I'm in a strange state of ambivalence at the moment - one part of me feels like it wants to stay inside and watch old movies, cook a good meal and drink some good wine, while the other is frantic and anxious for any opportunity to run hysterically from the quiet comfort of my house.
It's 9:00pm on a Friday night, the first day of my 4-day weekend (due to a festival on Monday, school is closed). I woke up this morning after a night of a bit too much vino feeling quite good, considering, and did some yoga before washing up and sitting down to a good breakfast. I realized this week that I'd earned a little more in September than I'd anticipated, so I decided I can squeeze a new winter coat out of this month's budget, and this is the weekend I chose to do my coat shopping. I've now returned from my coat search empty-handed and strangely frazzled from the experience. I feel like crying, and I don't know why.
I really need people. It blows my mind how strong my conviction is to avoid calling people just for the sake of company. I convince myself that I'm happier alone, that I can be more productive if I stay home, that I don't want to stay out late at night and waste the next day's morning, that I'll just be bored when I meet up with whoever for drinks...knowing full well that's a load of BS. Is this social anxiety disorder?? Do I need professional help, or just a good gal pal?
The situation is dire: I will not make it through 4 days of free time without a single conversation with a live, face-to-face human. Just being in the shops today for 3 hours or so, alone with my headphones plugged in to avoid having to talk to any of the shop clerks, was enough to set me on edge. I feel like I want to jump off a cliff. Or into a good chat...preferably with someone who doesn't suck.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
A little gloom never hurt anybody
How personal should you allow yourself to be via blog?? I'm a person who never wanted to be the type of person who blogs (judgmental, maybe?), but I succumbed about 2 years ago, citing the excuse that it's an easy way to update friends and family, all at once, while living abroad. Easy enough justification. Yet no matter how surface-level I try to keep things when I'm writing a new post, some part of me wants to slide into introspection - perhaps due to the cathartic nature of the writing process itself, but I'm afraid it's also because the only time I find to blog is when I'm B-O-R-E-D, (a.k.a. - a little bit depressed).
So, disclaimer: this one is going to be a bit personal, a bit of a purge of self doubts and insecurities and unneccessary worries, although to be point-blank honest about the current state of my life in all sectors (professional, romantic, physical/health), most people have the right to kick me for complaining.
But first, I want to give thanks (to keep things in balance, of course):
Since moving to Spain, I've come into myself. It no longer seems weird to call myself a "woman," and though I don't even know what the world's definition of that is anymore, I'm proud to say I've got my own and I fit it to a T. I'm not afraid of the future anymore, and I'm not sure if that's just a milestone that comes for everyone at a certain point in life or if it's something to feel good about that I've reached it at all, and especially so young. Whatever the reason, I feel secure in myself and my place in the world - and I'm humbled daily by what a big, big world it is, and what a small, small place I hold. This is not to say that I'm naiive, that I think because life is going so well for me now that nothing bad could ever change it all, but just to say I'm thankful to have what I do, and to be open enough to recognize and appreciate it.
That being said, despite all the positive self-development that's happened since moving abroad, I'm shockingly aware as the months drift by of my inequities, namely my glaring lack of a social life. There are things that I want for myself (hello - friends!!!) and that, though I know what I want and how to get it, for the life of me, I can't bring myself to just go out there and get. And I wonder, if I'm so sure that I'm sure about who I am at this point in my life, what's stopping me from making my life not just what I'm comfortable with but what I wholeheartedly want it to be? Some possible culprits come to mind:
1) Laziness
I love my father and that side of my family to a ridiculous degree, but of course love comes with seeing and accepting the faults of the ones you care about. I'm not blind to my father's family's lazy streak - which is so acknowledged amongst the Knox's as to be joked about as if it were an inherited trait. Making light of our faults is fine and all, but I've secretly always been terrified of being lazy. This logically has more to do with my mother and stepfather constantly telling me and my older brother we were lazy-ass good-for-nothings who didn't appreciate what we had. I grew up with my mother and didn't have contact with my father or his family thoughout my formative years, and so never knew their laziness until I was adult enough to see it for what it was, which is fortunate I guess. But in the back of my mind, as scary as it is to admit, I'd be remiss to ignore my inner sloth that, when the heat is on, wants to just retreat under the covers and sleep til 4:00pm, or until someone just happens to come along or call me and I have a reason to get out of bed. It's fine to joke about a behavior as an inherited trait, but I think my laziness is genetic - otherwise, how do you explain my being lazy if I never had the "nurture" side from my father's influence? My mother might be a nut-bag, but she's anything but lazy; my father's Achilles heel is undoubtedly his laziness. So, admission is the first step. Now what??
2) Fear
I think I've always been afraid, deep down to my core, of other people. I'm afraid of what they think, afraid of creating conflict, afraid of disappointing others and missing out on opportunties. Lately, my laziness and my fear have been having fireside get-togethers, collaborating and having a fine old time getting to know one another, so now when one has a 'great idea,' the other's always there to back him up for support. When fear sets out to prevent me from putting myself out there, from strolling down to the neighborhood bar where my friend works just because I have nothing better to do than buy a beer so I can chat with her for an hour, my laziness kicks in and says, "Eh, you'd rather not go down there anyway - the conversation is always mediocre." I justify my own chicken-shitness (fear of looking like a retard in front of my friend because I go in there all the time by myself, so eventually she'll notice I'm probably just lonely or bored - both true) by convincing myself I'm happier to spend almost my entire weekend at home, alone in my room playing guitar or wasting time on the internet. Trouble is, though I'm completely aware of this and I know exactly what I want (to make new friends that I can count on, and to have "social outing options" at least 4 nights a week) and what I need to do to make it happen (go out more, call the few friends that I have more, make myself more available, etc.), something always stops me from it because I feel vulnerable and I hate feeling like that. Fear, like everything in life, is cyclical.
I hate that every time I write about insecurities it sounds like I need to read a self-help book. I guess the point of all this is to chronicle the fact that this stuff is in my head, too, despite the many good things which I write about in my blog, which are in no way diminished by the presence of negativity from time to time. I'm still generally happy, but there's always room for improvement, right? Hopefully, my improvement at this stage will come in the way I want it to, and like everything in life, I'll have to get around to putting some effort into it. Otherwise, it won't be worth a euro-cent.
So, disclaimer: this one is going to be a bit personal, a bit of a purge of self doubts and insecurities and unneccessary worries, although to be point-blank honest about the current state of my life in all sectors (professional, romantic, physical/health), most people have the right to kick me for complaining.
But first, I want to give thanks (to keep things in balance, of course):
Since moving to Spain, I've come into myself. It no longer seems weird to call myself a "woman," and though I don't even know what the world's definition of that is anymore, I'm proud to say I've got my own and I fit it to a T. I'm not afraid of the future anymore, and I'm not sure if that's just a milestone that comes for everyone at a certain point in life or if it's something to feel good about that I've reached it at all, and especially so young. Whatever the reason, I feel secure in myself and my place in the world - and I'm humbled daily by what a big, big world it is, and what a small, small place I hold. This is not to say that I'm naiive, that I think because life is going so well for me now that nothing bad could ever change it all, but just to say I'm thankful to have what I do, and to be open enough to recognize and appreciate it.
That being said, despite all the positive self-development that's happened since moving abroad, I'm shockingly aware as the months drift by of my inequities, namely my glaring lack of a social life. There are things that I want for myself (hello - friends!!!) and that, though I know what I want and how to get it, for the life of me, I can't bring myself to just go out there and get. And I wonder, if I'm so sure that I'm sure about who I am at this point in my life, what's stopping me from making my life not just what I'm comfortable with but what I wholeheartedly want it to be? Some possible culprits come to mind:
1) Laziness
I love my father and that side of my family to a ridiculous degree, but of course love comes with seeing and accepting the faults of the ones you care about. I'm not blind to my father's family's lazy streak - which is so acknowledged amongst the Knox's as to be joked about as if it were an inherited trait. Making light of our faults is fine and all, but I've secretly always been terrified of being lazy. This logically has more to do with my mother and stepfather constantly telling me and my older brother we were lazy-ass good-for-nothings who didn't appreciate what we had. I grew up with my mother and didn't have contact with my father or his family thoughout my formative years, and so never knew their laziness until I was adult enough to see it for what it was, which is fortunate I guess. But in the back of my mind, as scary as it is to admit, I'd be remiss to ignore my inner sloth that, when the heat is on, wants to just retreat under the covers and sleep til 4:00pm, or until someone just happens to come along or call me and I have a reason to get out of bed. It's fine to joke about a behavior as an inherited trait, but I think my laziness is genetic - otherwise, how do you explain my being lazy if I never had the "nurture" side from my father's influence? My mother might be a nut-bag, but she's anything but lazy; my father's Achilles heel is undoubtedly his laziness. So, admission is the first step. Now what??
2) Fear
I think I've always been afraid, deep down to my core, of other people. I'm afraid of what they think, afraid of creating conflict, afraid of disappointing others and missing out on opportunties. Lately, my laziness and my fear have been having fireside get-togethers, collaborating and having a fine old time getting to know one another, so now when one has a 'great idea,' the other's always there to back him up for support. When fear sets out to prevent me from putting myself out there, from strolling down to the neighborhood bar where my friend works just because I have nothing better to do than buy a beer so I can chat with her for an hour, my laziness kicks in and says, "Eh, you'd rather not go down there anyway - the conversation is always mediocre." I justify my own chicken-shitness (fear of looking like a retard in front of my friend because I go in there all the time by myself, so eventually she'll notice I'm probably just lonely or bored - both true) by convincing myself I'm happier to spend almost my entire weekend at home, alone in my room playing guitar or wasting time on the internet. Trouble is, though I'm completely aware of this and I know exactly what I want (to make new friends that I can count on, and to have "social outing options" at least 4 nights a week) and what I need to do to make it happen (go out more, call the few friends that I have more, make myself more available, etc.), something always stops me from it because I feel vulnerable and I hate feeling like that. Fear, like everything in life, is cyclical.
I hate that every time I write about insecurities it sounds like I need to read a self-help book. I guess the point of all this is to chronicle the fact that this stuff is in my head, too, despite the many good things which I write about in my blog, which are in no way diminished by the presence of negativity from time to time. I'm still generally happy, but there's always room for improvement, right? Hopefully, my improvement at this stage will come in the way I want it to, and like everything in life, I'll have to get around to putting some effort into it. Otherwise, it won't be worth a euro-cent.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Among (many) other things...
October has arrived.
Professionally, this year has been great. For the record, having a full-time position kicks way more ass than piecing your schedule together hour-by-hour in the first few months of teaching, when it's never a complete month's worth of classes anyway so you have to prepare for small(er) paychecks. I'm teaching 4 full-to-the-brim group classes (12-13 students each) at my main academy, and rounding out the week with a few 1:1's for that school and also some for my other school, with three students that I worked with last year who asked specifically for me again this year :) I've hit the ground running as of September 14 with a whopping 22-hrs/week, which ain't peanuts for a teacher's schedule. I count this as a success, and if I ever feel tired or worn out at the end of the day, my solace is in the recollection of the 40+ hours per week that I used to put in when I lived in the States - I truly don't understand why the American population doesn't just up and riot in the streets the way Europeans do about being overworked. I think they'd be surprised how effectively it could change the way of life there, for the better of most individuals. Also a plus this year is the fact that 2 days a week, my day starts at 4:00pm!! And the other 2 days, it's 12:00noon, and then on Fridays I've got one 1:1 class at 6:15pm that's so easy to teach I could sleep through it. Viva Espana!!
As for the specifics of my classes, I couldn't be happier. While 1:1's are my bread and butter (it's like Jerry Macguire when he says, "Send me into the living room - it's my thing."), and while I may have had more than one near nervous breakdown in the first week of group classes this year (going cold-turkey, from no classes for 2 months, outside of cheeky camp kids, to 12 pairs of adult eyes staring back at you which are each paying a shitload of money for your language instruction, can be quite unsettling), I have somehow found my niche in front of groups. Sure, there are days when I feel like planning straight out of a coursebook is a complete and utter cop-out, which of course makes me feel like a failure of a teacher, but most of the time it's days when I still plan out of the coursebook but by being a few simple steps ahead of the students, I can grab their attention and hold it for an hour and a half solid. I'm learning to be less of a perfectionist, I guess, and to cut myself a little slack - meaning, the coursebooks are there for you to use them, so why make work harder than it needs to be by trying to come up with a lesson plan all on your own?? (Note: this is what I have ALWAYS tried and struggled to do, since Day 1 of my TEFL course. BAD IDEA!! It just means MORE WORK, and not necessarily better work.) Meanwhile, I'm still able to answer any quick-fire question thrown my way ("How do you translate the word 'just' into Spanish?" or "Why isn't "helpful" the opposite of "helpless"?), and I get a little rush in my chest, seeing the impressed looks on my students faces when I'm able to just lay it out for them.
In other news, I've moved into a new house - wow, I guess I should have led off with that. I felt like staying in Granada another year was a bit cowardly, so in order to keep challenging myself I set a goal of NOT moving back into Casa de Tina, where I spent the last year and some-odd months. I have fond memories of that place, of course, but then again it had its problems. I arrived back in Granada after a week of much-needed summer camp deflation in Madrid, homeless and about to start work in 5 days. Some friends of Pierre let me crash at their awesome 2-story condo high up above the city while I looked for apartments, and luck was definitely on my side when I called the first ad I saw on Loquo.com for a piso in the Albayzin (my old neighborhood). I went in and immediately fell in love with the place, which had all the charm and history of the Albayzin carmens but was much better cared for and peaceful than my last accommodations. I told the landlord I was very interested but still not sure, and then 2 hours afterwards while walking around and mulling it over, I called and said I'd take it. I've got a private bedroom in a 3-bedroom house (1 of which is the landlord, Ana's, and another which was recently rented to a nice woman from Greece, here studying for her Doctorate), with shared bathroom (with a tub!), salon, and kitchen. The best part - my room opens up with double doors to a terrace that runs the length of the whole house and lets in wonderful sunshine, and there's enough space in my room to do yoga here :)
I'm really happy in my new place, but it's strange how uncomfortable I feel sometimes around my housemates. I guess that's just a part of communal living, and especially doing it in a foreign language, it's bound to be a bit weird at first. But what's funny is how little speaking Spanish plays a part in any discomfort for me now. Sometimes I find myself alone, thinking or mumbling some off-hand comment, and it comes first in Spanish. ("Que fuerte!?") And I never feel pressured or awkward or locked inside myself from speaking Spanish, the way I did when in France for example or when I first got here to Spain - if I struggle for a word, I just blatantly ask what it is and someone tells me. I file it away and move on through the conversation. I guess my tolerance for this comes from more confidence in my Spanish and also from the time being forced to use it, and maybe also from the classroom where I'm constantly reminded and forced to sympathize with how difficult it is to try to express yourself in another language. Anyway, the awkwardness with Ana and the Greek lady (don't even know her name! but we've had at least 5 lengthy conversations so far, makes me feel really bad!) gets better every day, with every occasion that we have to speak to one another (sometimes there's just no need, so I don't initiate - I think this is part of my problem. I'm sheepish.). Ana and her girlfriend, Yolanda, who's here so often she practically lives here, asked me the other day what state I'm from, and when I said not Louisiana but New Orleans, they flipped out! They were asking me all these questions about Katrina and carnaval (Mardi Gras to us cajuns), about the food and the architecture. I told them when the weather gets cold, if I can find the right ingredients, I'd try to make them my MawMaw's gumbo :)
As for negatives, the weather's getting cold now and my skin's drying out. But I've found a loophole for healthcare through the Spanish system, if I can get my landlord to file the paperwork for me, so maybe I'll get to see a dermatologist here in the next few months! Plus a dentist, a gyno, an allergist (!!!). Hallelujah, eh? All is not lost. Also, Pierre will be moving here from France in a few weeks, so I won't be so lonely in my free time anymore.
That's about it, as for updates. Hope this wasn't too boring!!
Professionally, this year has been great. For the record, having a full-time position kicks way more ass than piecing your schedule together hour-by-hour in the first few months of teaching, when it's never a complete month's worth of classes anyway so you have to prepare for small(er) paychecks. I'm teaching 4 full-to-the-brim group classes (12-13 students each) at my main academy, and rounding out the week with a few 1:1's for that school and also some for my other school, with three students that I worked with last year who asked specifically for me again this year :) I've hit the ground running as of September 14 with a whopping 22-hrs/week, which ain't peanuts for a teacher's schedule. I count this as a success, and if I ever feel tired or worn out at the end of the day, my solace is in the recollection of the 40+ hours per week that I used to put in when I lived in the States - I truly don't understand why the American population doesn't just up and riot in the streets the way Europeans do about being overworked. I think they'd be surprised how effectively it could change the way of life there, for the better of most individuals. Also a plus this year is the fact that 2 days a week, my day starts at 4:00pm!! And the other 2 days, it's 12:00noon, and then on Fridays I've got one 1:1 class at 6:15pm that's so easy to teach I could sleep through it. Viva Espana!!
As for the specifics of my classes, I couldn't be happier. While 1:1's are my bread and butter (it's like Jerry Macguire when he says, "Send me into the living room - it's my thing."), and while I may have had more than one near nervous breakdown in the first week of group classes this year (going cold-turkey, from no classes for 2 months, outside of cheeky camp kids, to 12 pairs of adult eyes staring back at you which are each paying a shitload of money for your language instruction, can be quite unsettling), I have somehow found my niche in front of groups. Sure, there are days when I feel like planning straight out of a coursebook is a complete and utter cop-out, which of course makes me feel like a failure of a teacher, but most of the time it's days when I still plan out of the coursebook but by being a few simple steps ahead of the students, I can grab their attention and hold it for an hour and a half solid. I'm learning to be less of a perfectionist, I guess, and to cut myself a little slack - meaning, the coursebooks are there for you to use them, so why make work harder than it needs to be by trying to come up with a lesson plan all on your own?? (Note: this is what I have ALWAYS tried and struggled to do, since Day 1 of my TEFL course. BAD IDEA!! It just means MORE WORK, and not necessarily better work.) Meanwhile, I'm still able to answer any quick-fire question thrown my way ("How do you translate the word 'just' into Spanish?" or "Why isn't "helpful" the opposite of "helpless"?), and I get a little rush in my chest, seeing the impressed looks on my students faces when I'm able to just lay it out for them.
In other news, I've moved into a new house - wow, I guess I should have led off with that. I felt like staying in Granada another year was a bit cowardly, so in order to keep challenging myself I set a goal of NOT moving back into Casa de Tina, where I spent the last year and some-odd months. I have fond memories of that place, of course, but then again it had its problems. I arrived back in Granada after a week of much-needed summer camp deflation in Madrid, homeless and about to start work in 5 days. Some friends of Pierre let me crash at their awesome 2-story condo high up above the city while I looked for apartments, and luck was definitely on my side when I called the first ad I saw on Loquo.com for a piso in the Albayzin (my old neighborhood). I went in and immediately fell in love with the place, which had all the charm and history of the Albayzin carmens but was much better cared for and peaceful than my last accommodations. I told the landlord I was very interested but still not sure, and then 2 hours afterwards while walking around and mulling it over, I called and said I'd take it. I've got a private bedroom in a 3-bedroom house (1 of which is the landlord, Ana's, and another which was recently rented to a nice woman from Greece, here studying for her Doctorate), with shared bathroom (with a tub!), salon, and kitchen. The best part - my room opens up with double doors to a terrace that runs the length of the whole house and lets in wonderful sunshine, and there's enough space in my room to do yoga here :)
I'm really happy in my new place, but it's strange how uncomfortable I feel sometimes around my housemates. I guess that's just a part of communal living, and especially doing it in a foreign language, it's bound to be a bit weird at first. But what's funny is how little speaking Spanish plays a part in any discomfort for me now. Sometimes I find myself alone, thinking or mumbling some off-hand comment, and it comes first in Spanish. ("Que fuerte!?") And I never feel pressured or awkward or locked inside myself from speaking Spanish, the way I did when in France for example or when I first got here to Spain - if I struggle for a word, I just blatantly ask what it is and someone tells me. I file it away and move on through the conversation. I guess my tolerance for this comes from more confidence in my Spanish and also from the time being forced to use it, and maybe also from the classroom where I'm constantly reminded and forced to sympathize with how difficult it is to try to express yourself in another language. Anyway, the awkwardness with Ana and the Greek lady (don't even know her name! but we've had at least 5 lengthy conversations so far, makes me feel really bad!) gets better every day, with every occasion that we have to speak to one another (sometimes there's just no need, so I don't initiate - I think this is part of my problem. I'm sheepish.). Ana and her girlfriend, Yolanda, who's here so often she practically lives here, asked me the other day what state I'm from, and when I said not Louisiana but New Orleans, they flipped out! They were asking me all these questions about Katrina and carnaval (Mardi Gras to us cajuns), about the food and the architecture. I told them when the weather gets cold, if I can find the right ingredients, I'd try to make them my MawMaw's gumbo :)
As for negatives, the weather's getting cold now and my skin's drying out. But I've found a loophole for healthcare through the Spanish system, if I can get my landlord to file the paperwork for me, so maybe I'll get to see a dermatologist here in the next few months! Plus a dentist, a gyno, an allergist (!!!). Hallelujah, eh? All is not lost. Also, Pierre will be moving here from France in a few weeks, so I won't be so lonely in my free time anymore.
That's about it, as for updates. Hope this wasn't too boring!!
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