Two things I see as given
in my life, firstly I try to be as punctual as possible, secondly I'm terribly
chaotic. So when you mix both of these together you get a person with an
absolute need for pressure in order to finish something. If there is no due
date then I'll probably procrastinate until either I run out of more irrelevant
things to do or when pigs actually start to fly.
Here, have an example. I
told you about this presentation I had in my last post. I actually wrote it the
night before, making the PowerPoint presentation the very same day I had to
stand in front of my class and talk about it. I tried to start earlier, but
couldn't squeeze one mildly intelligent word out of my brains. Besides, you
know what? The lecturer told me actually that I was rather good. Of course it
wasn't perfect, but I never expected it to be anyway.
Another situation on which
I realized that not everyone can actually withstand the tension* of last
minute entries was when I wrote this big paper during my final year of school.
I had all the information gathered but I was only able to write on it about
four weeks before I had to hand it in, which considering the amount of time we
had, was very little. Even my teacher made a remark on it saying he was
slightly worried and admitting that he had no reason to. That also was the
moment my mum could finally accept that I work in my own pace.
They even talk about this
whole issue in the bible, I mean hello? What I'm talking about is written in
Ecclesiastes and to be honest, that's part of the reason why this book is my
favourite. Just read the verse and you might understand me. "To every thing
there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." [Eccl. 3:1; KJV]. I just feel like this sentence gets
my way of thinking. It's not about pushing it off mindlessly, it's about doing
it when you are ready, when the idea is ripe to become real.
That's also the reason why
I try my hardest to keep a weekly schedule up, even when weekly isn't determined
with a certain day. When I loosen up too much then I might quit, which is the
last thing I want to do right now.
Finally this whole schedule
thing gets more and more important as NaNo approaches fast. I think next week
you'll hear more about it, as I want to introduce this fabulous project to all
of you. The fact that you just have to get the right amount of words during November
is the best push I can get. I don't want to see myself loosing, especially
since I have won the past two years, of which the first my schedule was about
to burst due to all the things I was involved. I'm pumped for it and almost set
to go. On the other hand I need to have my time organized well or I might
end up neglecting either school, writing or my social life, which I want to
prevent from happening!
To sum this up, schedules
and deadlines keep me motivated and help me organise, even though what I'm
doing might look like a mess to orderly people. I simply flourish
under pressure. They also provide me with good
products instead of just some lightly planed bits and bobs, as last minute
execution leaves way more time and room for good planning beforehand. It's probably best
that everyone has their own way of dealing with their own time.
Cheerio.
* I am sorry, insider alert
;)
As you all probably know
and have heard too many times, I moved out. Well technically I'm only staying
at my new plays 4 days a week, but you know, it somehow still counts. I'm
halfway through my fifth week of doing this and very slowly but surely I
adapted to this new phase and I feel more and more comfortable with my
situation. Let me tell you a bit more about the whole first impressions I got.
So when I spent my first
night at this scary new place I've only been there twice before. As I had some
busy weeks right before I started uni it kind of happened that I only properly
moved in the day prior to the actual first day. Of course my stuff was already
there but it's not your place until you at least spent several hours there/slept
there. I felt very anxious that day. I had not yet bought any food and I almost
didn't dare to go out of my room as it was intimidating and somewhat overwhelming.
My dinner that day was leftover celebration my Mum bought when we unpacked my
things the week before.
I didn't sleep well that
night, again due to the strangeness of the whole situation, but at least I
expected that. Now I'm not going to tell you how the university stuff worked
out, I might want to tell that in another post, I just want to talk about the
shared flat I live in. It was strange sharing a place with people I didn't know
at all. I did not even see my third flatmate until the day after I moved in,
which seemed very odd to me.
I live with two guys who
speak French as their mother tongue and a fellow female that is Swissgerman.
She is in her first year just like me, whereas the older guy is in his third
and the younger does some kind of school (of which basically none of us
understood what it's all about). I assumed that me and my FFM (female flat mate
:D) would be going along well because she is easy to be with, but I was not
sure about the guys, especially given the fact that I'm not confident at all of
my French. At first the language barrier was huge, but it's not as bad anymore.
(I can always use an English word if my French fails me).
The first week was very
though and I missed home already on my second evening there. It was the sum
of everything happening around me, the fast changes that caused this feeling,
but still it was very hard on me. When I knew I was going home on Thursday
evening I danced around in my room, happily packing my bags. I think I've never
felt as homesick as the moment my train arrived at my hometown. I
could've literally cried. I would've never thought that you could feel this way
after just four days, but I couldn't help it anyway.
So the next Sunday I really
didn't want to leave. Don't get me wrong, I didn’t have any really negative
experiences, it was just too much to cope with, too many changes for me. I
missed to have my friends close, I missed talking to my brother about things he
doesn't care about but he still listens and I felt very lonely in general,
which is weird given the fact I was surrounded by people a lot. Again I managed
to get through that week, having only very small conversations with my
flatmates.
During the third week we
managed to be in one room all at once, which to be honest was quite the
achievement. Since then it has increased rapidly though.
The situation now is pretty
good I'd say. After some struggles with convincing the boys to stick to the
cleaning schedule of us girls we have the older one on our side. The younger
one starts to be annoying due to him lying to us about cleaning and not trying to understand what we say. Also he doesn't slow down while speaking to use which is
kind of rude as we are trying our best to converse in French. Probably we
should just blame it on his age, but c'mon, that's just not ok.
My FFM and the older MFM
have started a prank war with each other, including fake arguments. It is
hilarious to watch and listen to. I have declared my neutrality, but I'm
secretly helping her a lot. I mean I've been pranked so much that it's kind of
dull just watching, on the other hand it's in fact really nice not to be
targeted all the time.
Yesterday the three of us
stayed up till 1 am, even though we had class at eight, just to talk about
music and movies and stuff. I realize how I start to actually enjoy this place,
and once the word "home" even got into my mind while thinking about
it, which made me smile.
I don't know how this will
work out, as there is still a lot of time left here, but to be honest I feel
quite confident that it might end up alright.
Cheerio.
Oh and before I leave, I should be writing on a presentation that is due tomorrow but I'm busy procrastinating .... The FFM proposed to drink Grappa to get over writers block....oh college life xD
Over the past couple of
years I have accomplished to life with the fact that sometimes I get extremely
awkward. I don't consider that as something special, because I know that a lot
of people get to know that feeling at one point or another. One thing that
usually makes me quite uncomfortable is in fact a very small detail, but I've
always been very good at over analyzing so enjoy reading along. Let me
introduce you to the difficulty of saying "Hello" & "Goodbye".
I don't mean the general
shouts in a crowded room, no I mean actual face to face welcome style
"Hellos". Basically in my life there are five general kinds of how to
get that done around. The most common is "the handshake" It's
appropriate when you meet someone for the first time, if you want to reduce intimacy
of any kind and you might even express a little discomfort towards a person
through this medium. It's also important for less close relationships like business
related things. In case of insecurity always go for a handshake and you can do
almost nothing wrong, at least in western civilisation.
In certain situation it
might feel uncomfortable though. When I meet a person around my age I consider
a handshake to be too formal. Also when I'm meeting friends and I don't want to
really interrupt them I need something different to get their attention. There
"the wave" is great. People can decide to acknowledge your move and
welcome you properly or they can just look past it. It's also very useful to
make a general statement instead of having to walk up to each person
individually. To be honest I guess "the wave" is my go to move as
it's very nonchalant to use.
A third thing is "the
clap'n shake". I know that one mostly from the guys at our church. It's
less formal than a handshake, a little friendlier and more personal. It means
first you clap your hand together and with a smooth movement you switch into a
short handshake. Troubles included in that one is a bad clap and confusion by
the person not knowing that you initially wanted to do that move. It's pretty
handy though and I fully understand why the guys use it a lot.
My former enemy and now
best friend is "the hug" though. I used to seriously hate hugging
certain people as I didn't like getting touched in general. Over the time I
learned that some of my friends are veery good huggers though and I also
understood the general meaning of a hug. You can put in a lot of warmth,
sincerity and care into that move and it shows a lot of positive feelings. I am
a hugger but I'll never forget that I wasn't always so I can respect other
people's boundaries when they feel not comfortable with that one.
And last (but also least)
is the freaking awkward 2-3 kisses on the cheek thing. Yes I have a biased
opinion on it and you might've guessed that it's not positive. I do not
understand it; usually it's just rubbing your cheek against another and making
kissing sounds. Why is that even a thing? It doesn't mean anything and it feels
odd. Actually that is the reason why I write this post. At my Uni we have this
bible study group and for some reason they've used this method to greet each
other. So far I've managed to escape it by using "the wave" and
settle things as soon as I enter but not today. So I awkwardly held out my hand
and totally confused this one guy, which internally made me laugh a lot. I mean
those cheek kisses with a girl is doable, with a guy I dislike and with a
bearded guy I hate, I am sorry.
Oh and on the subject of
seriously awkward, did it ever happen to you that you wanted to hug someone
whereas they aimed for a handshake? Or maybe the other way around, who knows.
And please do not let me get started on the troubles one can get across while
hugging, like stroking alongside someone’s face and hitting someone while
stretching out to give a proper hug, really terrible stories, believe me. Oh
and let's not forget when you accidentally missed to bid someone welcome the
right way and that person got disappointed or sad? Which reminds me of
that one person who seems to do that a lot towards me lately, how rude ;)
So you see, I am completely
nuts, but what do you except of a sleepless person at quarter past three in the
morning. Maybe I should get more sleep instead of thinking so much about
lavalieres.
Cheerio.
I love reading. It's
something I cannot imagine living without; it's a second nature of mine. When
my brother and I were just little kids our mum didn't allow us to stay up past
7 pm. And she forbade us to watch TV after around six. The only thing we still
could do was looking at storybooks, later read in real books. When we got
older, and I'm talking about the time until I was thirteen, the TV turn off
time was eight and we were allowed to read until nine. She was quite strict,
you know.
As me and my brother didn't
have much against that rule we actually read quite a lot. I remember one of the
first books I read was about an alley cat. Title and name are still present to
me and I think it was about the first book to actually make me cry.
Well you see my mum was
supportive of us reading, but she wasn't supporting of us staying up long due
to that. So at a certain age I started to read under my blanket, using a DS game
boy as a light... bad decision. My mum once told me that she used to do the
same, that's why she has glasses. Second generation here and I'm convinced it
was worth it. She also wasn't supportive of certain genres though. Harry Potter
was no problem; she even went to see every single movie with my brother and me
because she wanted to. What she didn't like were vampire stories, but in the
end she let us do what we wanted, she couldn't stop me from reading Twilight anyway.
There is this thing about books;
they carry a lot of emotions. On the one hand side there are the ones that are
written down. The heartbreak when a main character dies, the pain you life
through with a person that does in fact not even live, let alone feel anything.
It doesn't help. I can tell myself about a thousand times that I read a story
that is purely fictional. I can't keep distance to a story; I fall right into
it and get lost. Sometimes I need to remind myself that I don't have to fight
an evil magician or that I am not battling a deadly fever or that there is definitely
not a giant snow storm going on outside, as it is summer. Yes all of these
things happened at some point in my head and I had to get over them.
Another thing is that
sometimes I can't help but cry or shout or squeal. I'm not a quiet reader (am
not a quiet anything to be honest). This spring I was at a friend’s house for a
couple of days as kind of a vacation. She is one of my closest friends and I
feel quite at home there, so one day she was learning some songs while I was
sat on her couch reading. It happened that the male main character of a book
died so tragically that I started to bawl like a baby. She looked up to me,
asked what happened and when I told her she got back to her music. Not because
she is rude but because she understands that I needed to get the pain out and
after that I'd be ok. Today was one of these days too, I've read three entire
books in 26 hours, (of which I slept 7 and was away 6 more) and in the end I
cried because it was heartbreaking. On the other hand there is barely anything
that makes me feel more stress released than finishing a truly beautiful,
addicting and somewhat perfect story. That’s somewhat explains why I can't go
on for too long without reading, it's just not healthy for me.
The last but not least thing
that fascinates me about this whole topic is the knowledge you absorb. I can't
even imagine how different I'd be if I had never read all these books. I don't
see myself as intelligent, but how duller life would be without people like
Elizabeth Bennet, Hermione Granger, Aria Stark, Aischa, Jenny, Peeta, Alice,
Theo and so one. How less I'd now about Islam, of Heisenberg uncertainty
principle, about Westeros, the time around 1666, shadow man, and the USA? I'd
have no idea what I'd be even talking about in this last paragraph. Part of my
personality was formed by books, and I hope that this keeps happening until my
eyes are too weak to see anything more, and if you ask me that'll be the day
when I switch to audio books anyway ;)
Cheerio.
...greater things to happen. Do you know that sensation? Your heart is pounding against your chest, your whole body is tingling, you feel restless, your mind is twirling around but in fact whatever makes you feel this way hasn't even started yet. In May when I went jogging several times I experienced this sensation very often. My body was giving me fake symptoms of how I felt whilst jogging, in addition to thinking about it so in the end I managed to actually get up and do it.
Now I'm in a similar but very different position. I'm in my new flat in the city I'll be studying in for the next at least three years. I knew this and all that comes along with it (leaving home, meeting new people, get to know a different system, starting Uni) was coming my way for a long time. I've mentally prepared for this moment since at least April but I still don't feel ready. I have basically not left this room since 3.5 hours in order to adapt to it, I am somehow very very nervous and have felt like this for about three weeks now. In the mean time I also feel kind of restless and overwhelmed. I'm scared of not being able to achieve my goals, as this part of my life is pretty important.
I remember being a little kid and dreaming oh so big. It was my goal to reach a lot of people, with a message that I did not even know which one it was. I wanted to become somewhat of a star, even though I knew that I didn't have a talent like singing or dancing. Whatever it was that made me feel this way, after a while I saw that many people wanted that, some even wanted a kind of fame that was bigger than themselves, just like me. But they did not succeed. So how was I supposed to get there? How is this silly little thing that is me even able to achieve anything that is more than school? You could say I lost track and started hibernation, putting my dreams away and focusing on real things.
After a while I changed my point of view completely, I couldn't imagine anything good to happen to me. It was not like nothing ever happened, but I feared having expectations. I remember being a fourteen year old sitting in the car of a youth group leader (the one I looked up to the most) on the way to a camp. As part of the preparation she asked me and my two friends, who were with us, what we were expecting to happen during that camp. I remember saying that I honestly did not expect anything in order not to get disappointed if whatever scenario I could possibly have in my mind would not become true. Of course that wasn't the right answer, I was told to try again. After a while I just shrugged and said: "I hope to meet new people and to have a good time with my friends". Needless to say that during that camp happened way more than just that silly thing I wished for. It was during that weekend when I realized what it meant to believe in God for the first time and decided to follow his lead, still one of the best decisions I ever made.
Especially this year I have learned how to trust my future in a new way. I've seen things that were very unlikely to become true, like my trip to Mallorca, or finding a job. I also have an inner list of things that I still want to see happening. Some of them could become real soon, others would be true miracles but I trust in God and with him nothing can stop me or my plans to be fulfilled... Whatever lies before me, I'm not afraid. The best days are yet to come and I'm ready to claim them for me, I'm ready to see my dreams become reality. To be scared is ok, but never let fear stop you. Be prepared.
Cheerio.
P.S. If you really care about what is going on right now: I managed to enable internet in my room, have eaten some celebrations as they were the only eatable thing I had left (I really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow). I have showered and am about to go to sleep in my new room for the first time. It is rather cold here so I need to buy some warm covers and I forgot to bring my pj's, but apart from that I'm fine and pretty good right now. Excited and nervous for tomorrow though.
I call
myself a writer. I feel like I'm defining very well with just this one word. I
might not be a good one yet, but my life is somewhat pulling me into that
direction more and more so I might as well be prepared to get better. Since I
really took up that attitude I've realized certain things that cannot be unseen
about what being a writer means.
First of
all I'm open to plot bunnies. Plot bunnies are things that you observe around
you that give your imagination a boost. For example recently I've seen a little
plot bunny in form of a woman in her thirties, with her hair tied together in a
bun. What was special about that detail was that in order to hold together her
hair she used a pen and a pencil instead of anything else. So you see, it is
very good to have open eyes during your everyday life.
I also
started to channel my emotions. That doesn't mean that I'm able to control
them, instead I use what I feel. If I'm jealous I'll write myself a note why exactly,
the setting, the people involved and I try to describe it. I do that in case I
want to ever use a similar situation in a novel. Of course I should not see my
own life relatable to everyone, but right now it is so much easier to just
start with what I understand instead of finding a general context.
By now I
use about anything to form a story, as long as it just triggers my mind. Last
years NaNo novel was formed out of the combination of a nightmare I had three
years ago and the name of a guy I meet at a camp. The guy himself did not leave
that much of an impression though, it was just his name that made my creativity
buzz.
To be
honest sometimes I feel very awkward about the whole writing attitude. Like
when I realize that my next story will be entirely inspired by a guy with whom
I've only talked very briefly, or that my next female main character is a
product of me trying to draw my male main character and failing.
It is also
inconvenient when you have to be anti social because you just need to write
down your thoughts immediately so they don't get lost. For example I'm writing
those lines right now, seated on a train. Next to me I have an old lady that is
nearly deaf and I already had to repeat a train announcement in a shouting
voice in order for her to understand even though I nearly missed it myself. On
the other side there is another one that looks at me kind of angry because
I seem to be one of these teenagers who just sit in front of their mobile phone
the whole time, when all I do is writing this blog post.
All in
all, I love it. I don't care how many people get annoyed with me whilst I write
because it's one of the things I love doing the most. I'm happy to be an
observer, a dreamer and sometimes a stalker, because it feels very
"me" to do that. I hope that all of you reading have something that
makes you look insane when all you do in fact is living your dream somehow.
Cheerio.
I've already told you that
I was away at the beginning of August for ten days. I was in Mallorca and I
spend a very good time there. But of course it wasn't as easy as me just hoping
on a plane, there is so much more story behind it all. I'd propose you'd take a
seat and just read ;)
First of all let me introduce
you to what we did and with whom. We went on a mission trip to Mallorca, an
Island belonging to Spain. We went there with an organization called Gospel
Tribe, which is based in Germany. They have a bible school and organize
outreaches to different places on a regular basis. This year was their third or
fourth (Sorry can't remember) trip to the Ballermann, which is the German party
zone on the Island. If you live in a country were german is a spoken language,
you know about the Ballermann. Also on the island is the English Party zone in
Magaluf. The goal of our project was to talk with people and pray for them if
they wanted to. But now on to my personal story.
I still remember when our youth
pastor told me about the trip for the first time. It was during the time that I
occasionally helped out in our church's office due to me not having anything
better to do. I just loved the idea straight away because unlike American’s we Swiss
have too little mission trips going on. What I liked especially was the fact
that we'd be a group of our church instead of just me as an individual having
to join a group of people I don't know. Back then I really hoped that I'd be
able to make it.
One evening in January, the
man who was organizing this trip came to our church to present what we were
going to do. Again I knew that I wanted to go, but I just realized then
that I couldn't actually go. I still didn't have a job after searching for about half a
year. How was I supposed to pay for it? There was no way for me to sign up for
it without having a plan settled what I would be doing by the time I left.
Would I find a job, would I get time off? There were just too many unanswered
questions.
You see, I gave up. But on
the very same evening I changed my opinion once more. A man from our church, a friend of mine,
got up to me and asked what I was thinking about that whole project. I was
honest and told him I liked the idea but that there were too many unresolved
problems, like the money issue. It didn't take him minutes to offer me the
money. I remember standing there, not sure what I was supposed to do. Should I
really accept that amount of money? Was that ok or not? I somehow wanted to go,
but was I really sure? And what about the job issue? I was confused and
overwhelmed, grateful for the opportunity. I got home and I was smiling,
thinking that maybe it would all work out for me in the end.
In the end I decided that I
would accept the money. I had to realize that if god organizes the finances,
then he would also organize the time and everything else. Of course he did. So
know we have a cut, I think it was in June when I started to doubt it all. I
started questioning myself and loaded a lot of pressure on me. It was not only I
going, but I felt like I was having more responsibility due to me kind of
having a scholarship. Generally spoken I felt obligated to achieve something
with all of that for more than just myself. Even though I'm quite talkative,
it's hard for me to approach strangers. What did I even think when I signed up
for going to Mallorca? I did not even like Germans!! There were so many things
that we didn't know and when I talked to a friend who was going to we both said
that we were not really looking forward to it. I started dreading the day that
we left; on the other hand I was still somewhat excited because at least I
would swim in the sea again and maybe tan a little on the beach, something that
I didn't think I would do this year.
Again I was calmed down.
The man who paid for my trip asked me if I wanted to come to his house group
one day, to tell them what we were going to do and so they could pray for me
and all. Of course I accepted that was the least I could do. What really
touched me then was that they specifically prayed for my free time. They prayed
that I would be able to enjoy my time, that there should be no pressure from
anyone for me to achieve anything. It was exactly what I needed to hear and
went from my ear straight to my heart where I felt relaxation all of a sudden.
I was ready for the adventure.
The thing is I don't know
what to tell you about the time we spent there. So much happened in these ten
days, there is not enough space left on this post. It was amazing. If I wanted
to tell you all you'd have to read a whole novel (or my diary, but then I'd
probably kill you). Let me just sum it up. I've meet amazing people, I had good
conversations, I barely slept, I cried out of happiness about three times, I
realized that my life goals are still as important to me as they were when I
was a little fourteen year old. I know that I need to fight to get what I want,
but that nothing will really stop me until I'm there. I got inspired to take
something up again that I abandoned about five times in my life, I changed my
mind about Germans (I now love them), and I just generally grew a lot
hopefully. I see my future in a different light and I have more plans than
ever, which is just fantastic. I'm going to have some marvellous adventures if
you ask me.
I promise to tell you more
stories shortly, but right now all you need to know is that mission trips
really form you. You go there for others, but you get so much for yourself.
Await part two of this instalment ;)
Cheerio.
