tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55730126367810955652024-01-23T00:49:02.374-06:00The Wandering Exchange Student: るろうにんの留学生Hi, I’m Macy! I just returned from a year of study abroad at Ritsumeikan University! Follow my blog to keep up with my adventures as I delve further into Japanese culture as well as my place within the earth, and in return, I’ll pass on lessons from my experience. I apologize for the inconsistent posts, but I will update once or twice a month. Please keep checking back!Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-79223121471446794682014-04-10T22:49:00.003-05:002014-04-10T22:49:17.782-05:00One YearToday marks the anniversary of my graduation into the world of aviation. I became a flight attendant, and this time last year, I was sitting on a really stormy runway, waiting for some cockpit light to work for takeoff. Soon after that, I was in Chicago.<br />
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A lot of things have happened in a year aside from my unexpected entry into a new career. I was debating dropping out of school, wondering when I would get over (if I ever would) a breakup that tore me apart, and debating whatever reality life could throw at me. My grandparents had just moved out of my parents' house after a chaotic move, and I honestly believed I would never have a place to call home.<br />
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Now, things are a bit different. I am still bouncing back and forth between my parents' house and a crashpad in Chicago. I still don't know whether or not I will ever know what I want to be or what I want to do, but I am sure of the things I don't want to do, and I know even more about who I want to be and the type of person I want to be with. I want to finish school, one day approach graduate school to receive a Master's degree, and I've got one month before I graduate from UNT.<br />
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Overall, I'm pretty [insert appropriate expletive here] proud of myself. I won't let myself be abused anymore, by anyone or anything, and I'm ready to take on the world. I am stronger than ever, and I'm not afraid to strive for the things I want. <br /><br />Look out, world. I've got a fresh way of thinking, and I'm letting go of the baggage that once held me down. <br /><br />This seems to be the theme song of the year. <br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=h_L4Rixya64Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-64871901361071803862014-03-18T16:53:00.001-05:002014-03-18T16:53:18.193-05:00Vices and Other Bad ThingsI sit in a hotel room in Germany, fiddling around on my computer. This has been the theme for the day, it seems. I battled a migraine in the morning, finding some odd form of contentment on silly youtube videos while hiding in the darkness. I should have taken that time to read and prepare some notes I had written for my thesis, but the desire just is not there anymore.<br />
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Maybe it is a bout of senioritis that is far overdue, but part of me just does not give a damn anymore. Education, work, relationships all blur into this odd form of consciousness that I just cannot fathom. I jokingly told my friend that I am facing an early quarter-life crisis, but I think I just woke up.<br />
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I have always battled what I've come to call my "inner badass," the voice representing all of my pent-up frustrations, repressed desires, and a hell of a lot of spunk. As I come closer to the day I've waited for--graduation day--I realize that I am still fighting these feelings. There is so much that I want to do, and life is full of experiences that come once in a lifetime. Whether it was missing a chance to sneak out with friends in highschool, go to raves, or get black out drunk at a college party, I opted out of risks. Taking them just seemed, well, too risky. When mentioning this to one of my friends, she laughed and told me that I have "higher standards" than those around me. Another told me that while my nostalgia was fine, I needed to come up with new goals; I can't catch up to the previous timeline I set for myself, nor can I rewind and start from a safe spot. <br />
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So what do I want to do with my life now? <br /><br />There is still an intense desire to return to Japan, the place where I learned more about myself than I could ever have imagined. Yet, after coming to like the flight attendant job a bit more, I found myself falling in love with Germany, Ireland, and more surprisingly, California. (How did that happen?) All four are contenders for graduate school, but after all of the (excuse me) shit that I went through with my home university, do I really want to jump into graduate school right after I graduate? No, not really.<br />
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I know myself well enough to know that I am not spontaneous enough to up-and-move to another state, much less move to another country. Even if it's for a short while, the financial burden of a move is enough to make me flake. Yet, I don't want to give up the opportunity of seeing the world while I am in my prime I have dedicated the last seven years of my life to school and everything school related, and I think it's time to give myself some much needed "Macy Time." <br />
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This means that I am going to start putting myself first. I hope that I'll never be bitchy about it, but I would like to request that those of you reading (especially those of you who know me in person) are patient with me as I explore different realms of my personality. I've always considered myself the "mom" of my group of friends, and at times I felt that I gave more than took in a relationship. Now, that's all well and good when the relationship is balanced on different levels. But I want to encourage my friends--as well as myself--to become more independent.<br />
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One thing I am proud of is my ability to see through my goals. One day I sat and counted the things I wanted to do in life. While some had changed over time, my life goals were a follows: <br />1. Go to Japan (Check)<br />
2. See Hyde in concert (Check)<br />
3. See L'Arc~en~Ciel in concert in Japan (Check)<br />
4. Meet Hyde (Check)<br />
5. Learn one or more languages (Check)<br />
6. Meet Shaun White (Check)<br />
7. Live in Japan (Check)<br />
8. Teach English in Japan (Check) <br />
These aren't in any particular order, but I have pretty much accomplished the things that were important to me. Now I have to ask myself what to do next. <br /><br />I can't even begin to plan it out. It was so clear to me: Work a a flight attendant until I graduate, then move on. Every senior flight attendant I speak to says that they originally planned to work as a flight attendant through college, and they are telling me this 30 years later! (Yikes!) While the job is great, I know that the first 3 years will be a struggle financially, and I can honestly say that the stress of bouncing around the globe and never being in one place for long puts an enormous strain on me emotionally. I don't know how long I will be here realistically, but ideally, I want to be doing something else within two year's time. And by then, I may want to settle down. Whatever I want to do, I need to do sooner rather than later; I don't want to be complacent about my goals, or else I could get stuck in one place.<br />
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While I don't have a clear answer for what I want to do right this moment, I know that I want to be able to have a place of my own within the next year. I'm tired of living out of a suitcase and sleeping on an air mattress. I want to be responsible for a room. I also want to be able to maintain a healthy diet by eating vegetarian or pescatarian diet 5-6 days a week. I want to make more time for exercise, leisure reading, and catch up on Japanese drama and anime. <br /><br />But right now, I want to get ready for bed. It'll be a long day home in the morning.<br />
Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-76658867470813454892013-12-22T21:51:00.003-06:002014-03-18T17:01:00.020-05:00Mister Sandman, please bring me my dreams. <div style="text-align: justify;">
I never thought that I would have sleepless nights outside of Japan. For some reason, my study abroad was plagued by bouts of insomnia. Starting out as a new-hire flight attendant, I was one of the lucky few that found closing my eyes and resting quite easy. The bouncing back and forth between international borders, airports, and lack of a place to really call my own (aside from my suitcase, of course, all seemed to benefit me in getting some good ol' shuteye. Yet, I can't seem to bring myself to let go and travel to dreamland tonight in Dusseldorf, Germany. </div>
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The more I think about it, I feel that the Christmas Holidays have always brought with them some sort of emotional strife. Perhaps it came around the age I stopped believing in Santa, or it could have been around the time I entered high school. Either way, it isn't pleasant. <br />
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I remember the chats I had with friends at Ritsumeikan, sitting by a cold river and drinking fruity cocktails. The Captain, Laura, and I all talked about where we came from, our hopes, and our dreams. I lie awake and wonder where my dreams have gone, what they are now, and if they're changing. Maybe the Sandman took them for awhile to give them a good tweaking. I open my eyes, sigh, and tell myself that this is just another phase where I need to relax, go with the flow of life, and that one day, I'll be rewarded in the end. As the sleep starts to come, I ask myself, "How did I get here?" </div>
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It's all a part of growing up. </div>
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I scramble through profiles on facebook and tumblr and realize that my friends and I have changed so drastically over the course of the four years we've been out of high school. I no longer have fun sleepless nights where I write with my friends. Tennis and music haven't been a part of my life in ages, and I rarely draw or write anything of my own. Are these things in the same place as my dreams? When and where did I lose myself? <br />
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Apart from the philosophical soul searching, I can't help but observe the lack of drive brewing in my former hero and circle of friends. I want to scream and fight the ebb and flow that is dragging us in the tide of whatever this mess may be, but am tired of fighting for my life in this never-ending sea of rip-currents. One more semester to graduate, and the paperwork was screwed up <i>again</i> by the higher-ups in the office. No accountability, and the students are left to drown. </div>
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Perhaps all of this is a mass of pent-up frustration and loathing for the world around me. But when I look at pictures of Japan, my study abroad, and the wonderful people I met there, the world seems more peaceful. It hurts, but I'm so relieved when the tears fall from my eyes. <br />
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Mister Sandman, please don't change that feeling. I'll get back there someday. </div>
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Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-21599870544040245932013-11-30T01:21:00.001-06:002013-11-30T01:21:22.014-06:00Toward the LightAs the school semester begins to come to a close, I find myself fumbling through the stresses of essays, more essays, work, and a series of double whammie ear infections. (Two in one ear!) It's another night of hydrocodone-fueled insomnia. <br /><br />I'm getting older, and nearly a quarter of my life is over. I'm starting to understand what others were saying about, "Don't worry about school." "It's only a grade." And my favorite, "no one will ask you about your GPA when you're older." I'm realizing what makes me happy, what doesn't, and pondering the possibility of spending my life with someone for the rest of my time alive.<br /><br />I guess it's what they call growing up? <br /><br />In any case, I want to be the kind of person that lives life to the fullest. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-83141894971073978582013-09-29T22:02:00.003-05:002013-09-29T22:02:53.779-05:00BeginningLooking back, it's been awhile since I've actually taken the time to sit down and ask myself, "What do I want to do with my life?" Even now, when I ask myself that question, I find myself faced with a heavy silence, and the growing gnaw in my stomach that screams, "I don't know." All I know is that I've gotten off-track, and I need to put my head back on straight. Whether it's forward or back, I need to find the right direction, and rush toward it with reckless abandon.<br />
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I don't know where it happened, but somewhere in the last year, I gave up. Whether I gave up on myself, my dream, or began lying to myself about what I wanted, I'm not sure. I've never been so confused, anxious, and apathetic to the world around me. My friends are smiling, living life without a care, and I"m jealous. I don't understand how such a trivial thing like a smile could make me feel that way, but it happens always.<br />
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I never thought I'd remember high school as a good point in my life. Yet, the more I think about it, the more I miss myself back then. I didn't care what people thought of me, and I pursued what my heart desired. Hours on end, I immersed myself within the things I loved, and some good came out of it.<br />
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When did I start thinking of Japanese as my enemy? When did I toss my love for language out the window?<br />
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I need to start telling myself that I'm not behind everyone else, I'm just in a different place. I'm working, going to school, and finding out a bit more about the world every day. A lot of the time, it sucks not being where I want to be. In fact, it's just painful. One thing I lack, is discipline, and I just need to work harder, keep moving forward, and never forget where I want to be. <br /><br />And right now, more than anything, I want to be standing with my friend, sobbing with happiness as I hear the voice of my dreams. Nothing was more perfect than the L'Arc~en~Ciel concert in Osaka. <br /><br />December 4th, please come quickly. I hope that I can see Hyde again soon, and that his voice will knock be back into place. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-19871791835383219662013-09-15T18:59:00.004-05:002013-09-15T18:59:42.728-05:00Floating in the PagesAs usual, the past few days have been a maze of thoughts, questions, and the journey to finding a solution for all of life's inconsistencies.<br />
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This will be the first full month in which I balance the life of college student and flight attendant. I finally found a professor that was willing to allow me into her class, enabling me to attend university classes at half time, and come two classes closer to graduation. After meeting with my adviser, I changed my degree plan (for the fifth and final time . . . hopefully). In the spring, it's three more classes, and I can finally say, "I'm fucking finished!" <br /><br />Although, I'm having a harder time than usual finding out what I want to write about. The more I try to focus on one or two smaller pieces of the big picture, I find myself immersed in an array of different academic spectra. Linguistics, Anthropology, Literary Analysis, Japanese, Gender Studies, Ethnomusicology, etc.; the list never seems to end. Is this normal, or is it me? <br /><br />I probably have close to two hundred pages of socio-gender-anthro-linguistics articles to read before next week, and I slept away another layover. It's bad for my studies, but it was good for my soul.<br />
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Today is the birthday of the person I love the most, and I have no idea when I'll see him, much less talk with him. This blog really shouldn't serve as anything but a collection of thoughts that are relevant to my study abroad, interest in Japan, and perhaps even self-discovery on a professional or academic level. Yet, I find myself thinking about this person, how much they mean to me, and I wonder if I will ever mean the same to them. I can't help but feel as though I'll always be standing on the sidelines, watching an artist chase his dream. He may love me more than I can imagine, but stomach is nagging away at my thoughts: If he loves me, it would be nice to have him choose me over art, or less selfishly, find a way to balance his priorities. All or nothing is a wonderful quality, but in love, especially in regards to how I feel that I want to be treated, I want to be put first every now and then. Nothing crazy, nothing too high maintenance. I just want to be loved openly. I don't want to be a secret. But enough with my wants. It's his birthday, not mine. <br /><br />Until the day we meet or speak again: Happy birthday, Clyde. I hope that you take hold of your dreams this time around, and you paint away until you're happy. <br />
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In any case, this was not an insightful entry whatsoever. (I doubt they hardly come off as anything other than rants or bouts of complaint and self-pity.) I am happy to be in a place where things are slowly starting to come together. I can only hope that they don't get pulled out from under me any time soon. (Knock on wood)<br />
<br />I should probably find a way to lull myself to sleep. I have a check flight tomorrow, and my manager will be on board. I need to be well-rested. <br /><br />Goodnight, everyone. <br /><br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-30377468885047850162013-08-19T22:54:00.001-05:002013-08-19T22:54:33.647-05:00NostalgiaAs I prepare for a trip to Omaha to visit an old friend, I find myself traveling down some dusty pathways in my head. It's been an interesting few weeks, full of heavy lifting, throwing, drink pouring goodness, which means it's the best of times to take a stroll down memory lane.<br />
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After my last writing--which I think cataloged my flight attendant breakdown--I grew more positive about this job, my school situation, and life in general. I told myself that while these things suck, thinking about just how much I dislike everything will only make it worse. I went about trying to focus on the problem at hand, one at a time, rather than panic looking at the whole picture.<br />
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So, first things first, my parents are working on selling their house. It was a decision that had been slowly on the horizon. They warned me about it when I was in Japan, it was the reason my grandparents moved in, and when they suddenly moved out and back to Houston, it seemed to be the nail that closed the coffin. As much as I'd hate for my parents to leave their house, and I'm sure as much as they would hate to leave their house, it would help them come a bit closer to climbing out of debt. After only a few months, someone made an offer, and with fingers crossed, it will go through and my parents will be a few steps closer to financial freedom.<br />
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Of course, this meant that I needed to participate in one of the best parts of moving: Packing. While those of you that may not know me think I'm being sarcastic, my friends and family are probably laughing because of the opposite. I love packing. Period. Putting objects in boxes/suitcases/bags/cars/houses is just like tetris in real life. It keeps my mind and body busy while my sentimental nutcase finds some eerie source of tranquility. The more I dig through closets, drawers, cabinets, the more I find about a life I lived, but forgot in an instant. The funny thing is, you never realize that you've forgotten something until you try to remember it.<br />
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I can see a drawing that, judging by the year, came from 10th grade, but forget the idea, sound, situation, or muse that inspired it. I can't remember what I did before and after coloring a paper doll in elementary school, and that scares me. It's completely human, but it's a terrifying part of the aging process. No wonder I'm having a hard time finding myself. I've forgotten some of the best parts of my life, and some of them I willed myself to forget on purpose, thinking it would make me happier in the long run.<br />
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One of my instructors once told me that the key to reducing stress is living in the present. When you're worried about what happened or what will happen, you're living in a time outside of now. I feel like this has been going on since I got back from Japan. It's never about now, but later, and when it's not about later, it's about before, when I was happy.<br />
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As I go to bed, it will be a time for myself, my thoughts, and living in the present. Maybe that means it should only be time for sleep. In any case, I will make time for myself in the now, rather than worry about myself in the future. She's a strong girl. She can handle whatever happens.<br />
Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-79886389267716356622013-07-20T19:18:00.002-05:002013-07-20T19:18:16.462-05:00In the AirI never expected that flying would give me so much time to think. It sounds a bit strange, but lately I browse the pockets of my mind as if were my favorite section of a record store. One minute, I'm pushing a cart through the aisle, putting ice into a plastic cup for the man on my left, and the next, I'm contemplating why life presents itself so discretely.<br />
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Perhaps it is a test written into the intimidating "probation" stage of the job, but the last three months of being a flight attendant have made me question my sanity, personality, and character. It may be normal to get lost in your thoughts once in awhile, but I can't tell if this is "normal."<br />
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The more I talk about the difficulties of being a new-hire flight attendant, I'm met with a 50-50 reaction: Pity or No nonsense. As I mention the great benefits, flexibility, etc., I am met with the throbbing weight of negativity the job brings: not-so-great pay, an ironic distance from friends, family, and home, and the unhappiness that comes with being unsettled and powerless. The voice inside my head says, "You have it easy, compared to those who are <i>actually</i> homeless. You have food, decent income, and more importantly, <i>a job</i>. Suck it up and get over it; you're in a good place." Meanwhile, I find myself screaming back, "Then why am I so unhappy? If it's such a good thing, then where is this pain coming from?"<br />
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I know that these are first world problems. I'm a healthy adult who managed to work her way into the field of aviation, gain a career at 21, while still attending school. My feelings of homelessness are nothing compared to those people who sleep on the streets, condemned buildings, and live off of the food that I so regularly waste because I'm not hungry or can't stomach it. I have a place to bathe regularly and enough money to keep myself fed. Logically, I can't complain about anything. I know I must sound like the kid that just got hit over the head with the "real world." I look at myself from the outside and laugh, thinking, "You're just a spoiled kid. Suck it up."<br />
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But even as I write this, my eyes start watering. Am I pathetic? Depressed? What's going on? This job is great, don't get me wrong, but something is out of place. Whether it's me, being off-track somewhere in the course of my life or some other thing I can't actually label, I'm not happy. I blame myself for spreading my goals so thin and try to do too many things at once instead of have the patience and diligence to do them one by one. I ended up crying when other flight attendants asked me how the job is treating me thus far. I don't want to lie and say that everything is great. (Although I end up doing this most of the time.) I want to be honest: I like this job . . . when the people I work with do their job the way it is supposed to be done. Most of the time, though, I find myself hating it because I feel as though I am doing the work of the whole plane. The excitement of flying is gone, and I dread getting on the plane. I'm excited when I can fly with the friends I've made, buy a small new snack at a local grocery store, or work in a premium cabin. Explaining this to my fellow flight attendants, I was met with the reactions I mentioned earlier: Half of the group told me to suck it up and get over it, while the others sympathized and told me that it will be horrible for about a year or two, and then things will get better. Yet, all of them told me that things will be okay, and this broke me.<br />
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Perhaps it's too many things at once: The person I love the most is about to leave the country, and I feel that this job is the one thing keeping me in control of seeing them. Yet, if I dislike this job, and I give it up, it's as though I lose that person forever. I can't just call them and go visit them. Instead, it's more work to see them. Then I ask myself, "But isn't that person worth it? Shouldn't you work hard to see them?" That's countered by, "Then keep the job. Endure it. You can do it. It's not that difficult, and you're good at it."<br />
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I'm trying to catch up to my dreams.<br />
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"How do I graduate school now?"<br />
"Well, you can take classes online."<br />
"I have four left, and the majority are only offered on-campus at the university."<br />
"I guess you'll have to suck it up and go to school, then."<br />
"Can't I just stop and do it all in one semester like everyone else?"<br />
"Why didn't you do that before you took the job?"<br />
"Because the job told me I would be flying 20-30 more hours at higher pay for flying to Japan . . ."<br />
"Well, you should have investigated more before you accepted. If you did your homework, you would know that you wouldn't be flying. You can't complain about it. You decided to take the job and drop out of school."<br />
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The discussion continues, and I feel as though the world is lecturing me.<br />
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I guess I should stick to the mantra, "Everything will be okay," even though a part of me is suffocating thinking about what will happen in the future.<br />
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It's supposed to be fun not knowing what will happen, but the anxiety of it all has really been eating at me. It hits as soon as the lights dim in the cabin, service is complete, and the majority of passengers are sleeping. As I open a can of coke and take a sip, the scenario repeats, and I find myself up in the clouds. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-9703748128212742912013-07-14T00:16:00.000-05:002014-03-18T16:59:06.000-05:00Never Let Me GoAfter a long hiatus of airline training, flying overseas, and getting lost in my thoughts, I finally decided it may be good to write and communicate my thoughts with the rest of the world.<br />
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The last six months have been challenging and all over the place. Nothing seems to be in my control, and I can't stop rolling down whatever hill I stumbled over. The positives remain that I was recently hired as a flight attendant, and after undergoing two-and-a-half months of training, I've become accustomed to living out of a suitcase, traveling the world, and interacting with over 600+ people on a 72 hour (or less) basis. It's not necessarily what I thought I'd be doing with my life, but for someone who is 21 and still enrolled in college, I guess it's not a bad lifestyle. I have health insurance, discounted travel perks, and I'm constantly moving in-and-out of a multicultural environment.<br />
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Yet, it felt strange reading about college graduation plans, JET Program interviews, and graduate school acceptance letters over facebook. Most of my classmates and good friends have moved past the undergraduate milestone and are moving onto bigger things. Although my parents and some dear friends remind me that there are plenty of exceptions to my previous statement, I can't help but find myself longing for my undergraduate degree. I'm not happy, and I need to pull myself back up this hill.<br />
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It's not that life for me is horrible. Again: Free and/or discounted travel perks, paid to fly internationally, health insurance, and a very flexible work schedule. Everything should be easy, right? If I have a schedule conflict, I can plan my work flights around whatever else I need to prioritize. I no longer have to tough out being sick to the point of near hospitalization because I can now afford to go to the doctor, and if I want to visit my friends in New York or California, why not hop on a plane and go? Well, I wish things were that easy. Needless to say, every job has a probationary period, and until then, it's better to play by the rules than to force them to bend.<br />
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I never disliked commuting to work until recently. It's not that it's too difficult or expensive, I'm just land-sick, if that makes sense. When I'm not working on a plane, I spend my time traveling home on one, or flying back to work. This problem may get better if I transfer bases or get an apartment or crashpad closer to my current base. Until my new-hire finances get in order, though, this (I should say the apartment, specifically, because I have one) is a little too budget-tight for comfort. I'd like to spend my time at home actually AT home, rather than worried about how many hours I have to wash clothes, take my uniform to the dry cleaners, cuddle my dogs, talk to college advisers about returning to class, help my parents move . . . The list is exhausting thinking about it now, and I'm typing this from my bed. <br />
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My parents are selling their house, well, trying to, and have been battling their finances for about the last 5 years. (At least, that's when they started becoming a bit more vocal about their struggles.) I feel somewhat homeless. I'm not comfortable enough in my apartment to call it home, and I never really got a chance to settle into my parents house again after I got back from Japan. I had only started unpacking into my room when my parents told me that my grandparents would be moving into my bedroom, so I started sleeping on the couch, cleaning out the spare (read: storage) room to make way for me. Although, to be fair, it was also my way of detaching myself from my bedroom completely; something in my gut told me I wouldn't be moving into that room again. My grandparents moved in around the time I was hired for the airline. And in the middle of my training, only after being at the house about two-and-a-half months or so, they moved out. Despite paying for a new room addition, barn, and touch-ups to the house, my grandparents left my parents with a bigger house than they can afford. Now I'm not even at the house long enough to pay rent, look for a cheaper place to live, or even live there and help them with the little I can pay for my room. <br />
<br />
I guess that's a long-winded way of saying: It sucks to feel homeless and then live from a suitcase. (To which many people reply: Better than actually being homeless; I agree.)<br />
<br />
Perhaps this is a really wordy way of saying that I'm unhappy with where I am in life right now, and it started out as a way of motivating myself to do something about it. When I look at my ex-boyfriend, who is still my best friend (and dare I say it, soul mate), I see that he's doing things he wants to do. He tried being an artist, and sadly, didn't rise to fame (at least not yet!), but he's striving forward to try something new. For now, he doesn't know what, but he knows that he wants to go somewhere new and start over clean. I admire his ability to just pick everything up, move forward, and set a new goal for himself. He's going to Australia on a Working Holiday Visa. That's way too cool.<br />
<br />
For my own sake, I've told myself that right now, I know the following:<br />
1) I want to be close to my best friend<br />
2) I want to graduate from school<br />
3) I want to apply for the JET program after graduation<br />
4) I'm not happy being a flight attendant<br />
<br />
It's not a sure-fire plan or anything, but at least it's a start. I'll continue to move forward by giving my roommates my notice, setting up appointments with professors and college advisers, and try to get myself grounded in a routine again. Moving around too much makes me dizzy, and I lose focus. I will get another part-time job to pay for school as my scholarships are still screwed up from the drama that happened during study-abroad, and I will graduate. <br />
<br />
Time to keep doing my best, move forward, and get this shit done. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-75395734634503955532012-12-20T01:09:00.002-06:002014-03-18T16:55:01.967-05:00Sweet DreamsAgain, it's been a long time since I've written anything, and it's been an even longer time since I've been this open. <br />
<br />
A little over a two months ago, my boyfriend and I decided to split. I'll spare the mushy gushy, sob-story details; the important thing to know is that the relationship has ended.<br />
<br />
I guess this is a test of faith for me. It gives me time to prioritize my life goals, emotions, and personal values. <br />
<br />
It just hurts that I have some gut feeling that I'll never see him again. I don't say this out of pessimism; I just feel that something is wrong. <br />
<br />
<br />
I'm unsure of whether or not my feelings will change as time goes on--a lot of people reading this will probably say, "Yeah, they do."--but the fact of the matter is that I don't want them to change now. At this point in time, and for the past two and half years, I have loved this person unlike I have loved any other human being. I want my heart to stay here where it is. <br />
<br />
Wherever you are, my thoughts, prayers, and heart are with you. <br />
Please stay safe. <br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-66710831596222448352012-09-30T17:53:00.003-05:002012-09-30T17:53:47.552-05:00Like a Goldfishどうして、こんな想いが<br />
急に出てしまった?<br />
溢れ出して、<br />
涙で溢れ出して、<br />
止まれば良いかな?<br />
<br />
夢は遠いものだけど、<br />
それでも良いかな?<br />
それだけ、良いんじゃない?<br />
<br />
これまで、そうだった。<br />
でも、今どうすれば良い?<br />
<br />
心が痛くて、<br />
興味がないようだ。<br />
大変だけど、<br />
またあきらめない。<br />
<br />
<br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-70106312637509160882012-09-26T01:19:00.001-05:002012-09-26T01:19:01.070-05:00Demons WithinIt's been a month since I left Japan, today, which means that I've been home for a month. I can't necessarily say that anything important has happened since my return to the States, other than returning to school, starting back at my part time job, and reuniting with my friends and family. However, I think it's important that I acknowledge myself, as well as the thoughts running through my head, and right now, I can't help but wonder: What are these demons in my mind? <br /><br />As many of you know, and probably don't want to admit, returning home to the US was a rather painful experience for me. I can't lie and say that it wasn't, but I understand I should be a bit sensitive when stating how painful it was as well. I am still a fish out of water, despite being on home soil, and it's impossibly difficult to find my rhythm. I am still sleeping at weird hours, trying to figure out how to eat, and fighting whatever is left in my lungs from a year of back-to-back colds. The Japanese class at my University, while more challenging than those at Ritsumeikan in some regards, is not nearly as challenging, and I find myself struggling with my other class, one taught in English regarding the politics, philosophy, and ethics behind many current issues today, despite it being held in my native language. So why am I struggling? <br /><br />I wonder if this is some sort of automatic defense mechanism to protect me from my own thought process. Naturally, I'm a pessimist, and at times like these, I would be weighing myself down with how absolutely horrible it is to be home. (Perhaps I'm starting to do that . . . ) But this feels different. It's as though I left part of me in Kyoto, and my chest aches. If that's the case, then I can't assume, logically, that I would be functioning correctly with a part of me missing. One of my professors would define this as part of the re-entry process, with or without the reverse culture shock. <br />
<br /><br />Whatever the reason may be, I've found myself sitting up at night thinking about Mibu Dera, a local ramen shop, the heavy dialect of my next door neighbors, and a tranquil breeze while riding a bike downhill. I miss the old ladies who crowd the shopping street near my apartment, and wonder if my older neighbors will still be around by the time I return. The delicious contrast of red-bean paste with bland rice flour, my eccentric culture teachers, and beautiful people. The light seems to filter, as if everything is in the past, despite being in the present. Living through tradition while striving for the future, Japan is a beautiful country. <br /><br />I'm American, but something strikes me about Japanese culture. When asked, I can't put my finger on it. Perhaps my vocabulary isn't sufficient for the emotion that emerges when imagining the serenity of something so foreign to what I was exposed to as a child, but a part of me needs Japanese culture. I crave the lifestyle not as an addiction, but as a need. I don't think I can reach my full potential here. <br /><br />Until I can meet with my friends and sit in a dimly lit Izakaya, I will do my best. Because they're waiting for me, I will succeed.<br />
<br />
大切な日本人の友達のおかげで、私の夢を見つかりました。<br />
心の奥から、本当にありがとうございました。 Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-78637565379158390472012-09-10T22:48:00.001-05:002012-09-10T22:48:13.902-05:00Musings and HopeAfter a year of being abroad, I realized some things about myself: <br /><br />I am not the weak, emotionally-overrun girl I knew in high school. I am moved by the world around me, inspired by the events that occur on a day to day basis. I cry when something makes me insanely happy, and I sob when my chest aches for seemingly no reason whatsoever. Rather than see these as signs of emotional instability, I see them as a cause for joy. I have an innate ability to express myself emotionally. It's painfully easy for me to express how I feel, even if I don't know a concrete adjective to do so.<br />
<br />
With that said, I am a body full of opinions. I don't want to break the peace, and would rather keep my nasty thoughts to myself than disrupt the harmony of a group. However, I will not let someone tell me what I think is stupid, irrelevant, or wrong. I have a mind of my own, and I will not let you tell me what to do. Not anymore. <br />
<br />Living in Japan had made me independent. I went to Japan running away from a series of events, many deep, bitter contemplations about myself and others, and I hoped to some superior being that I would be able to land in my dream. Thankfully, someone heard me struggling. I had so much help along the way, so much encouragement, that it makes me cry with joy. I have a feeling some of my friends would tell me that I did all of these things on my own, or that my determination is what got me where I am today, but I'm only human, and I feel that I would not have been able to have such a great experience without my support group, American, Japanese, Italian, German, Norwegian, Filipino, Malaysian, French, Chinese, Singaporean, Thai, Sri Lankan, and Korean. I've had so much encouragement from the world, and met so many wonderful people. I'm so grateful for all of you.<br />
<br />
The purpose of this blog entry is simply to analyze the thoughts running through my mind. Today was not a bad day. On the contrary, it was quite a good day considering I drove my car for the first time by myself since my return to the states nearly two weeks ago. However, it is one of the days where I've found my emotions a bit too much to handle. My future academic career, human relationships, financial status, and impending entrance into the job market weigh heavily on my mind today. <br /><br />I feel as though lately, my voice has grown stronger, but I am unable to reach the person I so desperately want to speak with. I don't think that person reads this blog, and if they do, I'm a bit surprised. I won't say more than that this matter pains me.<br />
<br />
At times like this, I need to remember that I have friends and family who are around me. I have a family around the world. I can do anything I want to. <br /><br />In retrospect, this means my voice isn't loud enough. <br /><br />There's no use crying. It only stuffs-up my sinuses, flushes my cheeks, and I look pathetic. But this is the first time I cried since I left Japan.<br />
<br />Watching Narita airport fade in the distance made me choke up on the plane. My friends and I agreed not to cry, but I couldn't hold back one tear. the green grass eventually grew further and further out of reach, fading into checkered rice patties and farms. Blue turned into white, and from there, we sailed through the sky. I couldn't sleep, and I took a Dramamine in hopes of making myself drowsy. The Dramamine then combined with red wine during dinner, and I still fought my eyelids. Sleeping meant the trip would end soon, and I desperately didn't want to go home.<br />
<br />But being back in Texas is familiar, and the view of my backyard is comforting. It's nice to be around my family and animals. For now, I'll do my best until I can go back to the country I came to love. <br /><br />Mascara tears don't make this blog entry any better. It's time for me to crawl into a bed, motivate myself to study at least a little for my classes tomorrow, and realize that I can't do more than my best. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-23316701601384964842012-08-27T22:37:00.001-05:002013-09-29T22:19:27.674-05:00Mixed Emotions and ReturningThis is the first blog I'm writing from the United States. <br />
<br />
To sum it up, being back in Texas is strange. I feel numb and as out of place as ever. I can't really fathom the idea that I am back at the place I grew up. Everything looks the same, and the people are how I remember, but I feel like a part of my mind is missing. <br />
<br />
As it were when I left Japan, I feel as though a large chunk of my life has been a dream, a nd I'm starting again. <br />
<br />
My time in Japan was perfect, despite all the difficulties and challenges. However, I feel as though it were longer than one year, but distant in a moment, as if I had woken from a great dream. <br />
<br />
I think my heart is aching, but the emotions won't come to my eyes. <br />
<br />
In any case, I am in Texas. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-43782569428429857372012-08-25T18:40:00.002-05:002012-08-25T18:40:45.557-05:00Sai-Sai Sayonara, Bye bye, Wait...See you laterToday is the last time that I will write from Japan. Well, the last time that I will write from my stay in Japan this time. I told myself, "This isn't goodbye, but see you later." Yet, it still feels heavy and surreal. <br /><br />I am getting excited messages about my going home, but it feels as if I'm waking up from a dream. I remember landing in Japan nearly a year ago, but that memory in itself is hazy. It feels as though I've lived in this country for a majority of my life, and I feel essentially more at place here than I do in the States. I could talk about this in more detail, but while it might be cathartic, it's not the time nor the place. <br /><br />In a few hours, I will be boarding a plane from Narita, and bound for the States. It feels like I'm going to sleep. My body is light, but my mind and heart are heavy. I'm going from life to a dream, and I'm uncertain of what will happen when I go home.<br />
<br />
I want to preserve the memory of the Rurouni Kenshin Move, The L'Arc~en~Ciel concert, nights of karaoke, late-night drinking with friends, and everything I've learned. <br /><br />From this point forward, I'll do my best. <br /><br />I'm not going to give up until I make it back to this country. <br /><br />Until I land in the states, See you later. Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-19357022593472887382012-08-07T06:24:00.002-05:002012-08-07T06:24:31.497-05:00Rainbows, Kids, and English ImmersionI'm writing while sitting onthe floor of a hotel somewhere in Japan, listening to "Niji" by L'Arc~en~Ciel, and preparing myself mentally for another set of long days, happy faces, and tears. <br /><br />English Immersion Camp is a great experience for those involved. I've been volunteering with the Kumon Company for a little while now, and my skills were finally put to the test a little over a week ago. The 6 Day camp began, and I have had the pleasure of working with many people from all over the world. Our journey together is far from over, as we have another four days to go starting tomorrow. Now, we all enjoy some down time, take some time to get back to our healthy selves, and enjoy our time together as human beings. <br /><br />Working with Kumon on the journey for world peace through children has taught me a lot of things. I need to open my mind to more people, try new things, and listen. <br /><br />The world is a big place, but we're all linked together as human kind. This means we must learn to love one another, respect one anothers culture, and ultimately, laugh together as we share in each others warmth. <br /><br />I love the people I have met here with all of my heart. <br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-49977533348632821142012-07-25T19:37:00.004-05:002012-07-25T19:37:54.697-05:00Gazette and the "Emo"During my time in Japan, I've realized different aspects of my personality. Other people may call it finding self-identity, or figuring out who you really are, and while this may be true, I think that understanding my personality is different than identifying myself as a person in this world. <br /><br />In high school, although I never knew the real reason behind any of it, I often felt down, depressed, or anxious. It was as if something bad would happen if I turned the wrong corner, or out of nowhere, this empty void would fill my chest. People often described me as the nice kid, and I was well-liked by my classmates. However, when I began opening up to those around me about the pain I was feeling, everyone, even my own family was surprised. There was no "logical" reason as to why I was depressed. I had a great family, kept myself busy with hobbies and school activities, and was making great grades. But this pain came from somewhere, whether or not my family or friends believed it or not. <br /><br />Like many other kids who are thrown into the emo, goth, or scene category, I was labeled by my school as emo. I found myself dressing in black clothes, listening to heavy music, and on really bad days, I even wrote poetry. My parents grew more frustrated as I became more withdrawn, more interested in the J-Rock and visual-kei scene in Japan, and it became evident that many people humored my interests rather than try to understand what was going on in my head.<br />
<br />After I entered college, I wondered if I really had gone through a faze. My taste in music, while perhaps not completely changing, altered itself seemingly day-by-day.I found myself listening to happier rhythms, melodies, and lots of Korean pop music. In the back of my head, something told me what I was doing was only making things worse, and that the pain as still there, growing, and waiting. I ignored it and almost stopped listening to both completely during the time I started dating my boyfriend. <br /><br />At that time, I had no idea who I was, and was trying to find myself through loving another person. This eventually led to arguments, lack of communication, and neither of us succeeding in the relationship, or even getting to know ourselves. A year into this relationship, we were determined to make it work out of our love for one another. We re-evaluated ourselves, our actions, and told each other that we would both work on ourselves and treat each other fairly. <br /><br />Then I came to Japan. <br /><br />As soon as I set foot in this country, I felt at home. There was no adjustment period. At least, it didn't feel as though I was going through culture shock. The biggest adjustment was learning how to handle myself and living alone for the first time. <br />
<br />
This is when I realized that I should have listened to myself.<br /><br />I realized that there is this pain inside of me, although I don't know where it comes from. It's not something that I can locate exactly. I can't go to the doctor to have them fix it with drugs I don't need. It's something in my blood, and it numbs my body. <br /><br />And I realize this through music. <br /><br />I looked up at the stage as Ruki reached out to the crowd. He talked a bout a flower blooming, and while the tears didn't make their way down my face, I found my eyes watering. I had dreamed of seeing Gazette in concert since I was fourteen. I had heard his voice in my dreams, telling me to keep going rather than stopping where I am in times when I needed support, but got it from few around me. <br /><br />I've never been so relaxed at a concert, and I never thought I'd find peace through the Gazette. <br /><br />Part of me is relieved as I tell myself once again that I will never stop listening to this music.Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-64591311675915088132012-07-23T07:54:00.001-05:002012-07-23T07:54:02.782-05:00Three, FourToday was the reception for students who have completed Ritsumeikan University's SKP Program. I still don't feel as though it actually happened. <br /><br />Rather than be sad during the activities, I felt a weird indifference. I was neither happy nor sad, but numb. The faces I saw in class everyday smiled at me, and I felt my heart sink, but I couldn't feel the emotion. It's as though I were standing in a room and the volume had been set to mute. Floating figures, faces, laughter, warm hugs. Yet I can't believe I was there. <br /><br />I received my certificate of completion and made my way back to my friends. I won't get to see them as much as I'd like before I leave, and this is what makes the numb turn to ice. <br /><br />A few days from now, I will have limited access to the internet, mobile devices, and contact with friends. Until then, I will have many things to do, and no time in which to do them. Pack? Eat? Sleep? <br /><br />My appetite has faded as I start imaging the garbage bags I will carry down the stairs, the money I'll spend on post, and the agony of feeling alone in my apartment.<br />
<br />
I don't want pity. I'm not sad. I'm not "lonely", but alone. I'm stuck in my head, figuring out who I am, where I want to go with my life, and what will happen when I return to American soil. <br />
<br />It's almost a month away, and while I'll be greeted by smiling faces, I have a feeling the sense of a mute dream will continue. I want warm embraces, laughter, and relaxation in the company of good friends. I want to drink with some sassy Germans, go shopping with my favorite Norwegian, and laugh with my Japanese best friends. <br /><br />Where did time go? <br />
<br />"Here," it answers. "I've been here." <br /><br />It's like high school all over again. Only this time, without the drama of teenage self-discovery. It's pain, and I feel cold . I can't find the source. <br /><br />I can always come back to this beautiful country. I will keep practicing this beautiful language, I will contact my professors.<br />
<br />So why so numb and heavy?<br />
<br />
It's as if Kyoto stopped moving. The street lights glitter in the darkness, and I relish the warm breeze lifting me from my bike. The world is silent, but welcoming. <br /><br />Maybe I've lost myself, as well as my senses.Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-67152443149583205332012-07-15T04:46:00.001-05:002012-07-15T04:46:26.825-05:00Doubt and the Other WorldIt's getting closer and closer to the time I have to leave this marvelous country, and with that said, I'm still not sure how to react. I do not say this out of sadness, bitterness, or resentment, but with honesty. <br /><br />I was thinking about life back home, and realized that my trip in Japan has been hard, but enjoyable all the way through. When I think of back home, I see a lot of sticky situations, with my family's finances, school, relationships, etc. This can bring about good or bad, but I guess that's why they call it "home" for a reason. <br /><br />After a Bati-Holic concert last night, my friend asked me why I didn't want to return home. She thought it was a bit strange that I wasn't excited. I told her that for some reason, I feel more at place in Japan. It's as if the world is still and things happen in the moment they're supposed to. Even when I'm rushed, it feels as though time goes by at exactly the speed it needs to. At home it feels like I'm always running straight ahead, jumping over the hurdles, and dodging the things thrown in from the present. <br /><br />Here, I'm living in one moment. Difficulties, triumphs, everything is happening now.Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-64721593212992627832012-07-02T12:07:00.002-05:002012-07-02T12:07:27.842-05:00Counting CrowsToday was a rather ordinary day for me. Well, it was up until I parked my bike to go to Wagashi (Japanese confectionery) class. <br /><br />The story I'm about to write is rather emotional, and I've felt restless ever since this happened. I'm not sure how well I can write, as it's close to two in the morning, I'm very tired, and the thoughts are jumbled like wadded tissues between my ears.<br />
<br />
It was a little after 4 p.m., and I walked my bike up to a local shrine gate. On the ground before me, I saw a crow, spread out on the ground as if someone had smashed it with a bat, and I inhaled sharply. It looked like a fluff of feathers, and the bugs were already taking over the poor, lifeless body.<br />
<br />An old woman sat in the shade, and watched my reaction to this bird. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her grin as I jumped when the bird moved. My stomach churned and I remember, for the first time in my life, wanting a gun.<br />
<br />
The woman hobbled to me and started speaking in a dialect too heavy for me to understand. I told her that I felt so bad for the bird, and that it was in pain. The bird kept flapping its wings, unable to gain flight due to the broken lower half of its body. In the near distance, its friends cawed for their lost comrade.<br />
<br />
To ensure that I understood her, or perhaps to make me feel better (although, if that's the case, I don't understand her methods), the woman poked her cane into the ground in front of the bird. It opened its beak, and instead of a caw, I could hear the screaming of its broken body as it tried to fly away from the woman.<br />
<br />
Suddenly I heard the voice of my dad and boyfriend simultaneously. Then my mother. All of them telling me something along the lines of: Sometimes you have to hurt something to save it.<br />
<br />
The image of that bird struggling to breathe still makes me shake. I felt so helpless. I wanted so badly the knowledge of how to kill a creature in one blow. I thought, "How can I use my bike, that rock, anything, to get this bird to stop suffering?" The old woman, on the other hand, was perhaps amused that a foreigner was getting so emotional over a common crow.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, as if to protect their dying friend, two large crows began to swoop towards the old woman. I told her that I would run to the police station, and ask if there was anything they could do to help the bird.<br />
<br />
I arrived at the station a few moments later and struggled to remember my Japanese. I kept saying things that translate roughly int, "I want it to be killed," and "It looks so pathetic, painful," and what hurt me the worst, "bird friends are telling us it is bad to be near the broken bird." Still feeling helpless, and feeling like minutes are hours as the woman finally understands how important this is to me.<br />
<br />
Within a few minutes, the woman's apathetic stare turned into one of pity as I began to cry. In the beginning, I was told that there was nothing they could do. It wasn't a pet. It was a common crow. She told me to go to a different department, her words, I didn't understand. Suddenly, a male policeman came over and told me that the zoo had informed them they would see what they could do to help the bird. <br /><br />After this came another eternity of waiting, my broken conversations with random police officers, and finally, the journey over to the shrine. While the old woman had told me she would wait, she and the crow's friends, had disappeared. The crow was lifeless on the ground. <br /><br />I could hear the policeman mutter under their breath, questioning whether the bird was alive when I saw the flies on its back jump.<br />
<br />
The bird was breathing.<br />
<br />
They told me that from there, they would transport the bird to the zoo, although they said, unfortunately, the bird would probably die before getting there. I was crying. I was so glad they listened to me even though it felt like such a small thing. Whether the bird lived or died, I felt as though it were being relieved of torture. <br /><br />After the police left, I stared at the shrine gate. I began to wonder if that old woman were ever there at all. What if she were some form of a god?<br />
<br />
The whole scene felt very spiritual to me. I don't know much about the Christian religion, much less the different sects of Buddhism or Shinto-Buddhism. However, I thought I had heard of a similar situation in some story from long ago. <br /><br />I wondered if I had been tested. had the woman been waiting all day, like the crow, for some person to take the time to help them, despite the inevitable death? Did the crows leave because they were chased away, or was it some sort of sign that time was running out? <br /><br />I walked through the shrine gate and continued to cry. Pigeons cooed for mates at my feet and I remembered screaming with my boyfriend over our baby bird, the formula getting cold, and him ultimately saying, "If you don't feed it, it'll die!"<br />
<br />
I suddenly understood his way of thinking, and dragged my feet to class. <br /><br />I don't know what happened to the bird, and I have a feeling the police would tell me not to worry if I went back. In any case, wherever the bird is now, I hope that he is out of the tremendous pain he must have felt earlier. <br /><br />I hope that no one goes without a friend in their last moment.Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-61667314620105405992012-06-30T06:52:00.003-05:002012-06-30T06:52:29.218-05:00Time is Running OutToday is the day one of my best friends from my home university, Mary, returns home to the states. I am so glad that both of us were able to be in Japan at the same time, even though she studied in Tokyo, and I came to call Kyoto "home." We didn't get to see each other very often due to the distance, but it was very refreshing to have a friend go through the same experience, in completely different ways, through different people, at the same time. I hope Mary makes it home safely, without any glitches through the airport and airwaves, and it's weird thinking that one of our journeys has come to an end, and a new chapter of life will begin upon landing on US soil. <br /><br />Mary's departure has made me realize that my own journey in Japan will be ending in less than two months, and as much as I dislike the thought, I have to remind myself to be positive in my remaining time abroad. <br /><br />Speaking of staying positive, I received a package from Captain Cornelius, one of my friends in Germany. I had no idea that he would be sending me something, and when I received a notice from the post about a missed package, I was more than surprised. However, it came at a time when everyone I knew was telling me that they were happy to be returning home, or my friends and family from the states were telling me they couldn't wait to get home. I felt as though I were the only person dreading the return, and tried to make myself think more optimistically. <br /><br />Cornelius sent me a box full of chocolates and gummies from the Deutschland, but it was his letter that brought tears to my eyes. I feel like a drama queen when I type this, but I was really comforted by his letter. He told me to make the most of my time there and that I shouldn't worry about leaving even though he knows I'm upset about it. He's one of my loyal readers, I should say. (Although, that sounds weird since I don't update this blog on a normal basis, and I feel as though I have let the readers I have had down in the process of laziness.)<br />
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This letter resonated with me because I remembered how upset Cornelius was before his departure to Germany. Although he was, like many people I know, a bit happy to return home, and he felt that his trip to Japan had been satisfactory. But I felt that what I was feeling was the closest to what he was feeling months ago, even though it isn't striking the nail on the head exactly. In any case, because of this, I took his letter to heart. Yeah, it really sucks that I'll be returning home, but on the bright side, I'll be able to see people I haven't seen in almost a year, eat food that I love (Hello, burritos and salsa!), and more importantly, I'll have a better understanding of myself when I return.<br />
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Before I left for Japan, I had a general idea of what I wanted to do, where I wanted to end up in the future, and who I wanted to be around for the rest of my life. Now that I've been abroad, I understand that I want, more than anything, to end up in Japan in my future. I want to teach English, not because it is the "Global Language" or anything like that. I want to give those learning English a positive experience. I want to talk about the things they enjoy, or help them learn English regarding the field of their career. While I love my friends and family, I don't feel as though I belong in the states, at least, not for all of my life. I want to travel, live in different places, and get a job in which I don't have to worry about myself financially.<br />
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<br />As of now, I guess I can feel a bit relieved. The situation is a bit troubling, but despite working out things with my home university through contract, it seems as though they have dropped me as a student because I "haven't been in school for a year". It's annoying, and I feel betrayed by my school, which adds to the resentment and unhappy feelings I have held toward my university for the majority of my time there. Although I am very happy and grateful for their approval for me to study abroad, as well as the partnership, I must say I think some things about university policy should be changed, especially when the school knows the student is studying abroad. <br /><br />In any case, because of my "lack of attendance", so to speak, I will not be given financial aid for my Fall 2012 school term in the states. This means that I will not be able to go to school, as like many families in the US, my parents cannot afford for me to continue my education in this economy. I have a year left of school, but my parents lack of savings, my lack of job when I return home and drained bank account won't permit me to go back to school. I am communicating with my parents, my home university, and academic advisers about this problem, but depending on the result of our conversation, I may or may not be going to school in the Fall. <br /><br />A plus of this is, if I cannot return to school immediately in the fall, I will be able to stay for another week or two in the country that I love. <br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-11626661159197075022012-06-19T07:39:00.001-05:002012-06-19T07:39:01.814-05:00Typhoons and Playing Catch-UpI've had a heavy feeling in my stomach for awhile now. I feel as though I'm guilty of something even though I know there's not a real reason to feel that way. The more I think about it, the more I come to realize it's because I don't want to go home. <br /><br />This is going to make me sound like a horrible person, and perhaps I am for even thinking this, but I don't really have a desire to return to the United States. I love my family, friends, boyfriend, coworkers, but I don't want to go back. I feel more at home in a place where I stand out easily in a crowd than I did in a place where I spoke the same accent, dialect, and played my part in the majority quite well. I'm sorry to those of you who are reading this. I'm hurting a lot of feelings and a lot of mixed emotions will probably come from this, but please understand I'm writing this as a way to come to terms with my own thoughts on two countries I love: the United States and Japan.<br />
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I know there are things that I can do in the United States that I will never be able to do in Japan. No matter how hard I try, no matter the visa or legal status I obtain, I will <i>never</i> be Japanese. I was not born in this country, and while this may sound quite racist or close-minded, I think that to some extent, I would have to look the part to be Japanese in this society even if I were a white woman born in this country. Even if I speak the language fluently, I will never truly "fit in" in Japanese society. I will never be able to erase the more American aspects of my personality. I will never truly understand what it's like to refrain from saying my opinion, I will never be able to completely work towards the group rather than an individual, and I will never fully be able to submit myself to a lower status than my male counterparts. <br /><br />With all of these things said, I do not feel any differently about my desire to live in this country. Perhaps I'm one of the lucky exchange students, but Japan is home to me in a way that my hometown in Texas will never be. I know many of my friends cannot wait to return home to lands of cheese, cheap food, driving one's own car, and Mexican food. (I have to admit, the unavailability of Mexican food really takes it out of you sometimes.)<br /><br />I do not regret living in my hometown or growing up in Texas. I think that it is a great place to raise children, especially if you live in a town in which the balance between open-minded and close-minded people are present. I'm glad that my town was relatively rural, but that I have had experiences (good and bad) with people who are stubborn and those who are willing to try new things. And I'm very thankful that my family, while stuck in their ways on some matters, encouraged me to try something different before making a judgement. Without their support, I don't think I could have ever experienced something so exciting, terrifying, and something utterly enchanting as my life in Japan. <br /><br />Maybe I'm still young, and I'm not necessarily in love with the place where I grew up. I love the memories of my house in Texas, the moments playing with my cats and dogs outside, swimming in my pool in the summer, and enjoying the times, happy or sad, with my parents and relatives. These are things that I will treasure always. <br /><br />I know I'm stepping on some feelings and I feel guilty for saying it, even though it's my own opinion, but I am in love with the country, culture, and people of Japan. i feel as though I should be crying over my family and hometown in Texas, but I feel like the land of the rising sun is calling my name. <br /><br />Maybe my mind will change when the rainy weather clears up, the cockroaches invade my apartment, and I've had my fair share of final exams, but as for now, I am truly dreading the moment when I pull out my dusty suitcase from under my bed. <br /><br />I can feel the tears well up in my eyes as I think of saying goodbyes, even though I know I will really be saying, "See you later!" and "We'll meet again sometime soon." I have made a great bunch of friends here, from all over the world, and it's really hard to imagine life without them. My departure from this country will be sometime in the near future. <br /><br />I don't like it.Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-75124634328948104262012-06-08T05:47:00.001-05:002012-06-08T05:47:09.350-05:00Dread and Flower BlossomsI don't even know where to begin with this entry. <br /><br />I feel like time is going by too quickly, and I'm dreading the last two months of my stay here. I will be leaving sometime around the end of August, and I'm horrified that it's already June. <br /><br />While it will hurt many of those who are home, I don't want to go back to the States. More than almost anything, I want to stay here. I want to live here and flourish. I know that I can come back in the future, and if things go the way I plan, I can work in a middle school teaching English. My dreams are right under my fingertips. I'm teaching English at an English Conversation group, working at an English camp this summer, and even working with middle school students sometime soon. I've never been so proud of myself, and I don't remember ever being this happy to wake up and go to class. <br />
<br />I really don't want to leave this feeling behind. While I know people believe that happiness is something that is created by one's own will, I really think that happiness is easier for me to grasp outside of the states. I'm so much happier being myself here than I am in Texas. I think this is because I feel as though I found my place here. <br /><br />It's weird getting used to being the minority, but aside from that, my personality seems very Japanese. My Japanese friends tease me about my eating habits, politeness, and often say something that roughly translates into, "Wow, you're so Japanese!"<br /><br />I feel as though I'm searching for my identity all over again. <br /><br />I've found myself staring outside more often than before. I enjoy the gentle breeze, walk without an umbrella in the soft, steady rain, and listen to the sound of buses passing by. I feel like this is the last time I'll get to hear these noises. An onigiri that I've eaten every day never tasted so delicious, and my house never seemed further from the school. <br /><br />I feel like I belong here. <br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-7346101053622576152012-05-03T10:09:00.000-05:002012-05-03T10:09:51.732-05:00It's hard to believe that it's already May. The cherry blossoms have bloomed and fallen. My second semester at Ritsumeikan University has begun, and it's weird to think that I'm only in Japan for another three months. <br /><br />There's so much left to do. I feel like I've wasted a lot of time. <br /><br />This semester, I'm putting my studies first. I'm extending my Japanese practice outside of the classroom. I try to watch an episode of a Japanese drama every day, write a journal in Japanese, and use Japanese only when speaking to my Japanese friends. I'm taking three culture classes, all of which are in Japanese, and am limiting time I spend with my friends who speak English. (If you're reading this, and you're one of my English speaking friends: This does not mean you're not as important as my studies, but I feel it's a priority to use Japanese while in Japan.)<br /><br />Similar to my first few months of school, this semester began with me being sick. I've been fighting a stomach bug of some sort for the past two weeks. I'm not sure how I got it, as I haven't eaten anything strange lately, and I am usually pretty cautious around people who are sick. I missed two days of class within the first month of school, and I feel terrible about it. Anyway, I am fighting this illness in the best way that I can: Relaxing and taking it easy when and where possible, and fighting the rest of the way. <br /><br />My patience has been wearing thin with a lot of people lately. I'm not sure exactly where it comes from, but I am learning to do things my way. I think somewhere inside me, I finally understand that I do not have to be friends with everyone, I do not have to talk to everyone who rubs me the wrong way, and most of all, that it's alright to stand up for myself. <br /><br />I will say this again: I will not answer questions that can be answered by modern-day internet search engines. In a past entry, I listed tools that can be helpful when reading my statuses on facebook (if you are a friend) or reader. I will use Japanese terms when I feel the English doesn't work correctly, and I will not be explaining them. I don't mind answering questions about culture when I feel that I have enough knowledge, or experience, to answer. I understand it is a pet peeve I will have to deal with, but things like Japanese holidays, sweet names, etc. can all be looked up on google relatively quickly. However, in this day and age, I feel that it is so easy to find information that it's necessary to try finding it yourself before asking someone for direct answers. Everyone may not see it this way, and I understand. <br /><br />BUT if you post a question that can be answered by a simple google search, I will not respond. (This is mainly to my friends on facebook, and yes, it is a bit passive-aggressive.)<br /><br />Had to get that out of my system. <br /><br />Anyway, back to normal journal writing. (These things are so unorganized.)<br /><br />It's hard to believe that I will be back in Texas sometime in the next few months. I get weird feelings of deja-vu, more like a reverse deja-vu, lately. It's as though I realize that I'm really in Japan. It's strange to me because I've gotten so used to life here. I've gotten used to being a foreigner in a world of people who aren't like me. I've become accustomed to the rules of everyday life, and I feel quite welcome and at home here. It's going to be a huge shock when I get back. I feel like I'll be annoyed with everyone and disappointed with everything. I wish I could stay here until mid September, but there's absolutely no way to do that with my school. <br /><br />Ideally, I could miss the Fall 2012 semester at my home university, work part-time for a semester before returning to school, and then work from the spring to the fall. However, this is something I will have to figure out soon, so I can prepare myself for either decision.<br /><br /><br />Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573012636781095565.post-399838646089637702012-03-25T12:16:00.000-05:002012-03-25T12:16:13.434-05:00Back-and-Forths and Fleeting TimeIt's official, I guess: I really can't keep up with a blog, can I? My apologies to those at home. <br />
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The past month has been eventful in some ways, and less eventful in others. I went to Tokyo for the first time since September, traveled to Nagoya to run a marathon, and fought a nasty bought of depression. Now it's exactly a week before I go back to school for orientation, which includes a placement exam, and then it's on to the last semester of school in Japan.<br />
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I'm sorry I don't write about all of the details about each excursion, but to me, my trip here is more than that. I feel if I tell all of the details about what I see on a day-to-day basis, the magic of the country is lost. Perhaps this just means my writing can't do it justice, and it also is a nicely put way of saying that I'm lazy. In any case, let me get back to writing while I still feel self-motivated. <br />
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Spring break wasn't very eventful for me. Looking back at it, I think I wasted a lot of time by not doing anything. I didn't want to do anything, really. Unlike most of the people I know, I don't have any desire to sight-see. Traveling is fun, but hard to do without a plan, and friends who share the same interest. Most of my Japanese friends were traveling, working, or job-searching, so it was more convenient to sit at home and do nothing. Thinking back, I should have put this effort into studying, watching Japanese television dramas, anime, or whatnot. Honestly, I've just been blah for the past while. <br />
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I wanted to go back home for a bit during Spring Break to see my boyfriend's art show, visit my family, and just figure out exactly why I'm in Japan all over again. I guess I'm just not strong mentally; the last month has been full of bitter, lonely feelings. And I'm disappointed in myself for wasting so much time, angry that I wasn't physically strong enough to finish a full marathon, and a bit jealous of those around me. Every day I realize that my kanji writing skills aren't where I want them to be, my vocabulary is lacking, and I'm still struggling over things on a day to day basis. <br />
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I guess it's just one of the downs of being in a country that you love. <br />
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One of my friends told me recently, "It's not always easy doing the things you love. There will be some hard times, some good times, and a lot of things in between." <br />
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Maybe I'm just too hard on myself. I have a feeling that some of my friends would be telling me, "You needed this break. You needed to sleep, eat, and just be lazy." or something like, "Macy, you push yourself ALL the time. Just relax." Even still, this inkling doesn't keep me from feeling so weak, or feeling that my pace isn't good enough for just a fast paced society.<br />
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I think school will be good for me. It'll put me on a regular schedule, and I'll have less time to wallow in my thoughts. I'm looking forward to using my Japanese on a regular basis, make new friends, and study. <br />
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I've always taken myself for granted, I think. In Texas, I came from a small-town school where most of the people I met told me I was smart and gifted. I was told that I learn quickly, adapt to new situations well, and that I'm a bright kid. Getting out in the big world has shown me something different though. I've never felt so stupid, unprepared, and out of place. Even still, I feel that I've become used to a land that is so foreign to the place I came from. This rift exists, but it's as if I'm on neither side. It's as if I am used to the environment without being fluent in the language. <br />
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Again, I can hear my boyfriend saying, "Just do it. Just be fluent." <br />
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Maybe I should just stop writing, and work hard from tomorrow. I have a week to learn right?Macy Parkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05968145935802662387noreply@blogger.com0