and you felt better that you didn’t need to go anymore. That’s stupid and we both know it. You need to get a handle on some very deep seeded issues, but you also have a brain chemistry that needs a little extra help to stay balanced. Don’t put aside that process when you know you need it.

Keep pushing for the literacy programme, especially if you haven’t gotten it up and running yet. You know the value of it, and know what a difference being able to read can make for people. You want to make the world a better place, and the way to do that is give people the power to educate themselves and be involved in processes that effect them. The goal is not to teach people only English, so you aren’t just trying to make people fit a prepackaged idea of literacy, and whether everyone understands that or not is not your concern. You just need to focus on the people that you want to help and the best ways to do that. Also, you better still be sending books to Muffin.

I hope that you have figured out how to let go of toxic relationships and have faith in the bonds you have. You were surrounded by some really amazing people, and although small in number, they are the ones that matter, not the other ones. Stop trying to change the minds of people who don’t like you because in the great words of RuPaul: “What other people think of you is not your concern”. The ones that matter, the ones that are probably still in your life, those are the ones who know you, those are the ones who care, and the ones you should focus your love and attention on. They haven’t let you down, so don’t let them down.

And for God’s sake, you better have at least one dog. Seriously.

Sass and snark,

Kimbo

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 45

Posted on by erranteditor

I’ve just eaten an entire large chocolate bar that is making me sorta want to barf, and I am about to say something that I never ever ever ever thought I would say:

I’m ashamed to be American right now. As a general rule, I try not to talk about politics on social media, but in this case, I have to say something. Look, Donald Trump is not my idea of a president. Hilary Clinton wasn’t either. But, democracy has made it so Mr. Trump is now the president, and as much as I may not like it, it isn’t going to change. My shame is not about that. My shame comes from the way people have been acting for the past few days. I’ve been staying off social media for the most part because all I see are hateful people spewing hateful rhetoric. My liberal friends are now assuming that anyone who did not vote for Mrs. Clinton is of the mindset of Trump, that white people can’t be sympathetic or afraid of the possible changes in the country, and chants of ‘not my president’ when four and even eight years ago if someone would have said that then they were racist. My conservative friends are getting resentful of having to defend their choice, of trying to get people to see beyond who they cast a vote for. They are starting to be hateful about people being upset over the results, and being afraid for the future. I am sick to my stomach over the stories, from my friends and in the media, about racial slurs, religious insults, and homophobia running rampant. No one should have to give a fake name at Starbucks because they are afraid of what people would do if they know they are from the Middle East. I’m equally as disgusted with the rioting, looting, and violent protest. Do you really think that is going to help your cause? Destroying your city, making people look at you like you are an idiot instead of a person who is worried about the future of the country and the people in and want to make sure their voices are heard?

The worst is universities cancelling exams, offering pizza and other forms of comfort rather than giving students a space to grieve, and then making sure that they educate them on the  election process and the system, and remind them of the ways they can be helpful and productive in this time of crazy uncertainty. This is what happens when you give everyone a participation trophy. They don’t learn about hard work, fighting for what they believe in, or how to be gracious winners or losers. Right now America looks ignorant, spiteful, mean, and to be honest, is getting exactly what they deserve.

But it still leaves me sick. I’m an expat. I do not plan to move back to the States, but I have never been ashamed of where I came from until now. I’m hoping that people settle down and focus on the things that matter, and that maybe Mr. Trump will not be as bad as people seem to think given that he hasn’t done anything yet. I’m hoping that people remember that showing love to others, volunteering time, and maybe money to programmes like Planned Parenthood and other federally funded programmes of that nature is what is going to help get through this.

On to something better….the writing challenge for the week. This week is dedicated to the job I would have if money was no object. I can talk about this all day. I would love to be a travel writer. My dream is to spend my life living in different places for three or four months at a time and writing about what life is like there. I would also like to be able to start my nonprofit literacy foundation and help people learn to read. I always saw it as an organization that helped people learn to read and write in their native language, and then learn to read, write, and speak English (or another language that would allow them to interact with people around them). I would love to work with different cultures and different people helping them enjoy books as much as I do. I also want to bring the Reading with Rover to more libraries. Everyone should get to read to a puppy. My wanderlust is always there, and so is my love for books and learning, so being able to do all of those things at once, and maybe even make some lives better in the process sounds all right by me.

So, who is going to judge me if I find a sugar daddy to help fund some of these projects? Anyone? No. Good.

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 44

Posted on by erranteditor

Last night I broke my bed….like the leg of the bed snapped off. For those who don’t know me other than through my writing, I am not a big girl. I’m 5’3 and 126 lbs. But, sat down on my bed, and broke it. If I wasn’t aware of what I looked like, I would seriously think I was fat. Even worse, there isn’t a cool story behind it. I’ve decided though that if anyone asks, I am going to tell them it was a wild night with the boy. He’s 6’5 220 lbs, so it is less of a stretch to imagine that. The thing that has me in a huff though is that when I called the landlord she told me she didn’t care about the bed, but she wasn’t in a position to replace it. She acted like she had no idea what I wanted her to do about it. She finally agreed with much suffering that she would try and replace it by the weekend, but that I shouldn’t expect anything fancy.

Like I am a super high maintenance person who needs a massive four poster bed that costs hundreds of pounds….seriously. I told her I neither expected, nor needed anything fancy. I just need a bed frame that keeps the mattress off the floor and is high enough for me to keep my shoes and giant suitcase under. (Edit, she got me a bed, and apologised for coming off as huffy. She lost her job and hasn’t been working steadily and was a bit freaked about money….which now makes me feel bad for being miffed at her because they really are good landlords and I love my flat).

So, now that I feel like a jerk, it is time to get to the writing challenge this week: where do I see myself in five years?

I’m not going to lie, this question freaks me out a little. One of my biggest fears is that I will wake up in ten years and be doing the same thing every day like a robot. I’m worried that I will wake up and nothing has changed and I won’t have noticed that all that time has passed. I do not like the idea of being stagnate, can’t stand the idea of some sort of boring routine. It was recently pointed out to me though that that is exactly what I am doing with my depression and the cycle of negativity that I sometimes find myself in. I did not have a reply for that.

So, here is my best shot for where I see myself in five years: I hope that since I will be post PhD (oh good lord, I hope so anyway) that I am working for a university designing curriculum, and fingers crossed, in the classroom teaching. I’ll be well into my 30s, which means I will be in the prime of my life. I hope that I am making enough money to pay all of my bills on my own without the help of my mother. I’d like to have a puppy. and a kitty. and a bunny. and a goat. and a penguin. I would love it if I was still living in Scotland, but if I wouldn’t be opposed to living in Australia or New Zealand. I don’t see myself living in the US again, unless there is a serious emergency that takes me back…or the wombmate has triplets. I see myself spending as much time as I can with my muffin over Skype and with visits to California. I hope to have a nice little social circle of people that makes me laugh. I see a lot more stamps in my passport. There are so many places to visit, so many beaches to lay on, so many tattoos to get. I don’t see myself giving up traveling, but hopefully in the next five years I can cross a lot of places off my list. I see myself having a lot better handle on my depression (I hope).

The one thing I know for sure is that my MSc will be paid for. I have about a year left to pay on that, and man oh man am I getting excited about seeing that balance drop every month. I’ll be starting to make payments for CSUF, but I’m trying not to think about that right now.

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 42

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October is over next week. Really? I have no idea where this month went, and I am not sure that I got everything done that needed to be done. All of the commuting has pulled me off track, and the cold weather just makes me want to stay in bed and watch old movies all day….or drag queens. I love me the drag queens.

The writing challenge for this week is to write about the last time I broke the rules. I’ve been trying to think about this for the last few days, and I really can’t think of any rules I have broken. I’m too afraid to break rules here because I don’t want to get deported and have to go back to California. I did get pepper spray into the country, and had a mini moment of panic at the airport over a year ago when I thought TSA would find it and I’d be arrested. I had another moment of panic on my first date with the boy when I mentioned it to him and he told me he would have to arrest me because it was illegal. I really only dated him so that I could bribe him with my wares and stay out of jail (at first I was kidding, but now I am not so sure that that isn’t the reason).

Lately though, I toe the line a lot better. There is only one rule that I can think of that I really broke, and that rule comes from my therapy sessions. I overshare here way too much, but this one I am going to have to keep to myself. Partly because I am ashamed that it has to be a rule for my life, and partly because it is one that I was quick to break in a moment of weakness. It is really easy for people to tell me to be strong, and that I can just choose to be happy, but what I don’t think people understand is that part of my illness keeps me comfortable in my self destructive behaviours. I like being here. I’m comfortable here. I know what to do and what happens here.

I’m not proud of the slip, but tomorrow is another day, next week is a new week, and next month is a new month, all chances for me to keep moving forward and stop breaking rules that don’t need to be broken.

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 42

Posted on by erranteditor

Ten weeks left in the year 2016. I for one can’t say that I will be sad to see it go.

I spent a majority of this week on the bus commuting between the campuses to see the students I tutor, so I am a little grumpy about the lack of my own work that got done, a little tired from all the time on the bus, and now that the weather is getting colder, I am finding it hard to get out of the house without a few layers.

But, I’m trying to stay positive, and trying to see the good in things, so I will not get bogged down in some of those things. The challenge for this week is to describe my day in five words. Because Sunday is the day I don’t get out of bed until I absolutely have to, and then clean my flat from top to bottom, I will write about my Friday….I meant to write this on Friday anyway.

Frustrating. I was supposed to have a meeting Friday morning, and after waiting for a week and a half for confirmation on the meeting time, I heard nothing until the moment we were supposed to meet. The email asked if we were still meeting, and said sorry if you were waiting for me to confirm…..thanks. I also got several emails from the office about my impending move into the storage closet. I’ve spent the whole week off campus, so I packed everything on Monday since I knew I wouldn’t be in. I then got an email about the fact that I still needed to pack my desk. Really it meant I had to travel an hour one way on a Saturday to create a cardboard box for my computer. It took me longer to walk up the stairs to my office than it did to do anything else. I’ve still never been told I was moving. I just got the paper that you have to fill out when you move. It really does not make me want to go into the office at all. I already know that I am not a part of the office, but the lack of communication and respect is starting to make me feel bad about myself.

Confusing. I blame the boy. He fucks with me on so many levels that running into him on my way to therapy left me confused about how I feel about him. I’ve been struggling to get out of the relationship, and making good strides to not keep getting sucked into his emotionless selfish life, but when he kissed me hello and waited for the bus with me and mentioned going on a date to the Royal Botanics like we did last year, I saw that little glimmer of hope that he could be the boyfriend I wanted, even though I know that is not true.

Emotional. I see my therapist every Friday, and the sessions always leave me feeling emotionally wiped out. I also blame the boy for this.

Unexpected. While waiting for the bus, I ran into a friend of mine who was also on his way home. We were able to ride the bus home together and trade tales of our PhD life. I don’t mind riding the bus home by myself, but it was nice to run into a friendly face. It makes me feel like I really live in the city now.

Social. I know, me, social. Crazy. One of the most lovely humans I know was celebrating her birthday. She organized a group to meet at the Royal Botanic Gardens to see the annual light show followed by drinks and dancing. I love spending time with the special special unicorn, so a chance to celebrate her birth seemed like a great idea to me. I was not disappointed. I worried a little because I am not good in social situations when I don’t know anyone, but all of the people I met on Friday night were wonderful creatures. I had a lovely chat with a police officer who let me try and convince people he was a small animal masseuse, met sweet couples, and found a partner in sarcasm. There was no awkward moments, no feelings of being an outsider, and only a little teasing when I refused to go dancing at the end of the night. It was absolutely wonderful.

I was able to end the day on a good note, able to forget about the struggles from the missed meetings, the encounter with the boy, the emotional hour in therapy.  It reminded me that I am not completely hopeless at making friends and enjoying an evening around other people, and that there is hope for me to get a handle on my depression and go back to being my lovely little flamingo in a flock of pigeons.

The Scamp at 400

Posted on by erranteditor

It has been exactly one year and four months since 300. I’m quite impressed with myself that I have made it this far in the process. I’m not very good at sticking to projects, but I have stuck to this one for the last 5 years. I do the weekly challenges to keep me writing, but truth be told, this blog has been a good form of therapy for me.

I’ve been sitting on this post for a few days because my 300th post was so full of hope and so upbeat. I wrote that post on my last day in the US. I was ready for my fresh start, ready for my life in Scotland to help me forget about the horrible two years I had in California. I was under the delusion that leaving my problems in California meant that I would be free of them.

Boy was I wrong. If I have learned anything in the last year and some change, it is that you can’t run from your problems if you really want them to be resolved. I avoided therapy for awhile, and my depression got the better of me. I’m working on getting better, but it is a slow road for sure.

So while I have been sitting here at a loss for what to write about for the big 400, I started thinking about loss. It seems like loss has been on my mind a lot lately. When I read my 300th post again, I was sad to realize that I had lost the exuberance and go-get-em attitude that I had about starting my life here. I’ve spent a lot of time complaining about how I feel, and giving into my depression. It has wrecked my productivity, my ability to socialize, and even kept me in a relationship that should have ended awhile ago.

I’ve lost that naivete that being in my favourite city means that all my problems would disappear. I realize know that while I may have worked through some of my issues, there is a lot I still need to work though, and just like the meds I take to keep me going, I can’t stop going to therapy when I feel better.

I feel like I have lost a lot of time.

That wasn’t the only loss I have been thinking about though. We are fast approaching the one year anniversary of my step-brother’s death. While his death was actually a release from his alcoholism, and something that the family had been expecting for a few years, it was still a shift in the family dynamics. My dad is the only person who was still in contact with him, I gave up on him five or six years ago, and it broke him. I think my mom still feels some guilt that she was in Edinburgh with me when it happened, but because my dad doesn’t talk about it much, it is hard to really say how he is doing. When I think about Eric, there is not one memory I have of him that did not involve him being drunk or strung out on drugs. I remember him ruining toasts at a wedding with his drunken shouting, being carried out of another wedding because he kept falling and knocking things over. I was always embarrassed by him. Always. I chose not to mourn his loss, even though it destroyed my dad.

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This is the last picture that we have all together, and we are still missing our oldest brother. Eric is behind me on the right. This photo was taken seven years ago. He was drunk. This year my mom and I will be taking my dad to Paris so that he doesn’t have to spend Thanksgiving alone thinking about the death of his middle born son.

I can only hope that it works.

When I think about not mourning the loss of my brother, I think about a loss that I mourn everyday. 20 years ago my grandma died in a car crash. I can’t remember the sound of her voice, but I can remember that I had gone out to get the mail and by the time I got back my mother had heard the message from my grandpa that she was gone.

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She was fashion plate. She loved everything in excess. She was a drug addict, compulsive gambler, and constantly obsessed over her weight, but to me she was just Grammy Fran. She was the one who took us to Hamburger Hamlet and had zebra print carpet in her TV room. She was the one who shared her love of Hummingbirds with us, and made sure that my mom could keep  roof over our heads when my biological father abused her and took everything but the $25 dollars she had in her wallet, and my brother, the wombmate and me. I have some of her purses and jewelry, and I cannot smell Red Door without thinking about her, but there is just so much I wish she had been around for. She would have loved coming to visit me here, would have had some very creative suggestions for how to handle the dude who cheated on me and broke my heart, and probably would have tried to set me up with the son of one of the women in her Mahjong club. Chances are he would have been a nice Jewish boy, most likely a doctor,and probably close to retirement age.

I still remember when she tried to set my mom up with a really creepy old guy that lived in the same conodo complex in Palm Springs….my poor mother. She was maybe 37 and this dude was 60 with a beer gut and hair in his ears. I’m sure she meant well though.

There is another loss that I feel quite hard all the time. That is the loss of my family. I am not around them all the time, I miss out on dinners, holidays, and moments with my little man.

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I mean, I was pretty dumb for moving 5,400 miles from this face. When I was in California for the wedding at the end of September, I did not even notice my depression. Granted, I had something planned everyday, did not get as much work done as I wanted, and was on major holiday mode, but it was nice to be around everyone again. I still have lingering feelings that I will become irrelevant in their lives, and end up here alone a crazy cat lady….minus the cats.

I think what I can learn from the last year and change is that I still have a lot of work to do, and I still have time to make some real changes before I turn 30. In just five short months I get to close the door on my 20s, and I cannot wait to be able to say that I survived a very trying ten years of my life. Who knows where I will be when I get to number 500.

Hopefully I’ll be on a tropical island with a fruity drink that has an umbrella with a hot cabana boy fanning me with a giant fan.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 41

Posted on by erranteditor

I have countless posts detailing the numerous reasons why I love living in Edinburgh. I fell in love with the city four years ago, and returned to it like a beacon in the night when I hit rock bottom. Now, as I sit on my moderately comfy couch in my nice and tidy little flat watching the rain fall and the leaves change colours as Autumn blooms, I remain happy with my choice to return.

There is a lot to love about this city, but here are a few of the highlights;

    1. The people. This is a highly international city, and for the most part, people are really friendly. I’ve never felt unsafe living here, and have had some really nice conversations on bus rides to and from work. People here are polite, they let old people on the bus first, will stand to give them a seat, they don’t hesitate to give directions to lost tourists (something I still don’t like to do). If you go into a shop, a cafe, or even the grocery store, people will smile, ask how your day is, and are quick to offer help should you need it. I know that a lot of it is hospitality training, but since I live far enough outside the toursity part of the city, I feel that it is genuine.

     

    1. The culture. This city is dripping in culture. Between the museums and monuments, the castle and old buildings, you can see history everywhere you look here. Even the building I live in has a history. It used to be a warehouse hosing goods that did not pass customs inspections. Now there are warehouse conversions from 1 bedroom cozy flats to three bedroom really spacious top floor flats. I am constantly learning new things and finding new places to visit. I’ve been to the castle many times now, and spent many a rainy afternoon in the art galleries and museums, and have never been disappointed.

     

    1. The pace of living. Things are a lot simpler here. People move slower, relax more. I walk most places, and can take the bus most everywhere else. While the commuting sometimes gets to me, the fact that people here enjoy walks in the park or a cup of tea in the middle of the afternoon makes me feel more relaxed. I’m usually burning the candle at any end that can burn, but there is something nice about living in a place where just about everything is closed on a Sunday.

     

     

    1. I feel like me here. I’m not really sure what it is about this city, but it is the first place in eleven years that has really felt like home. I feel like I fit here. It is not something I can totally put into words though. It is just a settled feeling I have when I step off the plane in Edinburgh. I’ve had this feeling since my very first visit just before my 25th Even on my lowest days (and there have been a lot of them lately) I am still happy that I am here trying to sort myself out. I hope that when my visa is up and I can stay here and really make this place my home.

The Scamp Crosses One Off the List

Posted on by erranteditor

Technically I get to cross two things off the list. The first is number 17: Create something original. I have been working on a draft of a paper on programme focused approaches to feedback, and it is finally approaching that point where it is ready to be sent out for publication. I guess I can’t really cross it off the list yet since it hasn’t been published, but it makes me feel good that it is almost there. I’ve been working on the paper for almost a year. I’m ready for it to be done.

The other activity that I can cross off the list is seeing one of my favourite bands in concert. While I am still holding out hope to see the Mighty Mighty BossTones or the Fratellis, I was able to go to Glasgow this week and see Less Than Jake! I haven’t seen them live since I was 17 years old. I remember that I was with two of my friends, Lori and Mallory, and we drove to the House of Blues at Downtown Disney. I don’t remember any of the opening bands, but I remember it was raining really hard and after the show we drove through Del Taco and got snacks. This time around I took the train and some buses to get a little ska nostalgia in my life. We had tickets to be on the balcony so that I would not get overwhelmed by all the people, and from 6pm to 11pm Errol and I enjoyed the strange tendency of Scottish people to stand still at concerts, and three interesting bands before being rewarded with Less Than Jake.

The first band was awful. They didn’t know if they wanted to be a metal band or a pop punk band. I have no idea what they are called. The assault on my ears was bad enough.

The second band is called The Bennies. They describe themselves as ‘Australia’s #1 party band playing Psychedelic Reggae Ska Doom Metal Punk Rock from hell!’ Errol described them as:

Ok. So, The Bennies – Australian herb loving hair band that’s basically Andrew WK meets Saves the Day. I’m pretty in.

I’m not really into smoking weed, but they sure are, and they were the happiest band I’ve seen live that wasn’t geared for kids. They completely love what they are doing, and they are having a really good time doing it. It doesn’t hurt that they are from Melbourne. The lead singer was wearing these really crazy red yoga pants and a hat covered in pot leaves.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hgpiGUcjZg
The next band hails from my original neck of the woods. They are called Marachi El Bronx. I really enjoyed them. They are a hardcore punk band from LA, that has a side project where they do their hits set to marachi music. I felt like I was a Sonora High School dance while they played. I wasn’t mad about it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YpnSbHtHDg
The last band that played before LTJ was the worst. They are a London based reggae band. They are all fake instruments and show. The lead singer is white and from London. He speaks like he was born in Jamaica, and wants to be black. He rubbed me the wrong way.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NgOTFQHh8s
When Less Than Jake finally came on, Errol and I were ready to party. I really haven’t listened to them past their album Hello Rockview, but that did not stop my enjoyment of the show at all. Errol went down to the pit, while I enjoyed the show from the balcony. I sang along, danced like an idiot (afterall, I have two left feet and vertigo) and remembered my days as a ska kid. I miss those days. I didn’t get home until 1:30, and I was a mess of a human on Monday, but it was worth it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYIx0sFNDH4
Now to work on having a solid draft of my thesis chapter completed, and creating a sleep schedule that doesn’t involve me not falling asleep until 3am and not waking up until 1 pm. I am also now just two posts away from 400! I have to really start thinking about what 400 will look like.
  1. Learn how to drive in the UK.
  2. Present at an academic conference
  3. Start a new tradition
  4. Go back to therapy
  5. Visit three new countries (1/3 done with my trip to Malta, next up, France in November and Hungary in December)
  6. Ride in a hot air balloon
  7. Quit the tutoring centre
  8. Volunteer for a literacy programme
  9. Read a book that has more than 500 pages
  10. Make my bed everyday for at least three months
  11. Have a solid draft of my thesis completed
  12. Master scorpion pose
  13. Attend the symphony
  14. Learn a rap song from start to finish
  15. Host a dinner party
  16. Create a  budget so I can pay down my student loans
  17. Create something original
  18. Create a solid workout regime
  19.  Go on a long hike (6 miles or more)
  20. Learn to dance
  21. Eat an exotic meal
  22. Learn to cook a fancy meal
  23. Yell at a football match
  24. Go horseback riding
  25. Master British spelling and punctuation
  26. Create a good sleep schedule
  27. See my favorite group in concert
  28. Fall in love
  29. Stop holding grudges
  30. Let go of my expectations

The Scamp and Her Philosophical Approach

Posted on by erranteditor

I did not get out of bed until 2 pm today.

I slept. I moped. I stressed over all of the things that needed to be done, what I’m doing with my time and energy, and trying to figure out why I just don’t want to get out of bed.

When I did get out of bed, I moved my pj bottomed ass to my couch. I put on Drag Race and attempted to sort through emails, and maybe get a little writing done.

It is 20 after 5. I’ve written seven words on the ethical considerations of my research, and spent a long time staring at the empty section of my philosophical approach to research.

Which is odd considering the writing challenge for this week is to sum up my world view in one page. This is something that my supervisors asked me to do almost a year ago. I have what I wrote, but trying to say that in academic terms is really difficult. Here is what I wrote a year ago:

Epistemology

Here is what I can say about my world view in non-academic terms: I believe in justice. I believe that those with a voice, those with any sort of power have an obligation to use that power to help those in need. I believe that reality is not a fixed thing, and will not be the same for everyone. My reality as a middle class Cuban-Jewish woman who grew up in California is going to be different than my best friend’s reality While we share common interests and some views on the world, it is impossible for us to understand the world in the exact same way. I believe that we all interact with the world in which we are a part of, but that interaction is different for all people. The way that we process knowledge, and the way that we understand the spaces that we inhabit, is based on the way we grew up, where we grew up, and how we grew up. Because of that, I do not think it is possible to make blanket statements that truth is universal for everyone. I believe that the best way to figure out what everyone’s “truths” are is to talk to them, interact with them, and not try to make their truths the same as my truths. If epistemology is meant to ask questions like: “What is knowledge?”, “How is knowledge acquired?”, “What do people know?”, “What are the necessary and sufficient conditions of knowledge?”, “What is its structure, and what are its limits?”, “What makes justified beliefs justified?”, “How we are to understand the concept of justification?”, “Is justification internal or external to one’s own mind?”, then the best way to describe my approach to the world would be somewhere between camp pragmatist and camp constructionist. I am constantly trying to make sense of the world, but try to do so in terms of how those around me come to their understanding of ‘truth.’ I believe that it is dependent on convention, human perception and social experience. Within that though, I am also interested in the importance of practical consequences, and how the theory, and the ideas that we generate from our research, really affect people. I’m also concerned with what those consequences mean for moving forward with new research. It is my hope that practical and useful knowledge can come from social inquiry.

Ontology

            This one is a hard view to pin down. I believe that our perceptions are what shape reality. More importantly, since I believe that knowledge is constructed it would be impossible to get to the ‘true’ nature of reality, since that reality is created by each individual. I guess this would make me an interpretist or relativist. The pragmatist in me doesn’t really worry about the ontological issues because I am more concerned with real world applications and have always felt that if I had a clear epistemological position, then my ontological point of view would not be as important.

My main supervisor said it was pithy. It’s still the nicest thing he has ever said to me. Really, I am not sure that that really explains my worldview. I think that bad things happen to good people. I think that sometimes life sucks. I think that family, however you choose to define it, makes everything better. I believe that the world will never be a peaceful place until people learn how to have a real conversation, and how to actually listen to what is being said. I believe that animals make everything better. A puppy makes a world of difference on a bad day.

I believe that the only way I will truly be a good educator is through seeing the world and learning about people. I believe that everyone should be able to get an education if they want one, whether it be university, a trade, or learning through doing. I believe that therapy is a girl’s best friend, and there is nothing wrong with admitting that sometimes I cheat on my diet and eat an entire large chocolate bar by myself. I believe that the world would be a better place if people put down their phones and pick up a book. Reading is after all, fundamental.

I believe that as I get older my worldview will change. I think that is a good thing though. I think my worldview should change as I change. I’d like to think that as I meet and interact with people, as I learn more and experience the world that I will become a better person with a better world view.