Now and Then

I'm sure I've probably posted some of these before, but I was digging through old photos on my computer from my previous life in Illinois, getting all nostalgic, and I couldn't resist. Good times!

Also, I miss having those friends around :(

Classic Cars

I am not at all a car person. I know nothing about them, and as long as my car gets me to where I'm going and doesn't lose pieces on the way, I'm happy.

However, I will admit that the bright shiny restored classic ones can be a LOT of fun to take pictures of. There was a classic car show at the multicultural festival I attended recently (see entries below), and I had a lot of fun photographing the cars.

The results are below.

Silver Linings and Clouds

It's been a whirlwind of a week but I've finally managed to pull all my shit together and get back on track, school-wise at least. And Thursday I came home to find a surprise waiting in the mail--my sister sent me an iPad! She bought a new iPad 2, so she sent me her older iPad. Not that I'm complaining or anything--I love it and there is no way I would EVER have been able to buy something like that on my own. So I've spent the last few days playing with my new toy, getting it all set up and downloading ebooks onto it.

It's actually really nice because it means that this summer when I go to Afghanistan, I won't have to drag a bunch of books with me--I can just bring my iPad!

However, there was one negative aspect to the gift--it meant that I had to call my sister to thank her. As usual, it didn't take long for our conversation to deteriorate into an argument. So that's the way it ended. And that is why I only talk to her on birthdays and Christmas.

We see the world through very different lenses, and with her being so much older than me (almost five years--not a lot now but a biiiiig difference when we were growing up), she feels the need to constantly instruct me in how I should be living my life and is not afraid to point it out when she feels I am making a mistake. Which is often. Because living a life different from hers is apparently a mistake. Also she keeps trying to get me to work with her, which I have no intention of ever doing.

Sigh.

Every silver lining comes with a cloud.

Slowly starting to dig myself out of my latest hole. Guess it is possible, after all...

TMY Festival 2011

Here are a smattering of the many, many, many photos I took today at the annual Tucson Meet Yourself Festival.

Enjoy!

Where I proceed to screw up my life again

All last year I kept hovering on the brink of dropping out of grad school. Then when I finally manged to (miraculously) survive the whole year (mostly intact), I thought, “This is it. Beyond the point of no return. I have to finish the program now. Smooth sailing from here on out.”

Then two months ago the new term started, and everything was going along swimmingly. All my problems were in the past, graduation was a certainty, and my thesis project idea was approved with far less reservations than it had gotten last year.

Then came this week.

Right now I’m hovering on the brink of dropping out again.

I had a paper due in class Monday that I just could not for the LIFE of me do (see earlier entries). I finally ended up staying up most of the night Sunday to work on it, then went to bed with it mostly but not completely done, set my alarm for a few hours later then proceeded to forget TO TURN IT ON and as a result slept through class. After that I was scared to face my teacher because at 27 years old I’m still a gigantic wussie, so I didn’t even email her about it. After that I had even more trouble finishing the effing thing, so I didn’t get it done and turned in via email until Wednesday afternoon. Then yesterday I got an answering email from her informing me that as per the syllabus, I had missed the late deadline (by the next class time, apparently) and as a result my paper, which is worth a whopping 20% of our grade, would not count because she couldn’t accept it. So I will be getting a big fat zero on it.

FML.

And it’s too late to withdraw from the class even if that were an option; that date already passed.

I made an appointment to talk to her on Monday before class, but I’m not hopeful.

As if that’s not bad enough, I have a presentation on the paper and my research topic for the class on Monday, which I have absolutely NO idea how to do, and I really really suck at presentations. I get super nervous, and my voice dries up and gets all shaky and my brain freezes and stops working. So that would have been a giant mess even without this conflict with my professor which will make me even more of a nervous wreck.

And yes, I believe there is a conflict. She’s my committee chair for my thesis and I keep getting the impression that she doesn’t think much of me — I was getting those vibes from her even before this whole debacle. Which is fair, to be honest. I don’t think much of me either. But it doesn’t make dealing with her any easier. I have absolutely no self-confidence of any kind, so basically any sort of interaction with anyone, especially an authority figure or someone I respect is already really difficult for me, and if I know that they don’t like me it just makes dealing with them that much more nerve-wracking for me.

The really sad thing about this whole mess is that I really was doing quite well before I shot myself in the foot. And the really really sad thing is that this whole shooting-myself-in-the-foot thing is something I’ve been doing repeatedly since college. I almost didn’t graduate my senior year because I freaked out and couldn’t get anything done and almost failed one of my classes.

The reason why I keep sabotaging myself like this? Well, my amateur psychoanalytical opinion is that I don’t know how to handle success, and it scares me. I can do failure—I’ve been failing at things my whole life. I know how to do that. But success? I have zero experience at it, and I’m afraid that it will lead to responsibilities and experiences that I don’t think I can handle. So just when everything is going well and proceeding as planned, which will lead to increased responsibility, I subconsciously sabotage myself, thus placing myself solidly in the middle of the pack (or more accurately, closer to the bottom of the middle), which I see as a safe place to be. That way nobody expects anything from me and I can be invisible among the masses.

I have issues. Clearly.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I just dug myself another enormous hole, and this time I don’t know how to climb out the way I always have in the past.

Sooo...

Sooo....I didn't end up getting that report finished by class time, so I didn't go to class. Then I left with barely enough time to make it to campus, find parking, and slide into my seat about 30 seconds before my Persian class started. Then, instead of staying around campus until my last class as usual, I drove home. Then I decided I didn't want to go to class so here I am, sitting on my futon 13 minutes into my class.

Why do I do these things? I have a tendency to dig myself into these holes that I just make deeper and deeper. Today I made one mistake, then kept adding to it until it got to the point that I'm now hiding in my apartment watching old episodes of Psych instead of sitting in class like I should be.

The only silver lining is that somehow I always manage to dig myself out again, but usually only after much angst and agony.

Why is it so much easier to hide out and dig myself deeper instead of getting my shit together and taking care of what needs done?

I seriously need to learn how to screw my courage to its' sticking point.

Busier and Busier

Grah!!!! Right now I'm writing as a desperate attempt at procrastination. School has suddenly gotten insanely busy and I have a major report due on the humanitarian crisis in Afghanistan in class at noon tomorrow that I've barely started on. I'm still trying to figure out how to research it because, in case you haven't noticed, everything about Afghanistan is insanely complicated and there's been a ton of stuff written about it in the past decade. Sorting through everything is going to take hours; then I have to actually write the report. Grah!!!!

This past week was nuts too. I spent the first three days of the week buried in the multimedia lab working on a project for Border Beat that was due Wed. evening. I was working on a video on Final Cut Express, which is what took so long. Final Cut is the devil. I can spend two hours shooting a project, then spend 20+ hours in the lab and end up with a 3-minute video. It's insane. I literally spent every minute of those three days when I wasn't in class (or sleeping for the 4 - 5 hours a night I allowed myself) in the lab editing my video.

On the plus side I'm finally starting to master Final Cut. Of course, they did just release a new version this summer that by all accounts is completely different...

I just can't win.

As if that wasn't enough stress, I had a quiz in Persian on Monday, with the oral version on Friday. I hate oral exams! They're so nerve-wracking! Fortunately it ended up being much easier than I had thought it would be, and afterwards my teacher told me that I did okay. Whew. At least that's one less thing to worry about.

Now I just have two presentations, this report, and several more upcoming projects for Border Beat to worry about. Looks like I'm going to be spending a lot more time in the labs...and saying goodbye to sleep!

Grad school is hard.

Update: last night some jackass stole the tires off my bike. And I can't afford new ones. So much for that...

Hiking, Waterfalls, and Rocks

This past weekend one of my friends invited me to go hiking. Arizona is a fantastic place for hiking, or so I've been told -- I had never actually been hiking before. The one we went on was supposed to be a fairly easy and short one, so I figured I would be fine even though I'm in terrible shape.

Ahhh, not so much. Instead of walking along a smooth straight path, pretty much the whole thing involved climbing up, over, and down rocks.

Yeah, those rocks.

I thought I was going to die. It was extremely difficult for me to keep up with my friends, but somehow I managed. Mostly. However, I stopped at the first, lower, smaller waterfall rather than continuing on to the big main one with my friends. There's no way I could have made it any farther, so instead I rested in the shade, took pictures, and waited for my friends to come back.

As a result of this strenuous activity, every muscle in my body has been screaming since yesterday. Ouch! Other than that, it was actually pretty fun. Scrambling up and down rocks like that reminded me of being a kid again. Not to mention it was beautiful country. And waterfalls are always a treat.

More pictures from the hike below:








A more detailed description of my trip can be found on my Border Beat blog here.

Bikes and Monsoons

Due to a complete lack of funds, I've started riding a bike regularly. I can't afford to buy gas or pay for parking, or in two months pay rent or any other bills, so having my mom ship me her old bike and riding that to and from campus is my solution. Also, it will hopefully get me in shape and help me lose weight, while also being good for the environment. I just can't lose!

At least until some brainless 18-year-old student who is too busy texting to watch where they're going while darting around campus in their brand new shiny car that Daddy bought them hits me. And no, I'm not just being paranoid. I've only been biking for a week and that has already happened -- yesterday. If I hadn't swerved away just in time I would be road rash right now.

Anyway, other than having to watch for those idiots, there have been some drawbacks. For example, when I left class at 6:30 pm Monday it was to find that yet another monsoon had arrived and I was going to get very, very wet on my half-hour ride home. So much for the long-held belief that deserts are dry...

But just to show that every cloud (ha, ha) has a silver lining -- something good did come out of that trip. I've been carrying my camera to campus with me every day, so on this particular day since I was already soaked and knew there was no way I could avoid looking like a drowned rat by the time I made it home, I figured I might as well go with it and stop to get some photos.

I love the way the lights look on the wet pavement and had always wanted to get a shot of it, but since I was always in a car before it wasn't exactly convenient to jump out and snap a photo. Being on a bike makes it much easier. So this night I stopped and took multiple shots.

Unfortunately, as tends to happen with my photos, most of them didn't work out. I guess I just don't know enough to fiddle with all the settings and make sure they are correct for the situation.

The very first photo I took, however, did work out quite well and I love it! What do you think?

Little Cutie

My eight-month-old cousin, Severin. Pretty cute, no?

Readjustment

I've been on Tumblr for several months now, and most of the other tumblrs I follow are related to Afghanistan, as that is where my interest lies. Most are aid workers, journalists, Afghan-Americans, etc., but I did stumble upon the tumblrs of a couple of soldiers who are serving in Afghanistan that were interesting and unusual enough to add to my follow list. One of them I basically started following purely because of the relationship he has with his fiancee, as shown through their respective tumblrs. They're completely adorable and I pretty much love them just for that.

Anyway, the guy, Justin, just got back from Afghanistan a couple weeks ago, and judging by his recent entries is having a tough time readjusting. Reading these posts makes my heart go out to him, and his fiancee, because that must be an incredibly difficult experience. He's mentioned having nightmares several times, and I know from personal experience how horrific nightmares can be.

I can't possibly understand exactly what he's going through now, because his realm of experience of being in Afghanistan as part of the military is completely different from anything I've ever known, but I do recognize some of the symptoms he's mentioned.

Everyone's heard of culture shock, and it definitely does happen. I've experienced it myself. However, what everyone fails to tell you is that reverse culture shock is much more traumatic and difficult to deal with. Readjusting to the familiar can be much harder than adjusting to the different.

I've experienced this twice; first when I returned from my semester studying abroad in Denmark, and then again last year when I returned from my short trip to Afghanistan. It was much worse the second time.

Upon returning from Denmark, the biggest problem I had was that being able to understand everything being said around me was a shock. My system couldn't handle it. I'd just spent four months in a foreign country, where a foreign language is spoken and hearing an American speaking English was significant enough that you would turn around and look if you did hear one. Other than that, and a few other small differences, there wasn't much of a problem. Denmark wasn't really all that different from the U.S., comparatively.

However, returning from Afghanistan was much, much harder. It's odd, really. The visit was relatively uneventful, no traumatic events, major catastrophes, or even terribly emotional aspects. Completely unlike what I imagine Justin's experience in Afghanistan was and a fraction of the length. Yet I had a hell of a time readjusting to my life here.

I kept getting angry -- completely, irrationally, over-the-top angry -- over the smallest little things. Things that I barely even would have noticed before, yet now I would completely blow my stack over. This happened constantly, pretty much every day for the next five months or so. I was argumentative, bitchy, rage-filled, moody, impatient, rude -- all sorts of things that usually don't apply to me (well, to be honest I can be bitchy and/or moody sometimes, but not usually to this extent).

I started having trouble at work and then getting in trouble at work. My boss spoke to me several times, but I just couldn't seem to control it. I was working as a caterer and kitchen worker at the time, which was not good because a large part of my job was dealing with customers. Bad job to have when you can't keep a lid on your temper.

Once I realized what was going on -- it's surprising how difficult to even realize at the time that this sort of behavior is abnormal, usually I don't recognize culture shock or depression or whatever until after it's over -- I started analyzing what was going on and why.

I realized that after my trip to Kabul, seeing how people's lives have been torn apart by war, how starvation is a daily threat, how those people have nothing yet manage to live their lives, it was difficult to come back and care about whether the lemonade pitcher was full for the guests at an anniversary party or if they had ran out of appetizers or had enough napkins. I had seem people live in shipping containers, tents made out of leftover tarps scavenged from the garbage with no heat, no electricity, barely enough food to survive, nothing. Where heaps of garbage line the streets, where kids beg for food to feed their families, where refugees from Kandahar and Helmand try to eke out a miserable existence in IDP camps outside the city. Sorrow and misery seemed to be everywhere. Then after all that I came back to this land of excess and overindulgence and it infuriated me.

It all just seemed so unimportant, and I couldn't make myself care. I was desperate to get back to Afghanistan, where things seemed to make sense, where I could make a difference and do something to help.

Eventually, however, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to return to Afghanistan. I was leaving for grad school at the end of the summer, so moving abroad clearly wasn't an option.

Gradually the fits of rage faded and then stopped completely. I went back to my usual laid-back self and life returned mostly to normal.

For me, the readjustment period was short yet brutally difficult. I'm afraid that for Justin it will last much longer, maybe even the rest of his life, and is undoubtedly much worse than it was for me.

Blowing Bubbles

My sister blowing bubbles for my 5-year-old cousin Ava to chase at my parents' house in Georgia last month.

Ancient Reflections

Fenced Flowers

Chicago

The Chicago Theater

I just read a post on a blog I follow asking which destination would be a good weekend getaway: LA, Vegas, or Chicago. I've never been to the other two but as I've mentioned before, I have spent a great deal of time in Chicago. I even lived there one summer in college while interning at World Book Encyclopedia. The internship was rather unmemorable, but I loved living in Chicago!

Thinking about Chicago has made me nostalgic for "my" city, which I would love to visit again, as well as all my friends who still live there. In honor of my old Chicago home, here are some old pictures from my many trips there over the past eight years.

Chinatown


Random building near Millennium Park

Michigan Ave. down by the parks


One of my favorite things about Chicago: the Bean!


A Bean tradition


The lobby of the Palmer House Hilton, an iconic Chicago hotel, at Christmastime.

Sandstorm

This morning when I got on facebook, there was a message on my wall from one of my high school friends asking if I was affected by the large sandstorm. My reaction was, "huh?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. So I got on the local paper's website and browsed the headlines to see if there was anything about a sandstorm. Nothing.

Then I branched out and did a google news search.

Bingo! I found this:

The Phoenix Haboob of July 5th, 2011 from Mike Olbinski on Vimeo.

HOLY. CRAP.

I haven't been in Arizona very long, so needless to say this is my first glimpse of a sandstorm. All I can say is, I'm rather disappointed to have missed out on something this awesome and scary, yet relatively harmless.

Another joy of life in the Arizona desert is monsoon season. While we might have missed out on this lovely bit of desert living Tuesday, we were fortunate enough to experience another aspect of it on Monday afternoon: a monsoon!

I've been here long enough to expect nothing less than blue skies and sun all day every day, so needless to say these storms are surprisingly violent and regular. Also, after it rains the roads flood to the point where you feel like you're driving through a lake. To a midwestern girl who had the mantra "Never ever EVER drive through a flooded road because your car will be swept away and you will DIE" pounded into her head since birth, this can be a little nerve-wracking.

Offerings

Offerings left at the shrine dedicated to the "apparitions of the blessed virgin mother of God at the Grotto of Lourdes" at the Mission San Xavier del Bac in Arizona.

Don't Blink!

This is a somewhat creepy statue at Tohono Chul Park. I'm not embarrassed to admit that statues freak me out. Don't blink!