Last night I was doing a sword form (ipsun do?) and Master came over and hugged me and said "ooh shay look like black belt martial artist now," and I can't for the life of me figure out why he said that. It was nice, though.
Tomorrow I work with Billy Bob Thorton.
I just finished 200 pages of expository text on russian imperial expansion. 250 pages to go and I'll be caught up.
Two days til we move into our house. I still want a Westie Terrier.
SGL, 4:05pm
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Granny died on Sunday. Dad, Ez and I drove to Baton Rouge as soon as we heard. It was my first experience with open casket, with funeral service, with a burial. It made me hate the passing of time. It made me see the heartbeat as a clock, ticking away, creeping toward its last beat. It made me realize that rules aren't made to be broken; it made me realize what the rules are. The rules are, once you die that's it. Your body stays underground, or spread around in ashes, or whatever it is you choose, but that's IT. No more breakfast, no more Yahtzee, no more chastizing the dog for barking inappropriately. No more words, no more smiles, no more experiences here, with me, with us, with anyone. I know this seems obvious, but I didn't quite get it before. That's it, and forever in my life time that's all the Granny I get. My memories have to last me, but I want to scream because they're not enough. I stomp my foot like a child and say NO, don't be gone, come back, please, I need you to come back. But after 8 hours spent near the body, I know it's not possible.
The rules are, the pain is inside and untouchable by anyone on the outside. Hugs don't make it go away. Chocolate doesn't make it go away. It's there and forever it will be a painful spot, a sad spot, a past spot. Mom hurts and I just see it and can do nothing. NOTHING.
I thought once I got home I'd stop crying, but I haven't. Maybe you should never like your relatives so much as friends, because then the end hurts too much. The end. And it does hurt like hell.
SGL, 10:59pm
Friday, January 24, 2003
It's amazing how many things contribute to how I feel about myself each day. Clothes, makeup, the amount of sleep I got, what I'm facing in the day, and, very importantly, smell. I have a dozen different perfumes from which to choose each morning. Today is Creed's Silver Mountain Water, a 250$ bottle of perfume which makes me feel very glamorous.
Ali and I just found out we got the house we wanted. The guy was holding off, waiting for a better offer (because Ali talked him down $50/month), but finally gave in to us. We sign the lease tomorrow and get the keys in a week. I'm so happy. It's a 2 story 2/2 with a garage for ali, a fenced in back yard for a BBQ pit and my dream lap puppy (westie terrier), a huge kitchen, and a fireplace. AND it's 2 blocks from the Dojang. good stuff.
Last night I partnered with Michele and we were working on grappling techniques. Master stopped the class midway and said "Look at girls, that's how it should be done, they very dangerous girls." and made us demonstrate for the whole class. After class he said "that's the first time my life I see woman better technique than man."
It's the weekend. Hot damn.
SGL, 10:49am
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
I think most stupid people don't know they're stupid. "Ignorance is bliss" is probably often true. But in my case, I'm stupid and I KNOW I'm stupid. It's an excruciatingly painful way to live.
In my Russia: Empire and Nation class yesterday I was one of 15 sitting at tables in a circle, all discussing some articles on nationalism ("the national movement," maybe is more accurate). Everyone was contributing, everyone was vying to answer the questions first, and I sat motionless, mouth slightly agape, trying desperately to have an original thought and articulate it before someone else did. The whole time "stupid stupid stupid stupid" was running through my head.
The good news is, everytime someone spoke the teacher would ask their name and write it down. But when I finally managed to raise my hand, he nodded to me and said "go ahead, Shayna" which means he KNOWS MY NAME.
That's enough for me.
Training tonight. If I'm lucky, I'll get out of work in time to help with kids' class.
SGL, 9:32am
Sunday, January 19, 2003
Sunday night. I'm exhausted, but reluctant to go to sleep, reluctant to give up my (imaginary) hold on the weekend.
Ali bought a new computer today. He's putting it together now, blaring the TV, oblivious to the passing of our free time. I wonder if I'd be happier if I were that way, unaware of the finite fun time, the impending week. I'm such a jackass.
I'm not sure what I have on the calendar for this week. I have class, which I already hate, dread, resent. I have Tukong, toward which I look forward but about which I still have fear. A test is scheduled for a month from now. I'm terrible, I don't even deserve the blue belt I wear now, how could I possibly test so soon? But could I bear to let all my partners go on without me? Again, I'm such a jackass.
Ali and I have decided to cook at home this week. Really I've decided it, and emotionally blackmailed him into it. We must cut costs, we must get the duplex we found today, we must get out of debt. I say this to him and he stares at me. His eyes say, "you're a jackass."
bed time.
SGL, 10:35pm
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
Tukong last night was amazing. Hard training kicks, punches, neck chops, sweating, jump rolls, followed by a lecture about the heart, and how you must leave your past behind you in order to live forward. Good stuff.
Tonight I must skip because it's the first night of classes. My russian history class seems nice, fun, and very educational. Lit class is next.
I'm reading a book about Mastery, which so nicely shows how America is waging war on mastery of anything, flooding us with promises of instant results with no effort, get rich quick schemes, diet pills, etc, leaving us with the idea that our life should be one climax after another, without any in between space. The book's thesis is that it's in the plateau that we develop the necessary tools/memories/comfort with things to have the peaks, and that the plateau is not a bad place to be at all. This is a good lesson for me. Maybe a good lesson for you, too.
SGL, 6:26pm
Monday, January 13, 2003
So down lately. I feel owned by material things, weighted down by them. Ali and I found a lovely little house to rent, but we'll lose it because our apartment complex tricked us out of a month's rent. I trip through our small apartment now, the things piled up on all sides, demanding attention. My car battery died, my brakes are going out, my alignment's off, I owe $9k. Why can't we go back to horses? Neigh.
I have no passion, no dream, no light. I have obligation and ritual and habit. I have high bills. I am lonely, and nothing much burns within except the desperate desire to have something burning within. I love Tukong, want to be great at Tukong, but more and more I'm terrified in class. Terrified that I'll hurt myself, that I'll disappoint Ali, that I'll alienate Master, that I'll fall short of the expectations held of a Blue Belt, that I'll fail.
Tried to shop away the gloom but found myself too fat and ugly to spend money clothing. Went home empty handed. Drank coffee.
Monday again.
SGL, 12:41pm
Thursday, January 09, 2003
Everything is so overwhelming. It feels like I've gone under, trapped in ferocious waves and powerful currents, unable to find the surface.
Death seems everywhere. Calculating the dates is so harsh, but so necessary. Everyone around me is scared, hurting, and they retreat to their bedrooms at night, alone, to let go with their own quiet sobs. I only know because now we all look older, and walk heavier. But we can't help one another.
Mom hasn't been home in almost a month now. My grandmother has a tumor which is visibly protruding from her chest. She doesn't recognize her daughters. She can't breathe. The doctor's given 4-6 weeks. I've never been here before. I love her, she's my friend, we were close.
SGL, 12:53pm
Monday, January 06, 2003
I can hardly lift my arms to type, they're weak and suffering from last night's Tukong training. First we ran 10 laps around the Dojang, did 40 pushups, and 20 leg lifts. Then we did joint manipulation. The second class was the 1st of a new series called Combat Training. It's an intensive style meant to teach us how to defend in a war. So we learned about rolling away from sight, hiding behind trees, walking silently, stopping quickly, and other fun fun stuff. It was great, but boy am I sore.
Today is my last day of maintenance in my studio. Tomorrow the sessions start. One with a big director (did Titanic?) and I'm nervous, of course. I get Kyle as an assistant, though, so all will be fine.
Here's a poem Ez wrote for school, with a little help from me and Moo:
"Arachnid Abode"
Erudite Scholars come and go
Old Fashioned diner chairs, broken seats,
Knick knacks & posters cover the walls
Contributing to the verisimilitude of
An old school hangout
Anachronistic Beatniks
Pukka hackey sack players
An eclectic mob of invalids
Infected by the soporific epidemic
Seeking solace from the malaise
With the caffeine cure all-
Coffee
Solicitous vagabonds splay
Pierced noses and beyond
Affecting the "holier than thou" attitude
Sculpting theses in the afternoon sun
Narcissistic dropouts beg for tips
A cacophony of voices overwhelms
Le Penseur sits, unmoved
Book pages rippling in the wind
SGL, 10:00am
I guess it's not so bad to be back. I often forget that there are aspects of my job I truly love. The people aren't so bad when they're not purposely antagonizing me. Some of them I actually missed while I was gone.
But boy was being there fantastic. It drizzled the whole time, but it was never cold, just pleasantly cool. We walked from one end of Paris to the other each day. We got to our hotel (right in the Latin Quarter, left bank) at 2ish on Friday. Ali and I immediately hopped on the Metro and went to the Louvre. We stayed til it closed, then headed back to meet Ali's father at the hotel. Ali hadn't seen his dad in almost 2 years, so it was fabulous that they were able to have time together in Paris.
We shopped, we ate amazing food (french, greek, crepes, croissants, cafe cremes), we went to le Tour D'Eiffel, Mussee D'Orsay, Louvre, Rodin Museum, Arc de Triumph, Pantheon, and oh so much more. It was a perfect vacation.
I guess that's it. Being there and coming home makes me see that I stopped, somehow, on the journey to the educated and cultured person I want to be. I've stalled, reached a peak, and I HAVE to find a way to keep going.
But I have to maintain sanity, too, so I think I'm going to drop 3 of the 9 hours for which I'm registered for Spring 03.
SGL, 9:54pm
Friday, January 03, 2003
Thanks for missing me, guys. I'm back now, and will write about it soon. Everything's just as it was before. I'm having trouble believing that just this morning I was enjoying a pain au chocolate (chocolate croissant) in the Latin Quarter. Like a butterfly kiss, light and precious and sweet and fleeting. It almost hurts to be back, with only work and not the trip to look forward to.
Wendy, I can't believe you're not coming back. I'll really miss you.
Bed now. It's 5am in Paris.
SGL, 10:00pm Austin time
"Perhaps the essential role of the ego is to mask from consciousness its very spontaneity." - Jean-Paul Sartre
