The Coming of Spring and No. 200!

Today is entry number 200 in my online journal. I began this blog on April 1, 2005, and I have absolutely no regrets. I love to document things, and especially document my life. Sometimes I laugh when I think of all the journals and writings and scrapbooks that I'm going to leave behind and I imagine they'll either be stuffed in a box in the attic or thrown in the trash.....but I hope not. I'm hoping for a real sentimental daughter-in-law one day. :) It’s been fun to write about life, interests, plans, travel, etc. It’s a more efficient way for me to journal given that I'm much more consistent with this type of journal. I also have a paper diary but my entries are sporadic. I reserve that journal for more private thoughts and serious conversations with myself. We should all have conversations with ourselves from time to time.
It's interesting to peek in on someone’s life from time to time. It can make you feel real good about your own. It can make you laugh. It can provide one of those "Ah, hah!" moments. I enjoy reading a handful of blogs daily. I have corresponded with the authors of several of them. A few of them are: Sage, a homeschooling mother who moved to Toronto, Canada because she and her husband disagreed so vehemently with President Bush. Kim, a 30-something woman who is a masseuse and her husband a photographer. They just had a little baby girl and they live outside Sedona, Arizona. I also read the blogs of 2 people living in China, one a young American male teaching English and the other a young female Beijinger. You may wonder if I have too much free time at work. I do have a certain amount of free time at work. However, I read these blogs on my lunch and coffee breaks (smiling).
Okay, enough nonsense about my blog and other bloggers. I have something very important to say on this, the 200th entry. If you did not see Oprah’s one hour special about the school for girls she opened in South Africa, it’s coming on again Saturday (I think in the early evening). It’s on ABC. You really, really should watch it. Every school age kid should watch those African girls express their unbelievable gratitude at being able to go to Oprah’s Leadership Academy. It’s the words of the girls that are most amazing. It's the obstacles they live with every day yet are the best in their class that makes them so remarkable. Watch it. Watch it with your kids. You won’t regret it.

Dining with friends....

Altruda's spumoni is the very best!

Nana can't believe she finished the whole bowl of lasagna!

All pregnant women should have their own candle-topped ice cream! This was at a going away dinner last Friday night for Hua, Tracy’s husband. Hua will be leaving in two days to begin a post-doctoral research associate position at Tufts University, outside Boston, Mass. Tracy will stay here in Knoxville until she has their little baby girl, around the first week of May, and then join her husband as soon as she and the baby are able to travel. I will certainly miss them and I will miss their little baby! I will be Tracy’s labor and delivery coach and am pretty excited about that. It will be the first time I have witnessed the birth of a baby, other than my own son. I think I’ll enjoy this birth much more. :)

This weekend was fairly uneventful. N slept a lot, trying to convert his system to the eastern time zone. We did cook a couple of nice meals, though, which was nice. N emptied the dishwasher without prodding, and also took the trash out! Baby steps, but solid steps. My boy might be trainable yet!

China, China, China, China! :)

Someone recently said that I seem to talk/write a lot about China. It was obvious that their words were not meant to be positive. Well, you know, so what if I journal a lot about China? I absolutely LOVED being in China for what precious little time I was there. It was an incredible adventure for me. I would give up chocolate for the rest of my life (seriously) if I could just go back and spend more time in China. I have very, very good friends who are Chinese. They mean a lot to me. A lot. I write what I want to for my online journal. It’s mine. I write what I feel like writing and I post pictures of things/events/people that are important to me and mean something to me. That’s what bloggers do. I enjoy it. I honestly don’t care if anyone reads it or not. But I always appreciate it when someone pays me a positive comment about something I’ve written.
People who journal (as I do) tend to journal (and talk) about things that mean something to us. Issues that are important to us. China (the country and its people) is important to me. I spent months reading great Chinese literature in preparation for my trip. Going to China changed my life. Even a small tiny event that occurs within the space of seconds can drastically change your life. Those things are important. Geez, I mean, having a kid changes your life. Getting married, getting divorced, getting old, getting ill, blah, blah, blah. Have you ever heard a divorced woman go on and on about her crazy ex-husband? Of course! It’s important to them at the time. All kinds of things change the direction of our lives. What’s important to one person may not be important to another. That’s okay. Some things that were important to me ten years ago are not important to me today. Things change. People change. The world changes.
When I am fortunate enough to travel to another country....I get completely immersed in the culture. I want to know everything there is to know about what I'm seeing and see it all. I want to talk to people and eat different foods and just sit and listen to the sound of a different language being spoken. When I traveled to Europe when I was 16, there was no easy internet access, like I enjoyed before my trip to China. I went to the library to do my research. I wanted to know the less-touristy things to do....even at that age. I found out about a hotel in Vienna, Austria that served an incredible homemade chocolate cake (called Sacher Torte, and layered with apricot jam) and you could actually get a glass of cold milk there (and I do love a glass of cold milk with chocolate cake!). It was (and still is) near the famous Vienna State Opera House. I got a map, found the hotel on the map, walked there by myself and had a piece of that cake, sitting at a little table outside at the hotel cafe. It was delicious.
If you think these are just mindless rantings about travel.....I suppose one could blame my mother. She started it when she arranged for me to go on that incredible trip to Europe when I was in high school. It began my lifetime love of other countries and other peoples.
So.......tonight I am thrilled to be going to dinner with my son at our favorite Italian restaurant. And guess what? We’re taking my CHINESE friends.

About My Son.....

My son has returned home. He’s safe. He’s well. And.....he’s still sleeping right now! Seriously.
For weeks I have been telling my son to be careful while still living in Las Vegas. Be careful driving, son, you don’t want to get a ticket (he still has a TN driver’s license). Be careful, son, you don’t want to cause an accident. Be careful, son, and watch out for all the crazy driver’s there. You’re selling your car so you certainly don’t want to wreck it before you get a chance to sell it and move home. Be careful, be careful, be careful. (Hey....it’s a mother’s job, right?)
Last Sunday, I was politely minding my own business, having a relaxing time working on my photo journals with a few of my girlfriends when my mobile rings. It was around 8:00 a.m., Vegas time:
Me: Hello?
Son: Oh my gosh, you won’t BELIEVE what just happened?
Me: Oh my gosh, what? What? WHAT??? Are you okay? (I HATE it when he does that to me!)
Son: Yeah, but I just got hit by a drunk driver!
Me: Are you okay????
Son: Yeah, I’m okay. But the guy slammed on brakes at a GREEN LIGHT and when I swerved to his right to avoid hitting him, he decided to turn right from the inside lane and hit me. Then he TOOK OFF!
Me: Really?
Son: Yeah, so, of course, I knew I had to take off after him!
Me: What?!!!!!
Son: Yeah, but he finally stopped and the police are here now talking to him.
Me: Well, son, things happen and the most important thing is that you’re okay.
Son: Yeah.

It should be said that N was absolutely furious when the guy finally pulled over and N got out of the car. He demonstrated this by using his best, most colorful language. Then N saw that Drunk Guy was drunk so he decided he was just wasting his colorful language on him and backed off. Drunk Guy actually tried to convince Nick to just "exchange information" so he could go on his merry, inebriated way.

Drunk Guy: So dude, you don’t have that much damage to your car. Let’s just exchange numbers and leave.
Son: Uh, no, that’s not gonna work for me.

So Drunk Guy, who had only been living in Vegas for 2 months, also got a ticket for not having a Nevada driver’s license, along with his expensive stay in the Clark County Jail. Nick showed the police his Tennessee driver’s license. They didn’t say a word. Whew! They didn’t ask for his insurance. Double whew!
Long story trying to be short (really, I’m trying).....Nick is working with Drunk Guy’s insurance agent but had to leave the car at his former employer’s in Vegas without selling it. The silver lining, hopefully, will be that Nick will most likely receive more for the damage than he would have received had he sold the car unwrecked. The car still runs just fine. It just "don’t look so pretty." He already has a buyer who will buy it wrecked. So for now....all is well. He’s just waiting to hear from the adjuster.

I’m just glad my son is home and away from what truly was, for him, The City of Lost Wages. He did experience one bright spot, however, as he was "leaving Las Vegas." He had dinner with friends there and before they took him to the airport they decided to have a few drinks and they all started playing poker machines. N, of course, couldn’t resist. He didn’t have all that much money with him. When he arrived in Knoxville at 6:00 a.m. he said, "I have good news and I have bad news." I said, "Lord have mercy on my soul and prevent me from having a heart attack, WHAT IS THE BAD NEWS?????" He said, "I played a poker machine before I went to the airport.......but I hit four aces and won $400!" Then he smiled. I said, "You’re buying breakfast!"

Saying Goodbye to Vegas......

New York, New York casino from room at the Excaliber.

Since my last post, life's been kinda slow and stressful. My son returns to Knoxville early Thursday morning. I’ll post on Friday and tell you all the drama surrounding his return! It’s funny and at the same time, not that funny. Yep, one of those kinds of stories. The important thing is that N is good and excited about getting back to his family and friends. Now don’t go emailing me about this fabulous funny/not so funny story because I just ain’t tellin’ till Friday! :) And no, I haven't even told my mother! ha
There are two big holes in the wall of the stairwell behind this dirty towel and pillow case. For over a year I have been hearing a slow drip, drip, drip inside the wall of my upstairs bathroom sink. My landlord and my landlord’s son agreed that it is a leak from a pipe inside the wall. Well, the drip, drip, drip has gotten faster and faster (dripdripdripdripdrip) and so they (landlord) finally sent a plumber (can you say 26 year old guy and 17 year old guy!!!!) in to fix the problem. They listened and agreed that there is a leak. They cut two big holes in the wall, exposed the pipes and found no wetness and no leaks. So.....now they say it’s just the pipes making noises that "sounds like drips!" Okay, whatever. My assessment is that it is dripping further down the pipes where they didn’t look. But it’s not my house and if they want the inside of the walls to get all damp and mildewed then I can’t do anything about it. I have decided I have probably spent my last winter in my big old house so it won’t really matter to me. As soon as my son gets situated and back on track, he’ll be getting his own place (yes! ha) and then I’m going to move to a smaller, drip-free, place.
Tomorrow night is Taiwan Culture Night at the I-House. And there’s a hypnotist at 8:00. I might try to catch both of these events but I’ll definitely be going to see my Taiwanese friends at the I-House and enjoying some great Chinese food! I’ll take some photos but probably won’t post them until Friday as I’ll be off work this Thursday.

Culture Junkie's Group Meeting

Wonderful hummus and pita bread and above, little chicken curry mini-wraps

Couscous, served cold

Great display of fruit and in the background, eggplant ratatoule

The group, beginning to arrive.

Today’s discussion about "A Street in Marrakech" was good. (Yes, of course I turned my mobile off!) This literary colloquy is made up of 10 students, 10 staff members (that would be my group) and 10 faculty members. Many had traveled to Morocco and we benefitted from their experiences. One post-doctoral student from Pakistan and gave us wonderful insight into Muslim culture. I chose not to share my dream about baraka but I did share my thoughts and opinions about this book and also a little research I did on the author, which was warmly received. The great thing about this group is that it brings together, through world literature, students, faculty and staff here at UT. There are not many activities here that can successfully achieve such cohesion. In the last couple of years this colloquy has become very popular and now there are more than one group. Maybe it’s the delicious food that is prepared for our discussions. It was better today than it’s ever been. The hummus, delicious; the meat, tender. I think I’m an addict; a culture addict. I have absolutely no discriminations when it comes to culture. Any country, any ethnicity, any place, any time. The other night I went to the apartment of an Indian couple to advise some Chinese friends on whether they should purchase some baby equipment or not. The apartment was filled with the delicious aroma of curry from recent food preparation. I complimented the wife on the wonderful smell and she seemed very pleased. Walking back to the car, I said to my friend, "I need to get a friend from India!"

Ridin' on the Marrakech Express....

I’ve been reading every day at lunch lately in order to finish a non-fiction book I am reading for the International Literary Colloquy (the country of focus is Morocco). We meet tomorrow at noon. "A Street in Marrakech" has been a very interesting read for me. This past fall I read "Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits" by a Moroccan author who now lives in the United States. Now I am learning much more about Morocco and it’s fascinating culture. Interestingly, my mother and father visited Morocco for a day when they traveled across the water from Spain while on a rare international vacation (their only one and the only time, to my knowledge, that my mother has left the United States, excepting Mexico). It was the only time that my brother and I were left with a bonafide, card-carrying, nanny. She was about 100 years old and we didn’t like her. But I digress. I remember my mother saying that they were taken to the suq (the market) and the men were told to put their wallets in their front pockets to avoid being pickpocketed. Elizabeth Fernea gives an accurate and colorful account of spending a year in Marrakech, in a traditional medina (neighborhood), with her husband and their three children. She exhibits an important level of patience as she gets to know the women who are her neighbors and eventually become her friends. I have really enjoyed this book, as I really enjoy insight into other cultures. Last night I even dreamed about looking for "baraka" (grace, blessing) and woke up thinking, "Did I really have a dream that included Arabic words?" I did. That’s the result of how my subconscious mind works when I read before sleeping. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s discussion. Surely we will dine on couscous; and maybe even tajeen (a stew of meat and spices). Enshallah.

Weekend Scraps

I had a good time scrapping with the ladies on Saturday. I finished 9 pages of photos from the cruise my son and I took. It was fun going back over all the photos and remembering how much we enjoyed that trip and the fun we had. He would like to go on another cruise. I told him that would be great and we would definitely go....as soon as he could pay for it. And, of course, we’ll have to find a ship without a casino.
Saturday night I went to see "The Departed" with some friends at the UC. The place was nearly full. It brought back memories of seeing movies at the UC when I was an undergrad. "The Departed" was very good and I can understand the recent nominations. There were so many characters who got shot in the head, however, that in the end everyone was just laughing about it. After the movie, I was surprised to learn from two Chinese friends that "The Departed" was a remake of a popular Chinese movie that came out in 2002. In fact, it was a 3 film series so there is a sequel to "The Departed" wherein we learn the identity of the police psychologist’s baby’s father. As quoted from the Hollywood Reporter: "The film, written by William Monahan ("Kingdom of Heaven"), derives from "Infernal Affairs," a hugely popular 2002 Hong Kong crime thriller co-directed by Alan Mak and Andrew Lau Wai Keung and written by Mak and Felix Chong. That too was a doozy of tight construction and breathtaking suspense. The story remains remarkably intact despite its transfer from cops and criminals in Hong Kong to a war between state police and a tough Irish mob in south Boston."

Fake Flower Friday

These "arrangements" using tissue flowers are used in mourning the dead in China.

Tiananmen Square and below, somewhere over Siberia

Tomorrow, I’m scrappin’ with the ladies! A friend of mine is a teacher at the Tennessee School for the Deaf and once a month we try to get together to work on our scrapbooks in the dining hall at the school. We bring snacks and create a snack table. This is most important. :) Then we spread out all our "stuff" and get to work. Last time, my friend Ginger opted to work on handmade cards instead and created nearly 50 by day’s end. Another friend worked on her daughter’s album, who passed away from cerebral palsy. One lady worked on her "anniversary" album. She creates a beautiful 2-page spread for each year that she and her husband have been married. We have the radio going in the background (usually oldies) and it’s just a nice, pleasant, comfortable day. We borrow each other’s tools and put out requests for a certain color paper or a certain "punch" and sometimes a request for help in designing a page. Some of us are whiz bang scrappers. Their pages take much longer than mine but are constructed in a very "professional" way. As for me, I prefer a little more of a "slaphappy" look. It’s my style and I would prefer my pages be more unique to me than have a designer look. I love, however, looking at and admiring the more "designed" pages. Currently, I’m working on scrapping the photos from the cruise my son and I took a couple of years ago. I just finished a few nice pages of photos of Bridge Day, 1998. Bridge Day is held every October in Fayette County (where my father grew up), West Virginia, at the New River Gorge Bridge. It’s the only day of the year that folks can actually strap a big wad of nylon to their backs and jump off the bridge. It’s all about B.A.S.E. jumpers who are, in my opinion, some of the more extreme adrenaline junkies. This past October there was a death. A parachute wasn't opened or didn’t open in time for it to fully deploy and the jumper (a 66 year old man) was too close to the bottom. The bridge is 876 feet high above the New River. You only have about 3 seconds of free fall before you must open your chute.
It’s an interesting event to witness. Maybe I'll post some pics of my pages next week. I'm really looking forward to this weekend. I'm reading a wonderful non-fiction book called "A Street in Marrakech" which will be discussed next Wednesday at the meeting of the Int'l Literary Colloquy. This semester our reading is by authors from Morocco. Wonderful!

I miss Haiti.....

My downstairs bathroom is decorated with art brought back from Haiti and Costa Rica. I would love to return to Haiti some day soon. I haven't visited Haiti in almost 15 years. Still, I remember every detail of my visits there (she says as she wonders just how long that kind of memory lasts). I tasted my first mango in Haiti. The only time I have tasted the juice of a freshly split coconut was in Haiti. My first experience translating English to English (which I do quite a bit of now) was in Haiti. I was dining with a French man and a man from the Deep South, USA. The Frenchman couldn't understand most of the Southerner's word. He would look at me and I would pronounce the words sans accent and he would smile, nod, and say "Ahhhh."
Those were some good times in my life.
Tonight I will view the Iranian movie, Day Break. This film is part of the Film Movement Film Series wherein independent films are shown every other Tuesday. They are free and I enjoy them. The printed synopsis of tonight's movie reads: "In Iran, capital punishment is carried out according to Islamic law, which gives the family of the victim ownership of the offender's life. Day Break, based on a compilation of true stories and shot inside Tehran's century-old prison, revoles around the imminent execution of mansour, a man found guilty of murder. When the family of the victim repeatedly fails to show up on the appointed day, Mansour's execution is postponed again and again. Stuck inside the purgatory of his own mind, he waits as time passes on without him, caught between life and death, retribution and forgiveness.
Can you imagine what life might be like for criminals in the U.S. if victims owned their lives and made the decision on sentencing? Hmmmmmm.

Homeless Possessions

As I’ve said before, I live on a street which is a convenient thoroughfare from downtown Knoxville to the Strip, near campus. The homeless walk this street often, gathering aluminum cans from dumpsters, and heading to the Strip to hang out, beg for money, purchase alcohol, etc. I have found things between my house and the house next door that a homeless person has "stashed," intending to come back later and retrieve. There’s an old bicycle that’s still leaning against the house next door that was left over 2 years ago. No one ever came back for the bike. It could have been stolen but it was already pretty old and rusty. Now it's ready for the dump. Someone came along and removed a wheel. I keep meaning to set it out on the street for trash pick-up. The shoes are fairly new. They've only been hanging out in the back of the house in a pile of leaves for about one year. One time someone left their backpack stuffed beside the concrete stairs leading to the kitchen of the house next door for a few days. It became wet with rain before someone either came back for it or saw it and took it. Oftentimes, something will be "stashed" and if the person is inebriated or under the influence of drugs at the time, the location of their precious stash will be lost somewhere in their minds. This happened with a full trash bag of aluminum cans, also stowed beside the side stairs beside my house. It stayed there for three weeks before I branded it "forgotten." I then gave it to a homeless man whom I see often very early in the mornings canvassing the neighborhood dumpsters for cans. He was very appreciative. There’s money in aluminum.

First of February, First Knoxville Snow

Snow. Just a little. More snow is expected tonight. I’m not stressed, though. I have an adequate supply of milk and bread.
My temporary housemate is leaving me today and moving into her own apt. It’s been a wonderful experience for me because now I know that I can be perfectly content with someone living in the house other than my son. She’s been a nice addition to the house for the past 2.5 weeks. There are things I"ll miss. I’ll miss her saying, in Georgian, "Tza val, da vi ban" (I will go take a shower now) or "Tza val da vi zee neb" (I’m going to go to sleep now). I’ll miss the times she cooked dinner (which happened more times than I cooked!). I’ll miss her company in the evenings when we sat on the couches and knitted (she, wonderful scarves and hats; me, lopsided little dishrags) and watched American Idol’s wacky auditions. I’ll especially miss the times she took out the trash. :) I’ll miss coming home from work and seeing her hang her head over the upstairs bannister and call out, "Hello!" I'll miss how nice and tidy she kept my son's former bedroom (it'll soon be all male and messy when N moves back in). Sigh. Yeah, it’s only been a couple of weeks and she’s just moving about 20 feet to the left of my house. Still.
When I lived in Georgia in the mid-80's I had a habit of calling my friend, Connie, and asking what she was having for dinner. Then I’d say, "Okay, what time do you want me to be there?" Maybe I should get back in this habit. It worked well for me in the past. :)