Sneaky Stress

Hi guys,

Ever notice how stress can sneak up on a girl? Y'know - you trundle along, thinking everything's all good, you're on your month off, life is sweet... then you send a cover letter with two colours of font in it (d'Oh), lose your wallet (find it again, thank goodness), stick the wrong stickers on the new tokens for Settlers of Catan, Cities and Knights (cry in the bathroom), and burn your finger on a PopTart. That's when you realize that, despite your month off's best efforts, you're stressed anyway.

Guess where I'm at? Yeah. Stressed. Worried about school starting, finding a part-time job, writing my prospectus, fitting everything into a new schedule.... It's kind of been eating away at me over the last week or so, and I didn't really realize it til today. I guess that I need to get organized, even though it's my time off. Tomorrow afternoon I plan to sit down and map out a schedule for this week, in order to feel that I'm making productive use of my time. I'm hoping to accomplish two things with this: 1) actually get stuff done (e.g., going into the lab, writing my thesis), and 2) actually relax during my time off. We'll see. :)

Today was a pleasant day, even if I DID cry over putting the wrong stickers on the Settlers' tokens. ;) Jason and I met up with Kathie and Brandon at an auction house, to check out the goodies. Katie and Jason got bored before the auctioneer made it around to the stuff Brandon was semi-interested in, so we picked up what we'd purchased (K&B: ramen noodles, Cheezies and apple juice - a well rounded meal!; Jason: 3 pots for $12.50!) and headed out. J. and I went to West Ed to pick up Cities and Knights, and spent close to an hour just trying to find a parking spot. The mall was stupid busy! I guess that's what happens when it's back-to-school time and the weather is awful. :) We finally got our game, and headed of to play with K. and B. The game was pretty frustrating for me at first, because I didn't understand any of its subtleties. About 2/3 of the way through it started making sense, and I really started to enjoy it. It's more complex than Settlers, and also longer, both of which combine to mean that it's easier to catch up if you fall behind. I'm excited to play again - I think that I can do a lot better next time.

Tomorrow I'm teaching Jr. Church - it's all about Noah, so I think we're going to build an ark out of chairs and pretend to be animals, and then I think it might be a lazy afternoon. Jason's encouraging me to explore sculpting, since I enjoy baking bread so much (I love manipulating the dough!), so maybe I'll give that a shot. His flat is lacking a backgammon board, so he said that if I made the pieces, he would make the board. I think it's a nice idea for a first attempt for me - something simple, and fairly craft-like (as opposed to art-like). We'll see how it goes.

And to end this post, a semi-funny, semi-painful story. (The best kind, really!)

Those Bloody WingDings

Wednesday evening, about 7 o'clock, Jason and I are hungry.

"The Stonehouse does Wing Wednesday, hun," I say. "Why don't we go there?"

Jason readily agrees, and we head off to the pub. Once there, we take a couple stools at the bar, as the tables are all full, order a couple of pints, and start chatting with the bar staff. After glancing over the wing section on the menu, we place our order.

"We'd like an order of the Greek wings, an order of the Cajun Salt and Pepper, and an order of your WingDing hot wings," Jason says.

The bartender raises an eyebrow. "The WingDing hot wings?" he asks. "You sure about that? They're REALLY hot."

"That's fine," Jason shrugs. He eats hot foods all the time, and is rarely phased by anything a restaurant refers to as being 'really spicy.'

Grinning, the waiter replies "Alright then, I'll bring you the waiver to sign."

Jason and I both laugh, but it's cut short when the waiter lays a two-page waiver form on the bar in front of us. It turns out that if a person can eat all 12 hot wings in a reasonable amount of time they'll win free wings the next time, and a chance at winning a hundred bucks.

"Might as well give it a shot," Jason says as he signs his name. I mostly ignore him as I read the warnings about death, doom, and diarrhea at the foot of page one.

The waiter hustles off to shout in our order, and the two regulars on the stools next to us begin throwing their two cents in.

"They are REALLY hot," the first man says. "I only made it through two before I had to give up."

"Whatever you do, DON'T touch your eyes after eating 'em" chimes in the second man.

"Yeah! That's fer damn sure," the first one replies. He pauses, then adds "And wash yer hands BEFORE you take a leak. Learned that one the hard way." He nods sagely, then takes another swig of his beer.

Not too much later, our wings appear. Jason grabs his first WingDing, and chows down.

"How is it," I ask.

"Not bad," he says. "All heat and no flavor - just like I suspected."

"Can you finish them all?" the bartender asks.

"Yeah, no problem."

Two more wings in and the tears are running down Jason's face. I've seen him eat a lot of spicy food before, but I've never seen him cry doing it.

"You Ok, hun?" I ask.

"Yeah, but these are THE spiciest wings I've ever had. They don't taste like anything though - they're just HOT. I wonder if they're seasoned with something synthetic."

I keep eating my wings (the more ordinary ones), and am disappointed with how flavorless they are. I glance over again at Jason, tears streaming now, looking somewhat ashen.

"Jason?" I ask. "You Ok?"

"I can't eat anymore," he says, pushing the plate away. "I'm feeling really sick."

He gets up and heads for the washroom. The bartender clears the plate away, and returns to ask "Do you think he'd like a glass of milk?"

"He's lactose intolerant," I reply. "A glass of milk would only make things worse."

Jason returns, looking a bit better, but still not so good. "The heat didn't get to me," he says. "It's just that whatever's in them is really making my stomach rise."

We finished up our regular wings and headed for the door. About a block into our 4 block walk, Jason suddenly stops, grabbing his stomach.

"I thought I was feeling better," he gasped, "but suddenly I feel awful. How far to your place?"

"Just a few more blocks," I say, worried.

We hurry on. Another block into the walk, and Jason drops to his alongside the grass. "I think I'm going to be sick," he says, turning an awful shade of puce. He kneels there, heaving, for a moment or two, before he staggers to his feet.

"I can't do it. I feel awful, but I can't be sick."

We hurry along for another block, when Jason suddenly stops again. "How much further to your place?" he asks.

"Just another block, sweetie. C'mon, let's hurry."

Halfway through the last block, Jason suddenly gasps out, "Ela, will you still love me if I s**t my pants?"

I pause, think about it for a moment, and say "Yes, Jason. I will still love you, EVEN if you s**t your pants. But there's only 1/2 a block left - you can make it!"

In the end, we DID make it back to the condo in time, and poor Jason spent a very agonizing evening being unable to either throw up or to be tormented by Montezuma's Revenge. Instead, he got to lay perfectly still and drink nothing. The slightest movement or the smallest beverage made his stomach explode into agonies of pain. Eventually able to sleep, he awoke the next morning feeling much better, if not 100%.

Watch out for the WingDings.

Ela

Ela's Soapbox Presents: The Language of Touch

Way back on July 4 I wrote a post about touch in today's society. I promised another post regarding the language of touch... and here it is.

The Language of Touch

It's becoming common knowledge that our spoken words convey only 7% of the message that we communicate when we're talking to someone in person. The other 93% of the information is conveyed through our posture, body language, and tone of voice. It's why communicating via email or instant messaging is so fraught with danger - you're missing out on a LOT of information, and misunderstandings are rampant.

Clearly, humans do a lot of non-verbal communicating. Usually we think of tone of voice and body language as examples. I believe that a third category, or perhaps a subcategory of body language, is touch. As in, touching others. The most obvious examples of this are mothers with young children (you can tell just by how they hold their infants how much they love them) and people in dating relationships (everyone recognizes that little kiss on the forehead as the universal symbol for "I have tender feelings for you"). What's unfortunate is that communicating through touch seems to be limited to these two areas.

With regards to mothers and children, this is an area that's changing. It's much more common today to see men being physically affectionate with their young children. I think that this is fantastic. Our physical dads automatically create ideas within us about what our heavenly father is like - and I am utterly convinced that God wants to hug us. :) What's sad is that physical touch within many families (not all, I know) tends to become vastly reduced as the children reach puberty. I think that this is a set-up for disaster: teens no longer have any of their touch needs met at home, touch isn't encouraged in platonic relationships, so they seek it out in romantic relationships. What if we continued to tell our children that we loved them via touch even after they hit adolescence? What changes could that trigger?

And of course we 'tell' our significant others that we love them through touch all the time. The aforementioned kiss on the forehead, holding hands, frequent hugs. My question: why are these things limited to romantic relationships? What's wrong with pulling an "Anne of Green Gables" and walking hand-in-hand with a friend? (Ok, homophobic men - I know what you're thinking. But how about man-hugs? [You know - where you stand two feet apart and sort of awkwardly pat each others shoulders.] Or a gentle punch in the shoulder?? *grin* Or even just an old-school handshake?)

I can hear voices yelling at me "why do we need to use touch? I tell my friends and family that they matter to me by using words!" Please don't misunderstand me: words are important. I'm a speechie, after all! It's just that words don't need to be advocated for - people use those quite a bit. :) The problem with never using touch with people who aren't children or your significant other is that you lose the habit of it. The less you touch them, the more awkward it becomes to do so later on. This is fine while things are good, while words are adequate for the situations you're in. But what happens when things are in a worse place?

What do you say to someone who has lost someone whom they love? What words do you offer to a person struggling with mental illness? What do you tell your friend whose life is falling apart? I don't know about all of you, but when I'm upset, the last thing that I want is a string of meaningless platitudes: "It's alright, everything will be Ok, it'll all work out...." Sure, maybe everything will work out - but RIGHT NOW it sucks. RIGHT NOW I'm sad, and I'm hurting. I want you to be here with me RIGHT NOW, not in the future when everything's hypothetically all better (God forbid it not get better - then what would we do??). You see where I'm heading, right?

When your friend needs you RIGHT NOW and there are no words to offer to her, you can hold her hand, hug her, hold her while she weeps. Touch lets you communicate that you love her, support her, care for her, and will help to bear her burdens. All of that without having to whisper one pointless statement about how everything will be so much better later on. And it is so much easier to provide this kind of touch when you've been practicing it all along. You can communicate other things through touch, too: support, contentment, joy. It's a whole 'nother language!

While I've been very pro-touch in this little diatribe, I do want to offer up a word of caution. Touch is a language that we all speak, but we all speak different 'dialects.' What's just a hug to me ("I like hanging out with you, my friend") might be a message of "I'd like you to ask me out on a date" to a certain man. Standing close to a friend to show support might be interpreted as you being overbearing and pushy. Touch is a language that is deeply emotional, so miscommunications have the potential to be especially damaging. Using verbal support can help keep you 'speaking clearly' in touch. (E.g., "I'm a hugger - I hug ALL of my friends!") The other thing you should use your words for is 'checking.' Y'know - making sure the person you're touching is Ok with it. Some people are just NOT touchers, and you're just going to make them grumpy if you're all over them. Checking is a good idea: "Hey, I'm a hugger. I hug all of my friends, usually - is it Ok if I hug you??"

Provided that scaffold your touch with words, I think that you can share deeper, more emotionally charged messages with your friends and family if you speak to them via touch. Go ahead - reach out and touch someone. ;)


Love,
Elizabeth

Exciting

Hi guys,

I heard back from DriveABLE today, and am going in for interview on Friday morning at 10 (the delay was due to their HR woman being on holiday). If you have a moment, you might say a little prayer that I'll be calm and not chatter their heads off. :D

I had a lovely birthday last week, with lots of birthday greetings from friends (yay for Facebook), time spent with family, and a trip to the horse races with Jason. "Dover! Move yer bloomin' arse!" We made $3. I won't tell you how much we lost. ;) A good time was had by all! Last night we had dinner with his mum and grandparents, which was lovely. His granny and grandfather gave me Godiva chocolates as a gift... and I'm doing a TERRIBLE job of rationing them out.

Given my inability to hold onto chocolate, I went out for a run this morning. My endurance isn't as good as it was, but I managed to get in a good thirty minutes, so I'm feeling pretty fantastic. I'm planning to go again tomorrow - provided my legs don't hurt too much. * grin *

I'm off to turn on the oven and throw in a roast. We're having it with mashed potatoes and green beans/spinach sauteed with garlic. Nummers.

Love ya,
Ela

Job Love

Hi guys!

I thought that it was high time for some lighter fare, so this evening I'm going to share some stories from current research assistantship with you.

Right now I'm working a few hours a week in the lab digitizing audio clips from old VHS tapes. This involves finding the right child on the tape, and going through about 20 minutes of a session to 'cut out' about 20 individual words. These words are then being analyzed by a post doc student down in Texas; she's looking at vowel errors in children with southern accents. (Interesting aside: for a long time it was assumed that children with speech impediments only had problems with consonants. This is patently untrue, but there were no measures available to assess vowel errors. A woman in our department [who at that time was working down in Texas] developed one of the first tests for vowel errors. Very cool!)

So I sit in front of a computer, with a TV off to my right, and watch cute little kids with southern accents name pictures of objects (e.g., 'hat' 'boy' 'couch'). And while I sit there, I giggle madly. It's just too darn cute. Examples to follow!

The clinician and the child were looking at a picture with a bowl of popcorn and a bowl of peanuts in it.

"What's this?" asked the clinician.
"Popcorn," replied the child.
"And this?"
"Peanuts."
"Very good!" the clinician responded.
"I said 'penis'!" the child giggled.
The clinician was momentarily stunned, then turned the page and pointed to a cake, asking "what's this?"

Another clinician and another child were looking at a picture of a toy airplane together.

"What's this?" asked the clinician.
"A plane," the child answered.
"Can you tell me the big name for it?" the clinician queried.
"A PLANE," the child yelled.

Yet another clinician and another child were looking at a picture of a barn surrounded by common farm animals (a horse, a cow, and a pig). The clinician was trying to get the child to name the cow.

"What's this?" the clinician questioned.
"Ummm..." hemmed the child.
"We get milk from it," prompted the clinician.
"Umm..." the little girl hawed.
"It goes 'moo...'"
"It's a MOOSE!" bellowed the girl.

Now, for this last one, you must picture an adorable little black girl, about four years old. She's a non-rhotic speaker: she drops her 'r's. She sounds a little bit like she's from Boston ('pahk the cah in the garahge') but more southern. She was looking at a picture of a birthday cake with the clinician, and was excitedly telling the adult all about her own birthday the week before:

"I had a bethday pahty at Chuckeh Cheese!"

Hope you enjoyed a peek into my RAship!

Love,
Ela

*insert something witty here*

Hi guys,

I was right in thinking that I'd have more time to blog now that clinic is done. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have anything to say. :) I figured it was about time to dust off the keyboard, though, so here I am.

My break hasn't really sunk in yet. I've been trying to get up in the mornings and go into the lab for a couple hours, as well as to work on my prospectus. I've had some success with this, but am by no means perfect. :) There have also been a bunch of little things that have popped up - family visiting, errands to run, phone calls to make... y'know, the stuff that just eats up time.

I suppose the most salient thing that's happened recently is that Jason (who was previously called Robert in this blog, but will now be referred to by his real name) and I hit a bump in the road. The kind of bump that forces the road to fork: find a middle ground or end things. After a really tough couple days where I'm not sure either one of us felt like we were being heard and miscommunications abounded (something that's unusual for the two us), we managed to actually hear what the other was saying, and to start working our way forward. It was a terrifying experience, to be honest. I love Jason very much, and facing the fact that just loving him might not be enough to hold our relationship together was an incredibly difficult experience. However, some long, tough conversations and some hard work later, we're back on track, planning a future together.

The whole situation with Jason forced me into a place where I had to evaluate some of my religious beliefs in order to determine why I believed them. Growing up in a Christian community means that I take a lot of things 'on faith,' and don't really investigate them for myself. Sorting out what I believe and why was challenging, and it brought me face to face with the fact that there are a lot of issues where there are just no black and white answers. I happen to like black and white answers. I might not like what they entail, but at least I always know where things stand. It was frightening for me to realize that I had to reason my through my beliefs, using whatever biblical guidance was available, but ultimately make up my own mind. I'm not convinced that I fully understand my own beliefs at this point, but I'm certainly farther along than I've ever been before. What I still hold to be one of the main pillars of my beliefs is the necessity of 'keeping people.' This entails making sure that you are doing what is best for those around you, and not just for yourself.

Keeping people can be easy at times. When things are good, when you're all headed in the same direction, it's easy to think about those you're close to. But when you start struggling, when you're heading down different paths, it becomes so, so easy to accidentally hurt someone. I realize that I'm a spoilt, self-centred woman in many ways, and I am very, very good at inadvertently hurting those around me. I believe that God is using the past couple weeks as a lesson to me about how thoughtlessness can cause a lot of pain to the people that I care about. I think those actions are some of the hardest for me to step up and take ownership of... I feel that, since it was accidental, I should be 'off the hook.' That might be nice, but it's sure not going to resolve anything. I'm learning that I'm responsible for what I do - intentional or accidental. And that therefore, I need to be more thoughtful of those around me. Growth like this isn't necessarily easy, or fun, but I like who I am when I'm growing. It's good to know that I won't keep making the same mistakes over and over, and that I'm capable of moving beyond this. Just give me time!

And that's it for now... I'm meeting Al for lunch, then dropping some stuff off at Jason's work, then hanging out with Michael. Busy busy!!

Love,
ela