The Old Man

Today as I was driving home from my classes, I received a revelation of sorts -- an ingenious idea . My poor 11-year old dog has it hard on Tuesdays; I have about 7 hours worth of classes that particular day. Therefore, today being Wednesday, I thought I would compensate for my lack of attention yesterday with a rigorous bike ride... with him attached.

I prepared my bike and the excited puppy-at-heart, and zoom we were off down the unplowed street. Thankfully, hardly any cars pass down my street so we were able to go at full speed for a solid 7 blocks. After making a loop and arriving back at my apartment, his wagging tail told me he was ready for round two. Therefore, by the end of the adventure, he had run intensely for 12 blocks. Upon entering the apartment, I made my way to the couch, breathing heavily like Darth Vader the whole way. Still overflowing with adrenaline, the dog was running circles around me.

Was our exercising experiment really a success therefore? ...considering I am the one on the couch writing this blog, and the old man is happily roughhousing with a bone.

Dancing the niiiight away...

Dancing the niiiiight away... *cough*.... I mean Saturday mornings for the next six weeks.

As most of you know and are already sick of hearing it by now -- I am taking a FLAMENCO dance class for the next six weeks in Peoria, IL (about 50 minutes away). If you are unfamiliar with this particular genre, I would best define it as the elegant and more proper tap-dance of Spain. Okay, that definition does it zero justice! Check it out on YouTube... I am amazed at how each genre demands a different characteristic, a different challenge. With this particular dance, COORDINATION is the factor that flashes in my mind. For instance, today (merely week #2) we learned a 6-step intricate walk/spin combination, along with making the strong, circular movement of the arms and making the traditional Flamenco fingers (in-out-in-out) -- ALL AT ONCE. I made a FOOL out of myself today in class, but that's beside the point, now isn't it? It was grand entertainment... for my comrades.

Also, did I mention that I am taking a HIP-HOP class? Yes, this was last minute. I hadn't planned on it, but the word "regret" is not even close to becoming alive. Now this genre of dance demands a constant awareness of steps. Whereas in other genres you have a transition time or step into the next move, THERE IS NO SUCH THING as a moment to breathe within hip-hop. Boring is the last adjective to describe it. Whenever I was in Chile, I got to learn this for the first time ever (go figure, in South America). Every last Chilean came to ME for hip-hop moves... until they found out this this poor American had no such moves in her inventory. It was the funniest phenomena to see how they perceived that every American is an out-of-this-world professional with a little yo-yo-yo sass in the genre. Not such much... Even today, I still have a long way to go. Don't doubt the stick though!! :)

Needless to say, every Saturday my heart is happy, my feet are smiling and my knees are sore beyond reason. I know dancing has a time and a place -- but as Americans, we hardly dance, even in its right time and place!! I enjoy this art form. I am not perfect by any means. But, I am ready to learn! One of my absolute favorite sights is being in an Hispanic country and seeing a 70-year-old couple dancing the merengue with all their might, through all the night.

Bust out a move ever so often please. Just sayin'
Buenas Noches.

Jots of Randomness

It has been only two months since I have last blogged (an official word in our contemporary dictionaries, ahh, linguistics) ... and yet with all the ACTIVITY of life, it feels more like six. I have decided to merely give you the snapshot this time around, instead of the full-length video. Snapshots are like random revelations received while eating out and further writing such delights on napkins. Simple yet delightful napkins...

First week in APARTMENT: Oven thinks that 250 degrees means BROIL. Delicious chocolate chip cookies along with beautiful, new cookie sheet completely destroyed -- with a side of shattered nerves from both the canine and the tenant.

Second week in apartment: Got locked out of apartment at 7:30am while in pjs, glasses, moldy teeth and mind not fully engaged. 4 step creative process in getting back inside.

Tenth week in apartment: Smelled gas after furnace was lit for first time. Nobody believed me. Called gas company and girl was right. Landlord sends repairman to fix the issue. Ohhh, but gas leak the following day yet again. Tenant calls landlord not so happy. After three days of dealing with the lethal issue, canine and tenant are appreciating fresh oxygen like never before. Talk about some pooped guardian angels.

First week in GRAD SCHOOL: Found there is an immense difference between over-the-top intellects and outright nerds. I being the latter.

Second week in grad school: Amazed by all the preparation and reading involved. Over 500 pages were read in one week's time, more than was read in the entire summer of 2010.

Fourth week in grad school: BREAK DOWN week. It has to happen sooner or later.

Sixth week in grad school: Getting used to the 8am-11pm schedule. Getting used to absolutely no social life. Getting used to reading endless amount of droll theory. Never getting used to the intellects.

Napkin revelations next time will include...
FLAMENCO dancing classes starting October 9th.

Goodnight ladies and gentlemen.

Canine Criminal

Take a CLICK.
My life is NEVER BORING!!

http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=414275152820&id=149701984&ref=mf

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In Other Words...

This past Sunday, we sang a new worship song but based on an old, familiar verse.
Luke 10:27 : "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind."

Right in the middle of the song, I received this simple yet somehow profound interpretation of the song lyrics.

In other words,
"Love the Lord" -- GLORIFY HIM ...
heart = emotionally
mind = intellectually
strength = physically
all wrapped up into "soul" = spiritually

This might seem quite obvious, but each of these areas play out differently in our lives. Each of us struggle with maybe one more than the other. Some struggle with logic getting in the way of our faith (loving Him with all our mind), or maybe we are constantly looking to a significant other to fill empty holes of our life (loving Him with all our heart), or maybe we think we are all-sufficient with our muscles, height and external features (loving Him with all our strength). Either way, all three components should be encapsulated by loving Him with our soul. Doing every task, thinking every thought, seeing every situation-- with the intention of glorifying Him.

How hard is this verse to live out?
HARD.

But thank goodness HE ALONE is perfect. :)

El Día de Juventud

EL DÍA DE JUVENTUD.
Hispanic Youth Day

This summer I wanted to volunteer. I didn't think it would be that hard... The local churches didn't have many outreaches; the Salvation Army YELLED at me; the soup kitchen didn't need any more help; and lastly, I called a local Catholic church. The secretary gave me six different organizations in a matter of 15 minutes. My mouth dropped to the floor with all the (good) temptation. To make a long story short, after I found my Hispanic ministry connection with Sister Cecilia, they quickly got me on board with the different events.

This past Saturday, I volunteered at an event called, "Hispanic Youth Day." It was the Protestant version of a one-day VBS. It was glorious. AND BEST OF ALL.... I was trapped in by 90 HISPANIC CHILDREN. That's what some people (or just me) would call heaven on earth.

Having volunteered with various companies and organizations in the past 10 years, one of my biggest pet peeves is when they don't really need my help. I like for them to keep me BUSY with work. Use me up, by golly! Well, from 8:30am-5:30pm, they most definitely did. From small group discussions, to serving tables, to helping with art projects, to distributing prizes, and just speaking Spanish to my heart's content.

Here comes the teacher-ese talk: BEWARE. I find that second generation children -- meaning they are living in the USA but their parents are natives of another country -- are by far the most interesting case study within the linguistics world. Their accents, the intercultural experiences, and their perspectives on the two languages they speak. In the majority of cases, the children have this rebellious period where they don't see the point of L2 (which in this case would be Spanish, since English is the primary language of the surrounding environment). Interesting to observe and think about.

Anyway, by the end of the day, most of the cuties knew me as the crazy, Spanish-speaking Isabel. It tends to be a pattern in my life. At least, they didn't call me "jirafa" this time. :)

***
I don't know how to explain my passion to most people, especially with all the economic tension in the air surrounding immigration policies. If I personally am being insulted and pressured because of my passion for the Spanish language and culture, I can only imagine what the illegal AND legal Mexicans must hear and endure. I am in no way in favor of breaking our Constitution or the laws of the United States, but neither am I in favor of unempathetic and hateful comments hurled at the Hispanic society in an egocentric way. Take it or leave it. I am neither stating a political belief here nor will I elaborate upon its sub-categories; I merely want to make an observation. Politically, I actually see both sides of the spectrum. Nonetheless, I would encourage anyone reading this to make an effort to separate the illegal actions from the person himself -- which is required a lot in life, no?

Well, I don't where that tangent came from, but I decided to keep it in my blog. It gives a small picture of the things I've heard in this last year I suppose. Please leave comments if desired. :)

In the meantime, I am off to see if any soup kitchen in the whole state of Illinois or Missouri might need my services...

EWK Semi-Ode

One may ask...

What is this EWK she speaks of?

Why should I invest into one?

You have every right to ask. And every right to be convinced.

THE ELECTRIC WATER KETTLE!

Gurgle, sizzle, steam goes the EWK on the kitchen counter;

all the while the curious eyes watch as water boils in less than 3 minutes.

Oh, all the uses for dihydrogen monoxide during the frigid winter hours.

The stove top takes too long for boiling.

The microwave bubbles it all over, and double ouch while trying to take it out.

So whatever is left to do? Super EWK to the rescue, dear one.

When the luxury of central heating is not at a finger's touch,

you, my EWK, are ever-faithful, filling the water bags of millions.

Simply place it on the table during dinner and every member is catered to --

with the potential of tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other lovely creations.

You MUST refuse ice cube transformation, don't you know?

Please and thank you. I'll grab the blanket to accompany the luscious warmth.

Chile, Ireland, Scotland and other far-off lands have discovered this hidden jewel!

Yet how does such a silver, sassy EWK make winter survivable?

It just does. So give it a try. The EWK beckons you hither...