Cell phone junkie

Well, I survived. I challenged myself to go an entire day without a cell phone. Surprisingly, I did a lot better than expected. Although I don't like to admit it, I have succumb to the fact that I may or may not be a cell phone junkie. Classic symptoms of a Cell phone Junkie include: Hearing phantom rings, a sense of sadness when no one has called or texted, checking the screen every 2 seconds; God forbid during that last blink a call is missed; and of course going over the allotted minutes/texts for the month (unless you are truly sick, in which case you might have an unlimited monthly plan). It is truly unfortunate.

But! I like to think that since I didn't feel as anxious as I thought I would, I could survive without it (wait, that was only 1 day? shit.) I will admit it was kind of refreshing not being so available, if I wanted to contact someone it was up to me to figure it out...not the other way around. During my class that night, a sense of jealousy rushed over me when all my friends pulled out their blackberries and blueberries and igadgets during break. Is it sad that I felt out of touch? Questions kept popping into my head: Did anyone call me? Did anyone text me? Am I popular?? What if something bad happened? What if ANNA lost $50 in the dumpster and she needs a boost!? Either way, I got through the rest of the night with only a little anxiety.

By the time I got home I finally lit up the screen to find 5 missed calls and 6 text messages. I guess I am wanted after all.

This experiment got me thinking about time before cell phones. How did we manage last minute cancellations? Were people more prone to forgive if someone didn't show up for a coffee date? During the 1800's Kings and Queens used people as their cellphones, what a simple time. If only I had a town crier to let my friends know that I'm going to be late to the Christmas party. Now, there are no excuses; "Well, you could have called. I had my phone with me!" Is our patience and empathy level slowly declining because of the technology surrounding us? The other day my work email was running a tad slower than normal and I could feel fury building up inside, why? Time is money, as they say.

Either way this experiment was a good one. I now know that the world is NOT going to end if I don't have my cell phone. Then again, what if Pierce Brosnon calls and needs back up...?

Confession

Forgive me bloggers, for I have sinned. It has been 9 weeks since my last entry.

There has been much going on it's hard to know where to start.

I began my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) class at Hamline and in my best effort to keep up with my school work it has been hard to find time to pee let alone blog (an unlikely excuse). But, I have been kept very busy but I like it that way. I'm my most happy when I'm busy, it gives me a sense of purpose in a life that I'm still trying to figure out. Last week we had a discussion on intonation and tone when it comes to meaning in communicating. Although English is not an entirely tonal language like Mandarin, we still use rising and falling intonation to get across a point. I found the whole lesson fascinating because we discussed the differences in how a message is conveyed by the simple upward or downward slope either inside a sentence or inside a word. For instance:

I was having a discussion with my friend Drew and I asked him the question:

"Where does your sister live in Minneapolis?"

His response was "Yes". Now of course yes or no would not be an answer one would be looking for. Naturally I was confused so I asked him if he understood what I asked.

I repeated myself:

"Where does your sister live? In Minneapolis?" (A tag question, if you will)

Even though he heard the same words, he inferred a different meaning through the tone and pausing of how I said it.

Truly mind blowing stuff.

I just finished staining/varnishing my parents windows this weekend. It was a very long process but it was kind of theraputic. Once I got into the groove of the strokes, it was easy to zone out. A couple weeks ago I was finishing up the first coat of stain in my parents room and through the window I could see our neighbor Chu practicing T'ai Chi Chih. She is the nicest most sincere woman who is battling cancer at the moment. I paused to watch her glide through the air pushing out all the toxic energy and bringing in healing energy. I shed a tear not because I was sad for her but because the beauty in which she was using positive energy to heal her body.

Dumpster Diving

My 24th birthday came and went. As tradition, my very generous aunt gave me a check for a very generous amount. I thanked her and put the check in my wallet...or so I thought. A few days later I planned to take a trip to Wells Fargo to deposit the fruits later realizing my check was nowhere to be found. I tore apart my room knowing full well it was gone. I realized that the check was left in the envelope in which I received the card, which was in the same trash that had been taken out to the dumpster the day before. I was completely convinced it was gone from the clanging and banging of the garbage truck that seems to wake my slumber every morning at 5am. My mother informed me that if I were to have my aunt cancel the check I would be out $35, which I would of course pay for. I thought to myself, "Maybe the trash hadn't been picked up yet".

"I'm going diving!" was the text I sent my mother after my epiphany.

It was 8:30 am. I creaked my roommate Anna's door open to find her in a groggy morning stumble.

"Wanna do me a huge favor?" I asked her with a grimace.

"What is it?" she said giving me an unsure look.

I explained my pickle and she laughed while saying, "only you, Hannah"...this I could not argue with. After realizing what a ridiculous favor this was I told her she did not have to come, but she refused saying, "Oh you are not going out there alone, I don't want people thinking you're some crazy woman stealing people's identities" (I later thought to myself, if I were to find someones social security number on an old bank statement, I sure as hell wouldn't know what to do with it.) What a good friend she is.

As we made the trek down the stairs to Grand Ave., my stomach attacked me with nervous flips. I felt like The Goonies in search for gold, not knowing if it exists or not, but having faith nonetheless. I lifted the rusty door of the dumpster only to find it half full. A huge rush of relief washed over me because I knew at that moment the trash had not been taken that day. Anna boosted me into the smelly abyss while I screamed, "aaahh I'm in the garbage!" At that, a woman in her car pulled up next to us as she waited to turn onto Grand. When she saw me swimming in filth she gave us a uneasy look, rolled down her window and asked us nervously if we lived here. We both laughed and explained what was at stake. She smiled and belted, "Oh, well that makes sense...but it's a good thing I'm moving out this week". I didn't know whether to be offended or laugh it off.

I saw the target bag of which I threw in just the day before and excitement filled my face. Of course people began to come from every direction and gave us equally apprehensive looks but were quickly rest assured when we explained our hobo behavior. I removed a big medal object imprisoning the bag I needed and began digging. After shuffling through ripped up receipts and other important documents my mother insists should be shredded I found the envelope which I was lucky enough not have ripped in half. As I propped open the rigid top I saw the creased check sitting ever so pleasantly in the bottom. I screamed, "I got it! I got it!" while Anna clapped and laughed at my ridiculous feat.

As I climbed out of the metal bin I looked down and realized I was wearing flip-flops and my feet were naked while I trekked through the rubbish. At that point I really didn't care, it was totally worth it.

Things Fall Together

Apparently, in order for things to seem unclustered you must go through a period of chaos where everything doesn't seem to fit. My life is a series of chaos ironed out all at once. I was offered two jobs this past week along with another interview which I am waiting to hear back from. I'm pretty sure I nailed it. The position is editing documents that have been translated into English from other languages, so I would put my editing experience to good use. The job is in the translations department which, coincidentally enough, is at my mother's company, Merrill Corporation (she had nothing to do with the opportunity). When I arrived for the interview I was greeted by my temp agent who lead me to the department. She quickly introduced me to Michel (pronounced Mee-shell), the department head, and from the get go I immediatly liked him. His heavy swiss accent was a form of comfort to me because I love meeting people from places that I have visited in the past. After a very simple and laid back interview with Michel I offered to show him my portfolio which includes published articles, edited articles and photography. He was so impressed with my book he called over a couple of the other Merrill employees to show them my work. Although I can't deny being really proud of my work, the modest part of me felt uncomfortable showing the entirety of the office staff. They oohed and ahhed at my photographs and expressed their jealousy as to how many places I have been able to travel...I couldn't deny that fact, I've been pretty damn lucky to go where I have gone. At this point I felt as if I immedieatly fit in. Fingers crossed.

As much as I love my parents and their company, moving out was something I knew I needed to do. I love my apartment and there is always a natural sense of independence that follows being on your own, even though I've been on my own for the past 4 years. This move helped to push things into full swing. I also have a new found love for St. Paul to boot! Ironically, I've found a lot of aspects that I loved about Los Angeles sewn throughout the Grand/Summit stretch of St. Paul. The people in particular seem all around more friendly. It's almost as if I've moved to an entirely new state but a part of me feels that way even though my parents house is a quick hop down 280. Experiencing the city in which I grew up in has been a great one in the two weeks that I've lived here. It just seems like it was the puzzle piece I was missing to help finish the picture.

I've been accepted to Hamline's TEFL program today and I am so excited about the possibilities this opportunity will create.

More to come! Stay tuned.

St. Pauli Girl

I've officially moved into my new place on Grand. It's a really cute condo with a jet stream bath tub! It's going to be really exciting living in the heart of the city I grew up in. Hopefully a job will follow... I had an interview last week for an education assistant position at the Korean Service Center. It sounded like a really great job although I had most of the qualifications, in the end the fact that I don't speak a lick of Korean hindered my chances. Needless to say, I didn't get the job. It just wasn't meant for me. I just have to keep a positive attitude that something will come along. As of right now I just need a steady income then I can spend my time doing a lot of the things that I love like writing, photography, reading (I plan to start a book club) and not feel guilty about it. I realize that I shouldn't feel guilty about doing things that make me happy but for the time being I know I need to focus the entirety of my energy on a job hunt. I might be doing some work again for New Moon. The identity of the magazine has changed a lot, with most everything being online. In the meantime it will be nice to be back in the publishing world again.

Ni Hao

A passage I stumbled upon from my journal in Qingdao, China:

As a couple days passed of settling in, my traveling buddy Sarah and I decided to find a quaint restaurant for lunch. We stumbled upon what mimicked a shack with a chinese symbol that we had come to learn meant "Restaurant". The inside, no bigger than a classroom, smelled of fresh fish clearly just caught from the ocean not four miles from where we stood. My immediate inclination was communicating in English was not going to be an easy one.

"Ni hao!" spoke the tiny smiling woman behind the fish counter.

"Ni hao!" Sarah and I timidly replied.

Through several hand gestures and sign language both parties came to the conclusion that a table for two was indeed what we wanted. As we opened our menus the only thing we could rely on were the pictures. We used what little Chinese we had learned in class, "pijio", or beer, being our favorite word of the day. Through another series of pointing and pantomiming with the waitress we proudly basked in our ability to communicate what we wanted. Little did we know lunch was not going to be so little.

Roughly 15 minutes later, in one fell swoop, a large pot of fish head soup, echoing a bucket of chum on a fisherman's boat, was laid before us. Both of us, jaw dropped, looked around at fellow patrons of this restaurant and keeled over laughing. Apparently the pictures were very deceiving as to what we actually ordered. Next came a bowl of rice big enough to feed the entirety of the restaurant. We continued to gawk as a pile of garlic stems (one of my favorite dishes) adorned the rest of our feast. We sat back not quite knowing if more was to come but after a few minutes we grabbed our chopsticks and dug in. This was not the first time we had fish head soup and it was certainly my favorite of all the dishes I tried. The meat is especially tasty within the cheeks, the Chinese cuisine is full of pleasant surprises.

After putting a miniscule dent in the dishes our fish head soup was poured in plastic bag and we walked out as if we were proudly leaving a pet store with a brand new beta fish. It was a moment we both vowed to share only in our memories as we both managed to forget our cameras. Shucks.

Fearing fear

I've cracked...I am officially reading a self-help book. Scary. I know. I always steered clear of that section of Barnes & Noble but for some reason I was drawn to "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway". I had a discussion with a friend the other day about fear. Fear can come in a lot of different forms. Fear of failure, fear of the unknowing, and something that surprised me while reading this book is the fear of succeeding. I've never really thought of it in those terms. Sometimes it's just as frightening to succeed at something than it would be to fail. I think there are most expectations placed on your shoulders when achieving your goal...the "what's next?" questions is brought up. I've read stories about the depression some people feel after reaching a goal such as receiving a PhD...they're at the top and aren't quite sure what's next.

A passion for people.

For some reason I had a hard time sleeping last night, I've got a lot on my mind and a lot of pressure on myself to figure everything out. I really don't think it's something that will happen over night. I started looking over my portfolio and damnit I have a lot of good stuff...I just need to start showing it off! My eye is most drawn to the photography and as soon as I start to get an income again I am saving up for an SLR camera. I think an investment will help to boost my morale as a photographer and I can share what my eye captures with you!

This is my favorite picture of the Chinese people that I captured during my time in China. The brightness of the sun shining on the elderly man's red coat lights up the smiling faces surrounding him. I was lucky enough to find the most genuine moment when all of the people were at their happiest. Photography isn't just just being able to line up the perfect shot but I believe there also must be a high level of instinct and timing (especially when it comes to people). The image captured here was immediately after he finished what I can only call a Chinese "rap", everyone was engrossed with what this 5 foot man had to say. Marvelous. It really is the little things.

A passion for people. I love to expose the special moments when people are at their most honest and sincere. As I was walking the streets of Edinburgh, Scotland, I came upon this manand his dog doing the simplest of acts: making a living. He, playing music. His dog, collecting the fruits. The dog's faithfulness to his owner was present and he knew the money that entered the hat he held in his mouth would eventually be traded in for food. They both did an equal share; teamwork. They trust each other. A sincere earned emotion.

This photo reminds me of the movie Once. If you haven't seen this wonderful film you should do so immediately. The music speaks for the story. Just like this photo speaks for their story.

While visiting Confucius Temple in Qufu, I spotted this little girl collecting empty bottles along the street. I attempted to give her money but she wouldn't accept it. I later learned in the Chinese culture, collecting recyclable bottles in exchange for money is a much more respectable form of living than begging for money. There was a maturity and obedience in her eyes that I've never seen in a girl of her age; an old soul. She held my hand as she followed us back to her mother with a bag full of bottles.

Taking a stab...

So. This is my first blog. I think the idea always scared me because as a writer I've really only kept personal stories for my journal...something most girls don't like to display for all the world to see (why do you think they sell a lock and key for those things?). But! I thought what the hell do I have to lose, maybe something creative will sprout in the process. So here I am...blogging my diary for all to see. Vulnerable? Yes. Willing? Hell yes.

At this time in my life I've come to a cross road. Most people will call it "the crossroad that leads into adulthood", and you wanna know another thing; it's fucking scary. It's a time when I should be grabbing life by the horns but sometimes I want to tell the bull to run like hell! A good or a bad thing, depending on which way you look at it I suppose. It's an interesting thing being in limbo. They say the hardest times are the times most soul searching begins. My life has always been encompassed in what I would like to call a journey because like most journey's not everything goes as planned, there are obstacles and hoops to jump through but it's the journey, not the destination, that molds us into who we are. I think an "obstacle" I'm faced with right now is pinning down exactly what it is I have a passion for. Although this is easy for some people, I find that I have entirely too many passions that I'm as distracted as a dog searching for his ball on the beach (thanks Otto :) I tend to love a lot of things and for some reason I find excuses for not following them and I'm tired of it. I hope in the progression of this blog that maybe I'll find out why. With a flip flop on one foot and a sneaker on the other, I am officially a passion seeker and I suppose you'll be going on this journey with me to find it.

Here we go!