Literary Inspiration: Khalil Gibran on Joy

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

- Khalil Gibran, author of The Prophet.

As some of you will know already, our family received the best news possible yesterday. My mother had an appointment with her surgeon to receive the pathology results from the autopsy of her breast tissue removed in her mastectomy a week ago. We were all incredibly nervous. It's been a hard slog since she first got diagnosed with her rare and agressive form of cancer nine months ago - chemo, radiation and infections all documented in this blog and in her own. The survival rate on this type of cancer has been improving but it's still one of the crappier cancers to get. 3pm saw me and my sister at home waiting impatiently for a phonecall.

Ring, ring...

The phonecall came, we held our breath... the cancer was gone. As in not a trace. The pathologist had actually rung the surgeon to confirm that it was actually cancer they were meant to be looking for. They will be performing what they call a resection - where they cut the little pieces into smaller pieces but it doesn't change the result. It's gone, that part of our life that's in statis can now move forward and flourish. We live life newly grateful for what we have... the trial has made us stronger.

Being in "luff"...

PianoMan and I were chatting, as we usually do, about life, the universe and everything. The subject of love came up and how neither of us believe in love at first sight. We both believe in true and lasting love and think that that isnt something that can just come out of nothing - that it grows and builds as your relationship strengthens.

We also know that we liked each other right off the bat - from the emails we first exchanged on Facebook and the night that I watched DVDs, I knew this guy was special. From my sexy top on our first date and the wine I chose on our second, he had an inkling I was wonderful too. Our feelings are growing for each other all the time and I can definitely see myself falling deeply in love with him... but it's only been one and a half months. I feel more for him than just like but I don't want to rush into saying "love" until I'm sure - so what does that leave?

Luff! It's what we came up with :D Luff is pretty close to love but ... not quite. Luff is that yummy in-between stage where you are still getting to know each other and their quirks. Luff is when you are still starry-eyed - Love is when you see the person for who they truly are and love them anyway. Some relationships never make it past the Luff, others have only a short Luff time before that melds into love. For me, I wouldn't be in a relationship with someone that I didn't Luff; with PianoMan I hope that Love is the next step.

Are you in Luff? In Love? Do you think that the Luff stage exists or that me and PM are just crazy philosophers (that's a totally valid comment too!). Let me know in the comments!

Sunday Afternoon Reads: Not Quite A Bride by Kirsten Sawyer

I've been on holidays for the last two weeks and as well as reading books that I will be able to use for my Year 13 literature circles, I've also been doing some light and fluffy reading. As those of you whom have read this series from the beginning will know, I do like a little bit of chick lit. It's like chocolate pudding; delicious, indulgent but ultimately unlikely to improve your (mental) health. A visit to the local library post-lunch with one of my friends who is planning a marriage led to the selection of "Not Quite a Bride" by Kirsten Sawyer from the many books available.

It's no secret that I see myself living a quite traditional life. I see the progression of a serious relationship as getting married and starting a family and I hope to see that happen. I used to have this elusive idea that I'd be married by the time I turned 25 which is not going to happen (poor PianoMan if I was still holding on to that impossible milestone). Having seen several friends take that stroll down the aisle, I'm ready to do that with the right man at the right time... but what if the desire to have a wedding was so overwhelming that you felt like you couldn't wait?

This is the premise for Ms. Sawyer's novel. Molly wants to have a wedding so badly that she's willing to forgo the marriage side of things. Her younger sister is already married and the news that Molly will soon become an aunt sends her over the edge. She hires a struggling (and gay) actor, Justin, to play her boyfriend/fiancee for a year and sets about planning a whirlwind courtship and wedding. The plan is that Justin will leave her at the altar and she will set about enjoying her reception with her family and friends.

The problems start when her family and friends meet Justin and they all like him - they really like him. All bar Molly's closest friend from college, Brad. Brad is engaged to Claire who comes across in Molly's view as a spoilt ice princess. As Molly and Justin's "relationship" progresses, Molly and Brad's friendship falls apart. Molly's brother comes out to the family and becomes party to Molly and Justin's deception (it's the only way Justin can support him in his newly gay lifestyle) and mounting excitement and parental pressure begin to make the deception feel overwhelming.

There are some funny moments in the novel that play on Justin's effeminate side - the florist comments that she is lucky to have an involved fiancee with such good taste. The mother plays overbearing with that hint of "it's because I care" so well. The details of the wedding planning, while possibly being a little over-described, really appealed to a former event planner like myself. The ending is, perhaps, a little trite and Disney but there's nothing wrong with a happily ever after.

Read this curled up on the couch on a grey day - for me it was a library borrow, rather than a purchase, but I would read more from this author.

3 stars out of a possible 5.

Friday Round-Up

• As those of you who follow me on Twitter will know, I got a little spendy yesterday... to the tune of almost $200 NZ. Some of it was necessary (how I expected to get through winter with two pairs of pants is beyond me), some of it was for the endeavour of making other people smile (some leggings for an eighties party I'm going to, craft supplies for a surprise for PianoMan) and some of it was purely for my own selfish ends (those purple toenails you see in the base of the picture and the Bras and Things bag :D). It felt really good to do that as I've been keeping a tight rein on finances because I thought I was going to Sydney in July.
• Thought I was going to Sydney in July? Whatever do I mean? PianoMan's work has cracked down on annual leave, with the end result being that he won't be able to go on any extended annual leave until Feb 2010. I KNOW. I know that some of you have encouraged me to go to Sydney on my own but I feel like we've done so much of the detailed planning for this trip together that it would be weird to go on our holiday with just me. Instead, we're heading down to Christchurch for a romantic long weekend around the same time and postponing any long holiday plans until next year. Gives me a chance to upgrade my dinosaur... I mean, laptop... and cellphone, both which are pretty necessary.
• I'm finding this unit outline planning assignment a real challenge, plus the teacher seems to think we won't be spending any time on it in class before we hand it in. I think that the teacher is sorely mistaken about this... my classmates and I already have lists upon lists of questions. I'm starting to feel like I can't wait until this year is over and I can actually go teach instead of do these things in class. I learnt more in two weeks of actually being in a school than I did in the first month of training college.
• Mum's surgery went really well. She's in surprisingly little pain - more so when she gets up and moves around but that's also important for her to do and this is the reason that man invented serious pain-killers LOL. The hospital she is in is sooo plush and I think she's going to be a little devastated to come home to the non-gourmet meal provider, sky TV-less convalescent home that is the Scribbles abode. Fingers crossed for appointment next Tuesday when we get the results of the pathology report!
• I received an email yesterday from one of the authors I had reviewed! It made my day... just one of those moments that make you realise that you really aren't writing into a void.

Right, off to get this house in tip top shape and then go play dutiful daughter at the hospital and take Mama Scribbles for her amble around the gardens. Looking forward to a bliss night with PianoMan - we're making our own pizzas then relaxing with some glasses of wine and a spa. Perfect end to the week!

Literary Inspirations: Boris Posternack on Health

The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant, systematic duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune. Our nervous system isn't just a fiction, it's part of our physical body, and our soul exists in space and is inside us, like teeth in our mouth. It can't be forever violated with impunity.

-Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

Ironic, huh, that I find this quote almost immediately after writing that article on my own fears. In all that is going on with Mum, we have to remember that honesty in our feelings and bottling up really doesn't do OUR health any good. It's when my head is about to explode that I eat that whole packet of chips. I curl up in my room instead of going for walks. It's letting one form of duplicity (where I'm saying I'm fine and feeling the absolute opposite, pretending I'm okay with something when I'm really not) ruin all the good parts of my life.

Join with me in banning the twee "I'm fine, and you?" response to your friends - if you're upset, angry, bored, tired, etc, let me know in the comments. I'm a friend you can be honest with. Let out anything that is tying your nervous system up in knots.

Nerves...

I spent the majority of the last weekend at PianoMan's house - Thurs night, Friday, Sat, Sunday morning - in amongst all our other obligations. Things have been a little tense in Scribbles HQ and because I can get away, I have been. It's dreadfully nice to have a boy who doesn't have any stinky flatmates in his house, but I digress.

Everyone has been snappy and stressed in the Scribbles abode because tomorrow is the day that Mama Scribbles gets her mastectomy (of Gertrude) and reduction. One day and one week from now is when we get the results of the autopsy that they will do on her breast tissue that they removed and we'll find out how well all the treatment has worked. It's amazing to think that it's nine months since she got diagnosed and how quickly her cancer became a normal part of life. Words like metastases and neutrophils roll off the tongue like you're talking about characters of a prime-time show.

The results part is far more terrifying than the surgery. It's unlikely that mum will have any complications from the surgery and everything should go to plan. The results for autopsies of IBC tend to go one of two ways:

a) the cancer is all dead (or mostly dead) and she has an 80% chance of survival to five years

b) the cancer is not all dead and she has an 80% chance of not being around to see her grandchildren.

Even if it's not the result that we want, it doesn't mean the fight is over... it just means watching mum go through more chemo - no more radiation though, they blasted it with all they could this time. She's not old enough to give up and say enough is enough. She'll keep on fighting the hard fight. We're all hoping for the first though.

I admitted to PianoMan on Saturday while I was at work that I'm quite a lot more terrified than I even let on to myself. I don't talk much about it IRL because I don't want to be "that chick that has a Mum with cancer". I know that my friends don't handle me falling apart so well - my depression following the complete combustion that was Ex-S has shown that. It's like that episode of Friends where Chandler finds out that Monica has a secret cupboard full of junk and mess. Telling PianoMan about being afraid was like giving him the key to that cupboard for my feelings and it shows the measure of the man he is that he didn't run away.

Comment on this article if you wish, but what I really would appreciate is you taking the time to pop over to Mama Scribbles' blog and leave a message with your prayers, good wishes and sparkly vibes for her surgery tomorrow.

An extra-little tidbit...

... just so you think I don't fly through life as gently as a cloud.

I'm at work today on a Sunday (which I loathe). I woke up this morning and didn't get a chance to lie in (even though I finished work at quarter past midnight this morning). I left my purse at PianoMan's and had to look guiltily at the offerings basket as it went by. The couple whose little boy I had brought a birthday present for had to leave church early and I was racing round trying to find someone who was going to the party this afternoon (which I can't go to because I'm working...).I had to cross fingers toes and eyeballs that I would get back to PianoMan's to pick up my wallet without running out of petrol. I have about 40 minutes at home before having to leave for work in which I start feeling really tired. I get to work and the day is busy - phonecalls, people arriving in the office. One of the people is an old man that reeks of whisky and tries to cop a feel while telling me I must be lonely - cornering me on the opposite side of the room from the panic buttons. I manage to fob him off and then proceed to break up a party because their hire time is over. I get to break up another party in two and a half hours and in the intermediate time I have to lug out multiple items of heavy furniture to redecorate the foyer... alone. Home to do the assignment that is continually stuck in my craw and then sleep.

There may have to be a stop for flavoured soy milk and dark chocolate on the way home... that plus texts from the boy may keep this day a sparkly one.

Sunday Afternoon Reads: Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones

Spotlighting another kiwi author this week (although you can get this one through Amazon!), Lloyd Jones has created a sophisticated yet simple novel in Mister Pip. Set for the most part in the island nation of Papua New Guinea, this novel moved me by the author's use of language to create a first-person narrative that I could relate to yet feel vastly different from my own 21st century kiwi Anglo-Saxon perspective.

The story starts in a Papua New Guinea burdened by civil war - this immediately grabbed me as I can remember news items in my childhood highlighting the peace efforts in concluding this very same war. What gave this story flavour is the way the war is told from the view of a small girl, living on one of the outlying islands. Matilda is a girl who daily sees her world shrinking - her Dad is estranged, living in Australia and working in the mines to make a living. The people from her village are leaving to join the rebel army. Eventually the village is cut off from the rest of Papua New Guinea and it is then that the sole European citizen of the village decides that he will attempt to teach the children "school". It is at Mr. Watts' school that the children are introduced to Charles Dickens' Great Expectations from whom the titular character of Mister Pip extends. The children's devotion to the story leads to circumstances in this time of war that no one could forsee.

My favourite motif of this book has to be the key role that a book plays within a book. I'm not sure what fills me with so much joy but this clever technique of art within art never fails to please me. Northanger Abbey is one of my favourite Austen novels (featuring heavily The Mysteries of Udolpho), the way that Bob Dylan songs permeate the sound of Patrick Spillane's play Grace... and blasphemous as this may sound, I love the way that The Da Vinci Code used famous works of art to map out a blood line of the descendants of Jesus Christ, even though I doubt that particular tale is true. The importance that Great Expectations has in the book - and the completely foreign nature of the classic victorian novel to those who are learning it - make for an interesting cultural melting-pot of reading.

This book is a relatively short and uncomplicated read that deals with some rather complex themes. I'd recommend it for reading on a crisp autumn day, lying on a picnic rug in a park. Let the tropical location take you away and the beautiful setting you're lying in bring you slowly back to earth at the end of the story

4.5 stars out of 5

Happy Birthday! A tribute to a wonderwoman!

Some people make the world better just for being in it... and your big heart makes my world better, in the gray times, in the good times...

Some people aren't always appreciated for the unique and marvellous people that they have become but know that I appreciate you - though you are oceans away I know you care.

You bring joy and laughter to those around you - colour and sparkle, love and light. I smile at the Web 2.0 way that you have become such a close friend.

Though you may sometimes feel that you are behind a cloud, hopefully this tribute helps you realise what an absolute princess among women you are.

Happy Birthday my Em-tastic treasure!

Literary Inspirations: George Bernard Shaw on Growing Old

We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing"

- George Bernard Shaw

It's so easy as we enter our adult lives to lose the joy of play. Adult responsibilities take our focus. We have jobs, we pay the bills, we concentrate on the big picture, the future, making sacrifices for the now because we want the fun times later.

Ms.B brought my lovely little nieces down this weekend for an Easter Egg hunt - I had baby-sat them over Easter last year and they had loved joining in with little sis on a treasure hunt for Easter eggs. Sitting at the table, decorating our Easter baskets while the *ahem* Easter Bunny hid the eggs, the excitement that the girls had about what lay ahead was palpable.

Chasing C down the side of the house as she went to the letterbox for the next clue, I got caught up in the excitement, the energy of the adventure. It's the same feeling that I had on Friday when PianoMan and I followed a beach path and ended up with no idea where we were. It's the same feeling I get when swinging on monkey bars, when rollerskating up and down a smooth patch of pavement, when yelling "in your face!" to someone that I've beaten in a game LOL.

Don't grow old before your time by forgetting the joy of play - give me your thoughts in the comments about what makes you feel young.

Lists and spreadsheets - oh how I love thee...

A lovely Easter weekend this weekend - a massive drive/walk with the boy on Friday that felt like a real adventure; hanging with the family on Saturday for little sister's birthday (Aliens vs Monsters & Denny's for dinner); lying in bed with the boy on Sunday night, looking at... the computer???

I'm a compulsive planner, as those of you who have been reading this for a while will know. The boy has decided that he would like to tag along on my Sydney trip in July and with April rapidly powering along, we're deep into the planning phase. Late Saturday night I whipped up a rough budget in Google Docs (so we can share it) and last night we did more research into some more recommendations we had been given. I was content to be going by myself but it is amazingly exciting to be planning to go with someone that is as excited as you are.

So far I have a budget spreadsheet and a timetable spreadsheet and I'm struggling to decide between whether having about 8 extra hours in the city is worth an extra $50. Also in the draw is whether we head out to the Blue Mountains and whether we can justify the expense of a hire car to get to Palm Beach - we really want to go (well, I really want to go - I love me some Home and Away :D). List upon list trying to work out the best results combined with two people who have never travelled overseas as adults!

Any advice on travel to Sydney (or international travel in general) for the newbies that are PianoMan and Scribbles?

Sunday Afternoon Reads: Easter Edition

Photo Credit

It being the lead up to Easter, I have been reading a book called A Lineage of Grace - a collection of five novellas that tell in detail the story of five strong women of the Bible : Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba and Mary, the mother of Jesus. It's by the same author that wrote Redeeming Love, Francine Rivers. I found it increased my knowledge of these stories by placing it in the context of the time. As I said to Mama Scribs, I knew about the lying across the feet thing and the sandal in the story of Ruth but I hadn't understood why.

However, my goal in this Sunday afternoon series is to introduce you all to new authors rather than ones that you've met before. So on this special day of the year, I put it over to you - what book do you think everyone should get out there and read?

Putting up with it...

As some of you who follow me on Twitter may know, this week I both worked at my practice school and at my evening job two evenings of this week - this meant I left home at 8am in the morning and got home at half past nine at night. I was over it by ohhh, about two hours into my evening shift on Monday :D

Texting PianoMan, I said I felt really over my job that night and that I wasn't really sure why - usually I love my evening job. He replied that part of it was probably that I'd already worked an entire day and that I was just out of concentration... and I think that's probably true. Teaching is a mentally taxing job. It also freaks me out, just a little, that I have twelve weeks (spread out throughout the rest of the year) of prac and work to go. I also wondered whether part of it is that I've really loved my time at my practice school - the experience has been a real confirmation that I made the right decision to go back to study, that teaching is what I'm meant to be doing with my life. Now a job that doesn't give me the same buzz doesn't quite measure up. I don't intend on giving up this job until January 2010 so I'm hoping I get that loving feeling back.

What it really all boils down to is putting up with it. I'm a firm believer that you can get through almost anything if you know that it is for a finite time. I know that there's only twelve more weeks of the year in which I need to teach and work evenings (and I may take two of those weeks off if I can find cover) and I know that there's only eight more months of work before I'm a beginning teacher (a thought that both excites and terrifies me LOL). There are people I know that are putting up with living oceans away from their partners, that are putting up with living spaces they don't love, that are putting up with all sorts of situations that don't gel with that image they have for their life. It's a heck of a lot easier to put up with it when you know that it's only for a limited amount of time. It's the uncertainty that's harder...

So shoot it back to me, Scribblettes... on this holiday weekend, are there things that you are "putting up with"? Or is uncertainty about the future killing your regular buzz?

Literary Inspirations: William Penn, found on a random piece of paper.

I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.

- William Penn

While in McDonalds (of all places!) on Sunday afternoon, I grabbed a little locally produced newsletter to pass the time until PianoMan came to the table with our food. Bam- right there was the aforementioned quote and it kind of blew my mind. I had no idea who William Penn even was, but I knew that I wanted to share this with you.

It turns out that William Penn founded Pennsylvania in the United States as a somewhat spiritual idyll - it was a province based on religious and moral ideals (my friends from the land of the brave, please enlighten further if you can!). Whether you are religious or not, living life by this creed - doing good and having no regrets - can only be good for your community.

It's inspired me to get involved with my church holiday programme for the holidays. I'm not going to be horrifically burdened by the assignments that need to be completed, I've got very little in the way of work, most of my friends will be working... As much as I'm sure he'd disagree, me showing up on the stoop of PianoMan's work every lunchtime for two weeks would probably get fairly old. I'm being presented with a unique opportunity to volunteer my time and sitting selfishly on my butt is not showing kindness. I may as well sit on my butt at the beach keeping an eye on kids in the water :D

What kindnesses are you doing because you will not get this time again? Scribblettes, I lay down the challenge for you to think of a good deed to do and commit to following through in the comments below. I look forward to hearing these!

Sing us a song, he's my PianoMan...

Chilling out yesterday with the boy, we were looking at costs of flights to Sydney (he's quite keen to come with me in July). While I had the laptop on my legs I decided to show him my website. He's known that I blog but that's been about the extent of it and as we are now an official item, I told him that he had to choose a pseudonym. He's an amazingly talented piano player (just watching his hands blows me away) and so he will be referred to here on out as PianoMan :D

Things between us continue to go fantastically and I can't believe that it will be a month tomorrow. It seems like we only met yesterday yet we've known each other forever. I feel so comfortable with him, it's insane. I used to be really weird about guys touching my tummy - it's not flat, by any stretch of the imagination - but with him it doesn't bother me. It feels comforting and close.We met via a Facebook email and we continue to write them to other every other day or so... it figures that a fantastic relationship of mine would be documented in the written word. He makes me smile, he appreciates me for who I am and makes me look forward to our possible future together.

This is a fairly sentimental and content post and I promise I won't get gushy on you guys too often - just for now I want to wallow in happiness and bliss and the apparent reality of dreams come true.

Sunday Afternoon Read: "How To Stop a Heart From Beating" by Jackie Ballantyne

It can be most peculiar the way way that you trip upon an excellent book - How To Stop A Heart From Beating by Jackie Ballentyne is one of the options for novel study for the Yr 13 class at my practice school. It follows the world of Solange, a single child in the middle of two sets of twins and the imaginary and somewhat macabre world she creates for herself, dancing around the edges of secrets that she cannot fathom the depth of.

Set in South Otago, this book has a real New Zealand flavour but is none the worse for it. The rural background and era (1960s) give Solange, usually referred to as Solly, the freedom to roam around what she perceives as her world in a way that children of another time and place could never dream. Although the book is written from third person perspective, the narrative aligns itself with her state of mind. An example of this is Solly's mistake in hearing paupers' graves as porpoise graves - from then on they are referred to as porpoise graves, even though she has been corrected.

There is just the right mix of slice of life vs. mystery in this book and several moments that will make you want to hold your breath before the final denouement... what I love about the ending is that it is intelligent. It doesn't spell everything out for you, it just gives you the pieces of the puzzle to put together. I've only been able to find internet listings for these books in NZ and Australia but if you manage to see a copy you can get your hands on, it's definitely worth a read!

4 out of 5 stars

Cognitive overload... implosion imminent!

One of the few things I learnt in the introductory weeks of my teaching diploma was about cognitive overload - with children and informative teaching, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing! The downside of learning about this is that I now have a new word to describe how I am feeling at the end of my first week of practicum!

One wonders why after a week mainly sitting on my bum, watching teachers interact with their classes, I am soooooooo tired. Like continually rubbing my eyes while typing this blog post tired. Like my body feels completely heavy tired - it's not even a mental tiredness, it's a physical body ache. It is my body screaming out for rest, if not sleep, like a junkie looking for another fix. I'm happy that the boy has a boys' night tonight so I don't feel bad for spending an evening staring into blank space.

I'm not alone; loads of my colleagues are feeling the same way - the teachers at my practice school are all exhausted as well. We're all at the point of absolute overload... and eying those Easter holidays. It's funny, when you're young you know that these holidays have a religious aspects but you are all about the chocolate... when you're older, you know these holidays have a religious aspect but you're really excited about the break.

Any of my Scribblettes also suffering from tiredness, achey body syndrome or absolute cognitive overload?

Literary Inspiration: Anne Radcliffe on Happiness

Happiness arises in a state of peace, not of tumult.

-Anne Radcliffe, The Mysteries of Udolpho (1764).

Those of us who have grown up reading the classics will recognise "The Mysteries of Udolpho" as the novel that Catherine reads in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. Like many (including several of the characters of the novel Jane Austen Book Club) I always believed that this was a novel that Ms Austen made up to carry a particular theme into the book - wrong! It's a real book filled with little tidbits like the one above.

I think true happiness lies in feeling the bliss of moments; my favourite moments lately seem to consist of quiet nights - calmly eating my way through a delicious dinner with the boy, admiring the tinfoil swan my leftovers came in, lying in bed talking about hopes and dreams, holding hands in silence on a drive through dark countrysides, walking through a school and hearing "Hi miss! How are you enjoying (school name redacted)?". Happiness is in the face of my high school drama teacher squealing with joy because she sees me, in the little desk that my associate teachers have created for me in the block staff room, in the chocolate soy milk waiting in the fridge for me tonight. What is the peace that you find your happiness in?