Friday, September 30, 2011

Girl Crush Friday ~ Emma Stone

Emma Stone (22) is an American Actress, a comedic actress. She recently appeared in the Help, a book turned film and she was perfect. She's the kind of girl that I would want as a sister because I can imagine us in our PJ's cracking each other up at night and gang on up our other siblings and scheme under our parents' noses. She's uber pretty, but is completely down to earth and funny. I like that in a gal.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Birth order

I recently read an article about the power of birth order and this is a topic I've always been interested in. I'd think about all the boy friends I had and all the girl friends my brother has had and see if I can see a pattern in the kind of people we date. I found one. All the boys I've dated have been the middle child of three boys, or the boys I've liked are the eldest of two boys, none of them ever had sisters. I'm not sure why these particular boys were magnetizing to me nor do I know why they were attracted to me in return. Even the boy I married is one of three boys, but he happens to be the eldest and this makes me think that I've been dating the wrong brother all this time and that's why the other two never worked out. All of the girls my younger brother had dated were the youngest of two girls and never did he date anyone that had brothers. I find this a little strange or maybe a little worrisome perhaps because we may be wanting to be the unique one in the family, hogging all the attention.

I've also picked up a way of sensing when a boy has an older sister. Can't really list off distinct words or pin down a distinct characteristic unique to these boys, but I can always tell when a boy grew up under the ruling fist loving influence of an older sister.  Boys with older sisters are generally good with girls, in that they treat them dignity even when they're goofing off and even when they are making fun of you. They treat you like a human being instead of a barbie doll or some alien creature they must probe and prod to figure out how to contain them.  These boys have an ease when they are talking to girls because they are trained in their youth to listen and respond to complaints from their older sister. Not the kind of listening with vague nods, eyes glazed over and "uh-huhs" we get from boys with only brothers as their educators, but listening that comes from days and years of training  from their older sisters, most of the time unwillingly or even without their knowing.

Children are innately more sensitive and keen to their environment and survival than we give them credit for. We can tell this because if any of us grew up with siblings, we know exactly who which parent favors what child. Of course any good set of parents would deny any accusation of favoritism by their children, even when they are fully grown because that's the way  they show love to the unfavored one. After all...even the unfavored child is your own. Birth order can show a lot about a person and when you meet a middle child, an oldest child, a youngest child, you can always tell. Middle children with same gender siblings are true middle children because they have no uniqueness to them, not gender and not birth order, she or he is neither the eldest or the youngest, slipping through the cracks and being over looked. They seem to over compensate by being the peace maker, the trouble maker, the black sheep, to stand out from the rest of them. The eldest are usually confident and mature, independent and a little bit stubborn, taking care of those around them. The youngest, which I am frequently mistaken for, are free spirited and cavalier, they are the ones that take chances and a little bit thoughtless.

It's amazing to me how the person you grow up with shape you in ways your parents cannot. You learn from your sibling how to vie for your parents affections, learn to stand out or hide, negotiate your terms of survival and learn from the mistakes your older sister makes. You find your worth from the way your older brother, your younger brother at that, treat you. What if my brother had been born a sister? I may have killed her spirit, or she might have killed mine. Maybe I would have been a good sister and she would have been my best friend, causing me not to pursue girl relationships as hard as I do. Maybe I would have married a boy who had sisters instead of these boys that had brothers only. Could I have been the person I am without my little brother?

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

It takes a village

It takes a village to raise a child, or no child has just one set of parents is an African proverb, but isn't limited to their culture. We imagine an African tribe, living in huts with open cutouts in shape of a square but no doors, the village so close in proximity that it's more of a group camping trip than an actual village or a town. In this context there must be a need for this proverb to really play out so that there is camaraderie and trust among the villagers, keeping your children safe. There must be children spilling into other people's yards and homes because there is very little boundary in their culture, so as a village, to raise the children of others is raising your own children.  Americans have boundaries set up for every part of our lives from my money, my house, my bank to my side of the yard that is drawn by an invisible property line given by the city or the village, or more distinct still, a white picket fence to properly keep the riff raff out without being rude of course.

The invisible property lines are not only drawn for our belongings and brick and mortar possessions, but those invisible lines are drawn in our day lives, between our friends, our mentality, our beliefs and our personalities. I wrote about this topic last year and I have seems more in the last year about how it does take a village to know one person fully and we may never really know our friends in their full glory to the intricate detail and I'm not sure we were meant to. We can describe to our friends how someone is when he or she is when they are surrounded by a certain group of people, but you cannot truly see. Even if you were to be around when he or she is surrounded by those certain people, your sheer existence in the room taints the her reaction to them and you effect the way they are in front of those people, not seeing how she or he would be in their presence.  There's no knowing what a person is like when you are not with them, you merely need to trust  whatever interaction you have with your friend is true and genuine, and accept the side you bring out in that person.

When I am with my mom and dad, I am completely content and happy, but if you throw in the mix, a person that makes me feel uncomfortable, I will be uncomfortable. The chemistry of people is drastically changed when you are in combination with family and friends, your other group of friends, your enemies and your frenemies. There are a million different combinations of people you can be with and this is exactly why you are slightly panic stricken when you see your "worlds" collide. You constantly adjust, change and accommodate, let loose, hold tight, let in and let out as you are in various circumstances and "villages." I'd love to be a fly on the wall of friends rooms and their hang out spots, their homes and their classrooms. I want to see them interact with their parents, their childhood friends, their ex girlfriends and brothers to see what they are really made of. I want to see them be their full self when no one is looking because as soon as I am there to look, they are already different. And as soon as you're looking, I'm different too.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Drowning in Molasses


I just can't get back to the normal routine of things when I either come home from camp or when the Ohio people come and they leave. It's difficult to just back into reality when you're struggling to adjust your eyes and mentality, while the people you have spent a heavenly seven days with are beckoning you at the same time through letters, emails, texts and phone calls. You can to be with them, but you can't be with them all the time, there is work to be done, there are people to be dealt with, family to see. I love them with all my heart and I am willing to drown in their love, but right now, I feel as though I am keeping my head above a deep pool of Molasses and I am struggling to keep my breath. The love is sticky, thick, demanding and it makes me desperate. The sticky sweetness that I would love to die in and reincarnate into an angel, surrounded with the angels I love so much.

In my initial primal reaction, I want to protect myself from all the rawness of the love and emotion, but when I think about detaching and spending a little time away from them so that I would be able to come up for air, I'm so afraid that they will forget me. I am afraid to be forgotten by them. Are they my idol? Am I making this good good thing into something I am consumed by, putting them before Jesus and my desires for Him? When I think about losing them, is that the worst thing I can think of? I feel out of control...

I need some time away from them and let the rest of my life catch up with me, or maybe the other way around, catch up with the "real" life I live in when the high light reel is not playing...the rest of the movie that connects each of the good highlight moments and makes the story of life flow with continuum. There are moments of sadness they will never see, they will miss the nights you cry yourself to sleep from loneliness or just overwhelmed by your sin. They will not see the deepest desires of your heart and what your soul is wrapped up in. That you hunger for things that are deeper with them, but we may never reach, I want to go there with them, to the deep dark beyond. I will follow you into the darkness, hold my hand and I will blindly follow, would you follow me?

Friday, September 2, 2011

Sinking Ship

I think I'm spinning out of control.  The stress of dealing with friendship and relationship problems, my family dilemmas and adoption lull has been getting to me. I wasn't feeling that stressed, but lately, I'm getting a really weird burning sensation in my throat, chest and stomach and sometimes it shoots up into my brain and I get some of a brain freeze, like I slurped up too much of the stress juice. I can see visible signs of my life coming undone, literally. Half my clothes are on the floor of my wardrobe, the sink is full of dishes, the living room is strewn with random things I don't have a place for (or, they do have a place but I don't know where to put them). I am breaking out, losing sleep and losing hair, making me busy with one more thing to do, sweep up all the hair off the floor.

The funny thing is, I do feel sad and I do have bouts of crying here and there but not emotional break down. It's the kind of small releases I need, but I'm not spiritually and emotionally downing in my sorrows and foibles, which I attribute Jesus for. I am though still frustrated with too many communication breakdowns, whispers, twisting of words, suspicion and flat out lies. I am overwhelmed once again, with my own sin, and the sin of others. There were so many out pours of brokenness last night, I felt as thought there was a huge monkey straddling my shoulders. You know that monkey from the family guy and he sits in your closet with sharp teeth and points at you as the target for his next attack? That one.

I am sick of talking, defending and explaining myself and I'm beginning to hate the sound of my own voice. The things I'm saying feels like it's falling on deaf ears and what goes through my mind over and over like a Tornado warning that scrolls over your favorite sitcom says, "only if they knew me, they wouldn't say this, why would I do this? only if they knew me, they wouldn't think this, why would I do this?" I don't think I saw anything through the scrolling words in my mind because I crashed into a boat today. YES, a motor boat. A pick-up truck hulling a motor boat, most likely prepped for the holiday weekend has been leading me down Higgins Road for a whole mile. The red light signals us to stop, but I kept driving because I couldn't see anything through the scrolling words in my mind. The cop shows up and asks if I just had a blond moment, and I guess I did...absent minded and floating in space.

This boat is finally going down....Sinking Shin.

Girl Crush Friday ~ Rachel Mc Adams



Rachel McAdams (32) is a Canadian actress and she's actually born in the same city as her ex boy friend Ryan Gosling  (Thank God I like this girl or I'd have to hate her). Two high school girls I know actually told me I reminded them of a Korean Rachel McAdams, but I think they were flattering me and it's really not true. Regardless, I like her because she's sassy and she's not always clamouring for the spot light but getting it anyways. She's the type of girl I think I could actually be friends with because she's so down to earth and although she looks like a celebrity (and is one) she seems approachable and touchable. I especially like her in the Family Stone and the Notebook. :)