As many of my friends will tell you (if you know them, which you probably don't), I have a knack for striking up life-altering conversations with strangers. I consider this a talent and a hobby. They (my friends) consider this a death wish. Just a little back story.
Yesterday, I decided to sit in Starbucks and knit. I thought that I needed some "alone" time, whatever that is, and I didn't feel like walking all of the way back to my residence hall. A few minutes later, an older man with a large book took a seat in one of the comfy chairs next to me. At first, I was completely thrown off. Why is this guy sitting by me when there are other seats available?
We didn't really look at each other for a while, but then he asked me about my knitting (which I am obsessed with and will talk about for a very long time to anyone who is unfortunate enough to ask). Bam. We ended up talking about his book, a guide to trees around the country, and all of the trees that this man has seen (which is a lot).
It was beautiful. I have always loved trees, but this guy really took it to a whole new level. He even found me some acorns so that I could plant my very own tree (which is something I have always kind of wanted to do). It was awesome.This guy was awesome. The conversation that we had may or may not have made my day.
Look around, find your own stranger, and converse. You never know what you will learn..
I never fully realized the difference between someone who lives their life to learn and someone who just exists.
There is a difference folks. A vast one.
For example, I just completely blanked on the exact definition of the word 'vast'. Normally, I would have just used a dumber word that I already know the meaning of, like large. Not today. Today, I looked it up, refreshed my memory, and utilized that term. Rock on.
For the past few days, I have been reminding myself to be continually curious about the world, and to learn for the fun of it. And guess what, learning magically became fun again! I now know the history of Tootsie Rolls, why people are late, what Lorde's song "Royals" is actually about, songs by Cage the Elephant, and the basics of knitting. It's fantastic.
While a lot of this information may seem useless, it really made me think. How many things do I not know? How many of those things will I never know, and how will that affect my life? Ignorance breeds intolerance and such. Crazy, crazy, crazy.
Maybe not to this extent, but I would like to continue to keep an open (or at least as open as I can be) mind about life. Who knows what else is out there to learn?
About a week ago, I wrote about the opportunity that I received to go to Thailand and help out with learning camps. The guy who asked me about it never e-mailed me back, and I was starting to think that he never would.
Then today when I was eating lunch with Dan (we are now on civil, friend terms), this vaguely familiar looking guy comes up to me and asks me if I remember him. I say that I do, because saying no to that question is never a smart idea. Then he starts introducing me to all of these Thai people and talking about camps and it clicked.
So basically, the guy is still completely on board to go through with this, and also told the Thai people that I am "amazing" and "will go places", which was super flattering.
So, due to my excessive amount of stress over my upcoming camp interviews, resident adviser interview results, school work, and just regular happenstances, I have not been the most jolly person to be around. Everything has been irking me, especially my classes, which seemed to have no tie-in to my future career as a high school English teacher/ therapeutic-hiker-camp-counselor-Peace-Corps-person-thing.
Also, due to my easily annoyed demeanor, I keep arguing with one of my roommates, which is a super bad outlet for my stress. Last night, we were discussing whether or not teachers should have to learn Spanish (since one of my goals in life is to move to Arizona). After being woe-is-every-culture/race-that-isn't- WASP-ed to death in my Intercultural Communications class, I was not in the mood to hear it again ,especially when it wasn't for a grade. So we got into it, until one of my other roommates distracted us.
Unfortunately for me, in my Queer Literature Studies class we are currently reading Borderlands/La Frontera by Gloria Anzaldua, half of which is...wait for it...EN ESPAñOL. Lovely. Karma definitely exists in the world.
I learned my lesson. Chicano culture has been around for a long long time. In fact, they could be considered Native Americans (if we were looking at North America as a whole). Intriguing stuff. Plus, maybe it's the English teacher in me, but hearing about their struggles in literature form puts them in a new and more poignant light. Here's an excerpt from our reading. Sorry that it's different sizes, that's what I get for screen shot-ing the poem from a PDF.
I have always prided myself on being a learner. In my last post, I mentioned debating a tattoo about constantly learning new things. I honestly believe that a person can learn something new from everything if they think hard enough. After being rejected for a job position as a resident adviser, I gained tenacity and realized that everyone fails at something. After a summer as a camp counselor (which all of you should look into, by the way. It will change your life.), I learned the value of being myself and to never underestimate the influence that I hold in the lives of others. While taking piano lessons, I learned how to digress in order to avoid learning (needless to say, I am no Andrew McMahon). And, piano lessons aside, I have never been the type to learn these lessons the easy way.
Do you ever feel like that sometimes? Somehow, I always subconsciously feel the need to learn lessons the hard way. The first and only tattoo that I currently have(ish) on my body, a triangle symbolizing my time as a camp counselor last summer (once again, being a camp counselor is the best thing ever. Do it.), was done against my parents' will. I thought that I could hide it. One terminally ill Opa in hospice and a few panic attacks later, I was forced to remove it (unless I wanted to become a gold digger or rob a bank in order to pay for college). I broke up and emotionally manipulated with my first love again and again for around two years. He ended up cheating on me with an insecure girl who constantly looks like she feasts on lemons.
Would I change it though? Probably not. First of all, look how cute we were.
And also, without him cheating on me, I would have never applied for the aforementioned resident adviser job that I was rejected for, the camp counselor position that I love more than grilled cheese waffles (sounds gross, but actually delicious), and a new boyfriend that I care about enough to change how I act towards the people I date.
So, what does this have to do with the present moment? Well, I decided to stack my course schedule so that I have classes for eight hours on Tuesdays and twelve hours on Thursdays. Stupid choice, I advise you to avoid this, it's quite painful. And I am trying to remind myself that this is a great opportunity to learn (my inner education major coming out). Maybe, as my mom tells me, I just love dramatics. I like to think of it as a boredom allergy.
Oh, and for those of you who have no knowledge of Andrew McMahon, ready your ears for this link.
As an education major (I can feel the 'dumb' stereotypes pelting me as I type) and part of my school's education major learning community, I am forced to attend something called seminar, which I call suckinar due to the fact that it takes place on Tuesday nights and consists of mainly early childhood and special education major who overdose on Disney princesses and musicals.
Thankfully, I have a few saving graces. One is my little, AJ, who is a high school English education major like myself, who talks tattoos and Tennyson and has the same all-time favorite song, Miss American Pie.
We were talking tattoos again, with me debating on whether or not I relate with Plato's Allegory of the Cave enough to carry permanently on my spine. Since, if anyone is actually taking time out of their day to read this post, they are probably not going to want to read an entire Plato piece, here is the rundown: people live in a cave, chained to a wall, with their only entertainment being the shadows cast on the walls in front of them, which become their reality, and they think that this is all their is to life. Moral of the allegory, people think that they have learned everything, but in reality, there is so much more to know than any individual person can ever really harness, which is maddening if you think about it for too long like I do on occasion. However, it probably wouldn't hurt to have a reminder that no, I do not know everything, not even close.
