Hey, I love you.

Dear Abraham,



Hey- welcome to our lives. :-)  I'm guessing you have no idea what you're in for, especially since you're 6 days old and the neurons in your brain have not yet organized and developed to allow you to form memories, let alone make predictions... but let me share some important things with you.

I love you.
Your parents will probably tell you someday that aunt Nicole was not really a baby-enthusiast before she met you. And they wouldn't be wrong. I've got to say- I'm quite surprised with myself... never in my life have I felt so drawn to a child, let alone one that I do not even know, but I've looked at your picture at least 10 times a day since your father texted me last Thursday. You are beautiful. You are real. You are honestly the creation of two people that I love so deeply (Mega-Pumped) and I truly love you already.


I cannot prepare you for the stories I will tell you about your parents, but I can promise you that I will tell you every single embarrassing story about dad that anyone can remember. I hope that I can prepare you to love the Transformers, because you will be getting something that has to do with Megatron from me every year for the rest of your life.
You should prepare yourself for being better at pulling good pranks than anyone else, because your Godmother has got some incredible skills. You actually might not make that many friends through the practical jokes, but- hey, good stories, right? You'll be Rick Rolling your whole pre-school class before they know what hit them.

A few months ago, I stumbled across a book of fortune-cookie fortunes. While I'm not so good at tearing the fortunes out of the book, I'd like to say I'm not bad at choosing the right fortunes for the right situation. I could not decide between these two, which I think are probably equally true:

I'm truly excited to be a part of the magic- and amazed that you have already sucked me in.
I cannot wait to meet you in person. I might even hold you, but let's not get too carried away.
With love,
Nicole
ps. For anyone who is not Matt, Rachel, or Abe, take a look at this adorable gift. Best. Godmother. Ever.

Plymouth Congregational Church of Lawrence

They invited me to post on their blog. Here are some [hopefully-articulated] thoughts on Belonging/Home.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: PEPELKA!

Otherwise known as
Cinderella and the Glass Copat

My awesome students just finished uploading it. Only the first clip is in Slovene language (rest in English), but you can see my former castle-home and my adorable students.

The camera is a BIT shaky, and clips 2-4 are our last performance, which took place at the priest's home with... a few complications.

ENJOY THE SHOW
ps. the files are pretty big.

*remember, the costumes were all made by my 12-year-old student, Kristjan.

A small flight for mankind, a giant leap for my grandmother

Since the first hot air balloon flight in 1783 (which carried a sheep, a duck, and a rooster*), man has dreamed of soaring to new heights... but some more than others.

Meet Darlene Moehlenbrink:
Mother. Grandmother. Trickster. Care-taker.
Dreamer.Since her first sighting of a hot-air balloon, she has dreamed of taking the journey. But greater forces than her desire we working against her...
Mostly wind and rain.

Attempt #1: Sometime in the past two decades, my grandmother and grandfather went on a trip to Ohio. There my grandmother was going to make the flight. However, she didn't, and I don't really know the rest of that story. Sorry.

Attempt #2: In 2008, my sister and I received the call. Gma was going to the Hot-Air Balloon Festival in Topeka, KS, and we were invited to join her. The flight would be tethered, but we could at least step into the basket and float into the air. However, inclement weather prevented us from going.
Think that stopped my grandmother? Think again.

Attempt #3: 2012. Bus trip. Grandma invites her daughter and her grandchildren. It's part of the reason I came back from Slovenia when I did. To be a part of something HUGE.


Let me set the scene. We leave at 6:30 a.m. on a hot-Kansas morn, headed north to Beatrice, NE where we will continue with a bus full of old people (ladies, mostly), to the National Balloon Rally in Indianola, IA. The morning is beautiful as we chug along to our destination with a very old tour guide who, sad to say, did not keep her skilz with age.

We make a few stops as the whole bus... lunch at the 'Iowa Machine Shed', where we are served iced tea out of jars (dear Slovenes, I told you it happens) along with our fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. We head to the Des Monies botanical gardens, take our afternoon naps at the Holiday Inn (remember. Bus trip.), and head to Indianola- the place where some dreams really do come true.



I don't know how much you know about ballooning, but it's an expensive and difficult sport. Each balloon has a crew, and each balloon also has a sort of awesome name. Here are some examples of the balloons we saw:

(My personal favorite was the balloon shaped like an eagle, but we only saw that one during the night balloon glow.)

Now, on Friday, July 27th, the conditions were not entirely perfect. It was a windy day in Indianola, perhaps too windy- we had no choice but to wait in nervous anticipation. Would my grandmother be thwarted a FOURTH time? Would she have to surrender this dream??

A little wind doesn't stop Grandma Moehlenbrink.

And luckily, a little wind doesn't stop the Balloon Rides either. The winds slowed enough to let us jump into the baskets, but were roaring enough to give us a really fantastic ride.






Sometimes, you're lucky enough to have your dream come true. Keep soarin', grandma.

*And was, consequently the protocol for diversity posters.

Thieves

Well- it's over.
Last day of work on Monday. Goodbye Osnovna Šola Antona Tomaža Linharta...

On Wednesday I finished my final 'meeting' with my project team, and then rode away honestly singing the song 'Freedom' as I hustled toward my next meeting (coffee with the old men that sit in front of my (former) castle). And I really really do feel utterly free.

This has been a really wild experience for me: Living in a place that I love, being surrounded by people that I have come to love, being fed with food that loves me... and yet constantly struggling with a set of interactions that has really taken a toll on me during the last year.

Now, I am going to get back to that, but in typical-Nicole-style, I'd like to relate this to something I love, using a large metaphor that, most-likely, only I will understand.
Shawn Hunter's Graduation Speech. Now this isn't me getting overly-emotional about graduating (that was high school Nicole. Ask my mom about the many days when I would put on my cap and gown as a 17-year-old and just sob in front of the mirror). People graduate and move away and change- and I am now a huge fan of that. I now understand how critical it is to experience new things and people (and that it doesn't necessarily require you to break off old ties and connections, especially if they continue to form who you are)...

This blog post is about the content of what Shawn says as he's reflecting over a period of time in his life.
I could've done better.

I could've done better.

This was a hard year. I continuously struggled with some conflicts that just would not come to an end- even when I thought they had I was floored by the reality that the misunderstandings between us were so huge they just were not going to dissipate. So I gave up. But not in love. But not in grace. Not in anything else I would be proud of.

I'm not really pleased. And though I am still doing a little happy dance about this relationship being over, I am also asking myself where I could have done better, aside from how I was treated. How could I have been more gracious? It's utterly transparent that I could have loved more.

Don't get me wrong- I'm certainly not placing the blame solely on myself... nor am I regretting the experience that I had, but merely acknowledging that I have fallen super short of grace.

I could've done better.

And there is a song that captures what I am trying to say- it's called Thieves by Quiet Corral and it's my listen-to-on-repeat-song of the week:

we were born to be the thieves we are
so nothing’s safe

leave you crying but you should be thankful
we left you with your wife with your life
with your little ones
we might have taken you for all your worth
but it could have been worse 

As a natural optimist, I always see the glass half (more like 3/4) full. But I also hope for the best from everyone so strongly that I get these unfair expectations where I expect near perfection. I don't think that it's bad to hope for perfection, but maybe I do need to hope for perfection while also realizing that by nature we are thieves.

All of the things I shouldn't be doing

Much like many young people in the world, I have a hard time doing exactly that which I should be doing most. I know I'm not alone- I mean, haven't we all spent a finals week obsessively making smoothies or playing sudoku? Haven't we all chosen laser tag over writing a term paper... at least once? Don't tell me you don't remember that week in college when you stayed in your pajamas eating your half-birthday truffles and reading the Half-Blood Prince instead of walking to campus in the snow for super-exciting SOE classes.

Well, I'm struggling here- there are about 354 things I need to do in Slovenia in the next month- many of which are actually due in the next week and a half. And yet, here I am. Watching episodes of How I Met Your Mother (I can't help it, Jason Segal is my favorite actor) and ''packing'' for the seaside. And here in Episode 3, season 2, Marshall is back into the dating circle and the television show is making fun of how bad he is at the game BECAUSE HE'S DOING ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I HAVE ALREADY DONE. Seriously- the last episode showed him shaking a girls hand and then talking about sweat. For too long.
This reminded me of a time that I had a crush on this guy who came too class really sweaty and I consoled him. By talking to him about sweat! For too long!! What is WRONG with me!?!

And writing THIS story reminded me of other hilarious/socially unacceptable dating situations I've been in. Years ago, I had a small (jk, huge) colony of plantar's warts living on my foot. I wasn't so embarrassed about it- I got them in taekwondo, which means I could easily kick the ass of anyone who tried to make fun of me. So anyway, I just dealt with it. For a while I was going to the podiatrist somewhere on Iowa street, and I drove past it on what was maybe-a-date with Nathan from my soc class. Nathan was super cool- like, leather jacket cool, and also happened to be very fun. We went mountain biking (see very old blog post about dates-going-wrong) and on the way back we passed the podiatrist, sparking this conversation:

Oh! I have to remember that I have an appointment tomorrow!
Wait, you have a podiatrist appointment?
Yes, I have a MASSIVE colony of plantar's warts
Oh, man, I actually do too.
Oh, yeah!!! Up-top!!!
------
Apparently giving high fives for both having HPV on your foot is not ok. He even told me that- by saying:
Nicole! I will not high-five you for that. Why aren't you embarrassed? You are supposed to be embarrassed!

I wasn't. I'm still not. Viruses happen, people. Especially if you explore places. So what happened to Nathan? Nothing. We didn't go for another date, but he did move to one of the Carolina's. I'm hoping that my lack-of-dating skills were not enough to drive him to another state.

And oh yeah, I would like to say that I have been Plantar's-Warts- free now for 3 years at least. The podiatrist was worthless- I got rid of them on my own. How? I would tell you, but it's too gross for a public blog. But ask me on a date and I might just give you all of the details...

Cinderella and the Glass Copat

 A few months ago, I embarked on a project with these fine children.  What was it? A story that you all know. Well... sort of.

Back in high school, Jessica Dawn Rogers and myself decided to write and direct a few one-act plays. Spoofs of familiar stories- perhaps changed so much that they weren't even recognizable (jk, they still were, they just weren't necessarily understandable). If you were lucky enough to know us in high school... perhaps you remember Albert Kong as the moon, Taylor Holenbeck playing a sort-of-stupid gangster, Adam Durar as a VERY confused 'Good-lookin' Guy'... Katie Wetzel as a tap-dancing evil stepsister... Chris Coffey as the gross best friend.

Well I took one of those stories and re-wrote it (remake of the remake) to make it appropriate for middle school English Language Learners in Slovenia. Basically I mean I took out the references to MHS, jokes that only Jess and I would understand, and added in some cultural jokes here.

How did it go?
It
Was
Incredible.

First of all- these kids are seriously remarkable. Their English, their humor, and their creativity. OH YEAH, and did I mention that ONE BOY made all of these costumes?! Check it out.

 

Clearly, the evil stepmother (above)

Here you see Chloe and Jennifer, the two evil step-sisters, fighting about who is prettier/smarter.

AHHHH, The Fairy Godfather, complete with wings made by Kristjan, our designer. He sort of stole the show.

Love at first sight?

 Awww, poor Cinderella has to go back to her horrible life with her evil step-family. Good thing MY step-family RULES.

But the slipper may save her after all (and really, we mean a slipper. Slovenes LOVE THEM). PS. Note the crinkle marks on this audience members' eyes from SMILING SO MUCH.

This picture could seriously be used for a pamphlet or something. Perfect?



I want to do it all over again.

So wait- not everyone shows their emotions on their sleeves?

I would normally consider myself to be especially empathetic. I think that my 4th grade teacher did a really good job of teaching this concept and, if anything, I try too hard to put myself in others' shoes... as a teacher, this is also a weakness- I put myself in others shoes and then assume that everyone really is ME in their shoes, and thus does love learning for the sake of learning and wants to please the teacher because it's the right thing to do (and thus does think that my jokes are funny. Also, wrong). In reality, some kids just don't care.

And then the opposite is true: There are times when I am completely and utterly surprised by the emotions that people are holding on to because I have not tried to put myself in their shoes, and couldn't even if I wanted to. These Slovenes, I'll tell you what. I cannot predict the level with which they care about things because they express it in such a different way than I am used to doing myself (which is on every part of my face. SEE: CASA BONITA VIDEO 2008).

Well in a few areas of my life I've been starting to understand that people (even back home) really can care about things and express them differently than me. Sounds like a no-brainer, but it's pretty revolutionary in my life. Slovenes are known for being quite closed and taking a while to warm up to people. I've been living in Gorenjska for a long time now and couldn't agree more (with exceptions, of course). There have been people who have immediately taken to me (i.e. everyone under the age of 13), there have been people that have immediately and obviously disliked me, and I assumed that everyone else just didn't really care.


However, the past week or so brought me a few really touching moments- perhaps even more so because these moments showed me how little I understood about how we all effect each other.

1. Volleyball goodbyes. Ok- I don't think it's a secret that most of my company is either twice or half my age. And I love it. So much. I once read a book where a grandmother writes her grandson a letter and it says something like I hope that you find someone to be the blessing that you have been to me, and by that, I mean someone of a younger generation. Love this. Especially because I can totally relate here-- and I can see the ways that I have been a blessing to those older than me. Last week we were supposed to have our final game and afterwards we all met for a drink. Sandi shook my hand at the end- I like Sandi... he never says hi to me when he comes, but sometimes I wave at him from the other side of the court (it's more acceptable here than in taekwondo, where I also wave to people). Sandi is good. Probably about 63 or 64. He's got a weak serve but a wicked spike. So anyway... Sandi shook my hand, and then KEPT HOLDING ON TO IT while looking me in the eye.
'I am happy to know you. You have brought so much positive energy to the game, to our group. It will be very sad to see you go, but don't forget about us. We won't forget you. We won't forget your smile.'
I cried, but don't worry, we were in the kitchen so I pretended to cut onions. No one noticed.

2. Birthday wishes. This is your day, right? Well, at least June 2nd is mind, and now hopefully everyone should know... I've worked DAMN hard to make sure everyone hears a little melody in their heads on this day. Anyway- I got to celebrate with 2 groups of people that I really love... my students and my friends. However, I received a little surprise from the 5th graders, who remembered it was my birthday and were standing SILENTLY (this would mean more if you knew them), prepared to sing as soon as I walked into their door. Getting school-birthday rejected for the past 24 years was FULLY redeemed last week. Beautiful.

3. The art teacher. Now this was also really touching. I don't really know the art teacher. She sticks to herself for the most part, which I totally understand, given middle school drama in the staffroom. I've always liked her though. Once we met for coffee and she bought me a little chocolate thing that looks (and tastes?) like a hedgehog (just kidding about the former parenthesis).
She came to the play! Her, the gym coach, one of the cleaning ladies, two English teachers, and a 5th grade teacher. Amazing. I was floored.  And even more so when she gave me a flower before the performance and told me that she was already sure it was going to be a great show.

Anyway- the point of all of this is to express my gratitude to Sandi, to Tone, to Vika, and to 5C. It is a gift to care for people... and it is a gift to be encouraged. I seriously feel like I'm swimming in love. Hopefully that explains the cheesiness of this post.

Vanilla Ice

Although I am often regarded as an exceptionally cheerful and positive girl, there is a pretty long list of things that get on my nerves... probably a little too easily.

However, yesterday as I was contemplating life on my bicycle, I realized that much of this edge has been dulled in the past year. Is it because I've somehow become more patient? I really hope so, although I think it's perhaps more likely that my quick frustration with pet-peeves have gotten lost living in a foreign environment.

But there are a FEW things that will drive me crazy regardless of where I live. Most are not important, some would perhaps be a little too passive-aggressive to put on a blog. And thus, I give you the abridged list of things that drive me nuts:

• Having NO regard for time. 

Ok, look, I know that I am not perfect here. In my earlier years I took great pride in being a little bit late... still...nothing needs to be too rigid- no big deal. However, few things make me more crazy in school than the bell ringing and all of the teachers continuing to stand around and talk to each other! Go to class! We have to teach these young people things! I have come to think that valuing time is a way to show that you also value the time of whomever you're meeting with.

• People that cook really delicious things and then cut themselves the smallest peace in the world because it has too much 'fat'.

Of COURSE it does. But is it really fair for you to make super amazing things and then look down on other people for taking a very (very) large portion? No. I will never be a super skinny girl- and though I may be annoyed with my struggle for self control at places like Mr. Bulkey's and my grandmother's house, I am also not ashamed to say that I can hit a bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms pretty hard.

• The people that are disappointed when they realize that 'Ice Ice Baby' is really 'Under Pressure'

Yes, they have almost the same intro. But I cannot believe how many bars I've been in during my mere 4 years of bar-hood when people let out sighs of disappointment upon hearing Queen when anticipating Vanilla Ice. Are you kidding me? It's like getting Morgan Freeman and demanding Tracy Morgan. Being given Casa Bonita and demanding Taco Bell. You people make me sick.

There is a place that I often
go on my bike when I need
beauty
or when I don't.
I am always
surprised.
my expectations are always
exceeded.
even my colorful mind,
which always
imagines things being better than they really are,
cannot contrive a place this magical.

It isn't the way the sun
shines on the trees in the valley
nor the color of the mountain wreath
surrounding me
it isn't even the beauty
itself,
I don't know what makes this beauty so beautiful
perhaps that
is it.

Brianna.
She saw this place.
maybe she lived there, now that I think about it.
because I know I heard her sing about it in
every note.
and I always
wondered.
How can a song be so beautiful that it forbids
jealousy
so beautiful that it's conquered even that.
And Robin. In her red dress
every Sunday.
Tender heart filled with love. Always
good.
Kevin. The stories they tell.
That beauty- it's
always.


I do not understand.
I do not
understand. Zdravko. Always
tender.
we were a good team,
weren't we.
I think we won. but maybe we lost
it isn't so important.
in fact, it doesn't matter at all. 

I do not
understand.
Didn't you ever take that path there?
where I go on my bike
when I need
beauty
or when I don't.

even my colorful mind,
which always
imagines things being better than they really are,
cannot contrive a place this magical.

I don't know what makes this place so beautiful.
but just knowing that it is
is enough

Something's Coming

Could it be?

Yes it could.

Somethin's comin'

Something good.

If I can wait.

Somethin's coming

I don't know 

What it is

But it is

It's gonna be great.

Something IS COMING. Perhaps that sounds like a super lame statement. Obviously something is coming. Itak, Nicole. But what? Where to go from here?

Last week I found out that I will NOT be receiving a Boren Fellowship. Bummer. Škoda. I've been coasting for a while, perhaps even riding the wave of scholarships and grants to Slovenia, but I guess even Johnny Tsunami has to fall off sometimes- and I guess I've gotten much better in time at dealing with Emergency Swimming Situations.

Truth is, while I received an initial shock at my plans finding themselves up in the air, a little bit of excitement has began. Ok, a lot. Like, I couldn't sleep on Wednesday night because I was so excited about whatever is next. I might be here (I'm speaking to my principal tomorrow about my chances at getting hired even if the project I work for completely loses funding) in Slovenia- working part time and finishing my thesis... and I might not. I'm hoping for wisdom and clarity in this time of chaos, but have miraculously already received peace in the knowledge that I am an adventurist- if I go where I think I should go, it is going to be an adventure.

"There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open." -Jawaharial Nehru

 

I gave him the side hug

Social skills are a difficult thing to measure.
In some social areas, I'd say I'm doing just fine. For example, I generally make a pretty good first impression among parents. Actually, most parents love me, and I'm pretty sure a few have even tried to encourage their sons to court me. I've got some amazing trait that makes kids flock after me* and even attempt to emulate my every move**. Regardless of which country I am in, I'm always popular among the nursing-home crowd...

And yet, there are some skills that are just absolutely not there, or at least frequently missing: Like the ability to open the door without hitting my own face. Or the grace in leaving a shop without knocking over the display by the front door. Or the power to be in pictures without my mouth open. I do not think that I can be in a remotely exciting situation without looking like a little kid on Christmas (and not just any kid on Christmas... but one who's seeing snow for the first time after just finding out that they're going to Disney world the next day). I must be the worst person in the world at being smooth...

I am not sure how people would describe me in 3 words... but I am guessing it would not be 'smooth', 'cool', and 'relaxed' (unless, of course, the person describing me was me, in which case 'COOL' would definitely be in the mix. Along with wonderful... charming...).

Earlier this weekend I was spelunking with a friend and her family. I had to apologize for nearly wiping out for the bajillionth time and described myself as being awkward (actually, I first incorrectly said ''Nerodno mi gre'' and then later asked my friend if I said that correctly. Apparently, I said that I am embarrassed instead of that I am awkward, so I had to return to Ana's sister and tell her that I didn't mean I am embarrassed, but that instead I mean I am awkward). She asked me why I think that... and after a very long pause, I decided to answer her with this: ''Nisem sigurna'' (''I am not sure'').

Lie. I just didn't want to try to explain in Slovene. I have about 500 stories that involve me saying the wrong thing at the wrong time... echoing something that someone else said immediately and in front of them without realizing I am doing so... sneezing phlegm onto someone else's math paper... falling on my face while giving 20 college kids a tour of campus... The earliest super awkward occasion that I can remember was giving a PROJECT TALK on making your own picture frames in 4-H when I was young. ''Just remember, you must leave one side unglued... which I forgot to do'' (so I'll just slide in this picture that I took with the judge leaving glue streaks across her face). My most recent awkward occasion involved going back to the bike shop (where I'd already been several times last week) to attach the cleats to my new shoes. I made a spectacle of having found the cleats that came with the pedals that I'd bought at another store on sale... only to realize that I left them at home, had to leave again, and knocked over a whole line of bikes on my way out of the shop.

A normal day in my life is anything but glorious. However, I've gotten so used to these moments that I no longer get embarrassed by them- I just take them in stride. Tell them as stories, even. Which is where the title comes in: The story of my favorite lack-of-social-skills-moment, the answer to Mateja's question if I had enough language skills:
Several years ago, the dream team took a trip to visit Kate Wasserman in Dallas, TX. Amanda, Tyler and myself packed into Tyler's car and hit the open road. There are many stories from this trip worth repeating, and many moments that I would like to destroy along with any videos that had been made later capturing these moments (I will seriously be very upset if you attempt to post a link here. Please don't).
Somewhere in the middle of this trip, we went to lunch with Tyler's aunt and uncle. We met them at their house after passing the first Chile's in existence (at which time I complained about how much I hate Chile's. It's got to be one of my least favorite restaurants in the world. Derek loves it though, and for this reason we had to go every year on his birthday from the time he had teeth until the time I moved to another country). For some reason, this was one of those days where I was not fully with it. A little slow on the uptake... drifting in and out of the conversations. One moment we were in the living room chatting about our majors... next moment, I'm fading in and out of convos in the kitchen ('Yeah! It's the first Chile's ever made- we'd love to take you all there for lunch)... next moment, Tyler's uncle comes over to me and out of nowhere GIVES ME THE SIDE HUG.
Yeah, I was confused about it too. I gave Tyler this look like ''What's wrong with your uncle? Why is he reaching out to hug me?''. Tyler just shook his head.
Apparently his hat was on the shelf behind me, and I misread, causing me to reach out and cling to him.

I cannot say that the awkwardness of the day stopped there. I also caused a lot of confusion in the parking lot of Chile's, also with hugging. Additionally, as I recall, there was a moment when someone stopped at our table to tell Amanda that her taco was the same size as her head. I had nothing to do with that moment, but its worth mentioning nonetheless.

________________________________________________________________
*Probably my extreme wisdom and maturity.
**Muhaha

Mega-pumped

"There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open." -Jawaharial Nehru

Love that. It's been really nice to contemplate 'adventure' in my life throughout the past year, as I've spent a good amount of time on a bicycle, traveling through these here Karavanke Alps... and for the moment- for the here and now, I am 100% sure that the adventure I'm living at the moment is right for the Nicole I am right now (yeah yeah, stick with me). And I'm also 100% sure that someday, although I hope to still be the proper Nicole (though perhaps a version that is somehow... more Nicole? Ha- ''further up and father in''), I will be pursuing very different adventures.

But this blog post is not about me, rather it is about an adventure that is not mine but that I am somehow lucky enough to be included in. An undertaking which I have smiled about prettttttttttty much continuously since I heard the news:

Matthew and Rachel are bringing a new life into this world.
Now, after this post, I will probably only refer to the baby as 'Megatron', seeing as more than 74 people liked that really clever and well done facebook page that was created by some genius(es) that cyberspace will unfortunately not identify. But for now I will refer to this baby as a little gem that is going to get to grow up with two of my favorite people in the world.


If you've had the pleasure of knowing Matthew and Rachel, you undoubtedly love them both individually. Rachel is fiery. She's got a passion about whatever she chooses to do, whether it be theater, advising freshman, supporting KU basketball, watching Titanic... she will succeed at anything she wants in her life- I know this, and the implications her character has for her new role as a mother is absolutely thrilling. She has always been responsible and down-to-earth and practical. She has also always been full of interesting things to share. She is always ready to listen (although you may need to call her 7 or 8 times before she'll notice that you need her), and she will travel great lengths to be there for you, even when she is tired. If you've seen her worry or felt her wrath, you'll have no problem imagining her being motherly. And if you are lucky enough to really know her well, you'll have no problem imagining her caring deeply and always.

And Matthew. The proctor we all know and love. The only one whose phone would connect with Lisa Eriksen's. Comedian. Genius. Dr. Gibson. Baby Jay. Always caring, always loving, always making fun of Rachel when she is not looking. Always, always willing to help in whatever way he can, or to learn how to help when he can't.

I love you two, dear friends. I am glad that I get to know you as individual people... and I am also glad that I get to celebrate the two of you together. To see the truly beautiful ways that you balance each other out and encourage each other. To see how love exists between you and how you exist among love. What a great adventure you have already been living. I am so very thrilled as you embark on a new part of the adventure- to see how this beautiful child will further balance you out and bring out parts of you that you might not even know yet.

Before I heard the news, I didn't know how I would take it... it's been said that I don't like babies (wait a second... I heard a song this one time, about a girl who didn't like babies or domesticated animals?), and I'd be lying if I said that they didn't make me uncomfortable in the past. Additionally, I am not even remotely close to being ready for this chapter of my life... but none of that matters. I am SO EXCITED. I am SO HAPPY. Rachel and Matt are having a baby, and it is going to grow up with hilarious and wonderful parents and be surrounded in love. Good work with those open eyes, Matt and Rachel- I'd say that you landed yourself on quite a worthy adventure.
Love you,
-Botra :)

It's a secret no one knows... (and a blog post no one can predict the direction of...)

Today was a surprisingly good day. I usually expect good days (at least now that I am LOVING my job again), but every once and a while, I anticipate being a little bit down, especially when life brings a responsibility to do some hard or unpleasant things. But those things are not a part of the story for today- rather, today's story tells of peace and delight.

Let's back this thing up:
When I was little, I looked for happiness like all children: The temporary stuff... you know, those things that won't last (i.e. ice cream cones, cycling, roller-blading... oh wait...). Then I grew up (ha) and realized that ''Men can only be happy when they do not assume that the object of life is happiness'' (George Orwell). I think that this is a good word that echos the creepy words that have been abused over and over again through time... Do it for the greater good. But since I am not a Death eater or a dictator or one of those village watch people trying to win the best-community-in-England for the x-teenth time in a row, I can say that I believe many things need to be done for the greater good, leading to the most complete (i.e. mental, physical, emotional) health possible (take that with a grain of salt- as many of you remember, 25cent cone month at DQ was pretty much the happiest month of my life).

Part of that, for me, means following my heart- even if it means I am 7 time zones away from where I want to be to watch the KU defeat Kentucky (admittedly, I don't care so much about basketball, but I'm missing an opportunity to be excited with you amazing people, give high fives to strangers, and hopefully watch one friend accidentally give another a black eye).

I don't know where I will be next year. I know (well, sort of) what my heart is telling me... but am still working on the practical issues- which I am not generally as concerned with. I'm sure that sometime I will receive a rude awakening, but it still seems like following your heart (and by that, I hope that I mean a heart that exists to worship God in as complete of a way as possible) will lead you exactly to the place you need to go.

(I can't tell if I sound too much like a hippie or a religious fanatic writing this?)

It's really nice to see where many of you have ended up, also by following your heart for what you should at this point in life. What exciting things- Some of you in a different culture, a new environment. Some have embarked on the incredible adventure of love. Some are now bringing new lives into the world (!). How amazing to see the equally valuable things that we have all found ourselves doing. Beautiful.

It's been an interesting journey toward OWNING what I feel like my life has given me at this point. I don't think that I expected this path for myself years ago. I definitely didn't when I was a little girl- I remember imagining myself as a college student- I imagined I would have a serious boyfriend, a very large perm, and would live somewhere like California. I definitely expected to be fashionable. Talented, probably. This was probably at the time I also thought I would be an astronaut (before the very significant period of time where I thought I would be an actress in Disney Channel Original Movies). Interesting how none of those things really seemed to pan out... and how I've finally really started to be confident in my path regardless of its divergence from any of the expectations that I've had.

One thing that Slovenes are really really good at is OWNING whatever they're doing. If you've got a talent here, you are really proud of it. If you can sing, you sing. If you like singing, but are horrible, you sing anyway. If you've got any artistic ability, you enter into every art competition possible, if you like your shirt, but nobody else does, you wear it anyway. If your favorite animal is a honey-bee, you are not too embarrassed to write it in your letter to your American pen-pal. Perhaps these examples do not portray the depth to which you can feel it in these kids, but it has inspired me to try to own more of my own decisions and the things on my heart. And it's made me really motivated to follow up my decisions and my heart with ACTIONS that live out what I decide to do (note: I am not saying I'm SUCCESSFUL in this, but look- I'm tryin' here).

SO, although this is not where I expected this blog post to go, and although I don't think that I really have a right to give an emotional speech or advice, I'm going to try to encourage you to own whatever you're doing. I do not mean do whatever you said you would do once- that is stubbornness and, in my opinion, locks politicians and girlfriends and teachers into doing stupid shit. BUT the advice that I am trying to follow right now is to re-evaluate what is on my heart and then embark on 'whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable...' And embark on it with confidence and energy even if it leads to the unknown, trusting that it's on my heart for such a real reason that I will inevitably get to where I need to go.

You may have luck, but I am the luckiest of them all.

I believe that good things happen to good people. I believe that bad things happen to good people. I believe that all things happen to all people.

That being said, there are a few people who seem to exist outside of the rules. One such person was Gustavo- for those of you who've met him, maybe you remember the time that a bush next to him was struck by lightening while he was unscratched. Or the time that he noticed his bike was broken and found a wrench on the ground to tighten things up. Or the time his flip-flop broke and there was literally another shoe unclaimed on the sidewalk next to him. Or the time that his bike was stolen, but it was ok because someone gave him a saxophone an hour later. I've mostly just heard the stories, but when you meet him you can feel something in his aura that is different. Perhaps it's because he himself is carefree. I don't know exactly, but I do know that the world WORKS for Gustavo, and I am ok with that, because Gustavo will also work for the world.

Now, I wouldn't say that the world works for me like it does for Gustavo, but there is a hint in that direction. When I was little, I won almost every drawing that I entered my name into (perhaps to my mother's displeasure... seeing as I won things like a GIANT stuffed Penguin ((Lindsy- remember that???)) from the mall). But my luck didn't end with stockings and gas cards and stuffed birds, it's continued in more substantial ways in adulthood. I've certainly gotten lucky with the people that I've met while traveling (luck: possibly saving my life). I've caught the right person's eye at KU events to get shirts thrown directly at me in the size I want, I've happened to sing the right chicken-egg-development song to the right person landing me a job with KUUB, I've asked the right stranger for directions and ended up making a life-long friend.

And today? Today I had a much more Gustavo like experience. I woke up and had a gorgeous bikeride around Bled and was really pushed by a friend of mine to keep going further. I decided to stop by the grocery store on the way home, although I was worried about how to carry the jar of fefferonis home. Was it a problem? No way. Why? Because I saw some lady with samples. Of chocolate. And not just any chocolate! The very chocolate that I was hoping to find one of these days (because my sweet student Dejan gave me a bar of Honey-chocolate to give to my parents. But they already left, so I said I would try it and send the other half to them... but then I couldn't, because it was DELICIOUS (sorry 'rents)). I took a sample (obviously) and the woman asked me if I liked it. I said it was incredible, and she said... you know, if you buy 3 bars, I will give you this bag.

So now, I am home with all of my groceries, 3 bars of the best chocolate I've ever tasted, and a beautiful hemp grocery bag which I can use to carry my teacher stuff around.
Life is good.

Science Club Day 4: PERCEPTION

'In the province of the mind, what one perceives to be true, either is true, or soon becomes so.' -John Lilly

Today I jumped into a rather difficult task- asking my 8th and 9th graders to enter into a psychological and philosophical debate about perception and reality. The one and only Danny Najera did a lab like this once. He showed my human anatomy dissection class a series of images and asked us to start contemplating perception. Since that time I've tried to include it (successfully and unsuccessfully) into MY lessons. It's hard though. Why? Because perception is insane.

Today I started the lab with some simple stations. One station- students eat a candy with their eyes closed and nose plugged- ok, not difficult. Demonstrates that your sense of smell deeply influences what you taste. Another station- students test their sense of touch by poking each other with scissors in various places on their body (appropriately...) and measuring the distance in between the scissors when students only feel one point. This is where the discussion of perception begins. If you feel one point when two are touching you- what is reality to you? Does it match with the ACTUAL reality of the world? And what IS actual reality? Does it exist at all???

I think that I love this conversation about reality so much because I have had some experiences in the last few years that has made me question reality and belief in the impossible. Maybe I don't always have a firm grip on reality. For a few years now, I've been living in the belief that whatever I want to happen will in fact happen. And because of that, I've gotten to be a part of some really cool things, go some really cool places (which the govt. paid- the only way I had a chance of affording these things), and see some really beautiful stories of redemption play out. For example, one person in my life spent a good deal of time addicted to meth. He was in and out of jail, and in his craziest moments threatened to kill someone. He is now doing alright and a part of that, according to him, is knowing that people actually believed he could be ok. Having someone see this crazy goal (him healing from his addiction to meth) as a reality was some sort of medicine that gave him the strength to go on. I guess I also think that you can be that medicine for yourself, if you believe that your own crazy dreams can come true.

Maybe I read too many of the 'Choose your own ending books' when I was little or read too many of the inspirational quotes that Jessica Heath may have had on stationary somewhere ('Shoot for the moon... even if you miss you'll land among the stars') but I have this belief that reality will be whatever I want it to be (which I hope and believe is also a part of something larger). And part of that is because I'm a natural optimist, but another part of that is because I believe in SO MANY crazy things happening that some of them are bound to... and when they do, it just fuels the fire for more.

I'm not positive that this is the way to go- sometimes I am crestfallen when reality materializes and I find out that I, in fact, totally missed the mark. But I think that there is something to be said for belief in the unlikely, or even impossible.

Love you all. If you need me, I'll be watching and re-watching 'I believe I can fly'.

Forty-Five minutes

Today I went to the doctor, the dentist, and got my blood tested in 45 minutes.

I've since lost an hour just thinking about how crazy that was.

Megatron, Munchers, Mary-Kate Mondays, AMANDA COME BACK INTO MY LIFE!

Dear Amanda,

I was just thinking about what a wonderful team we were, and how far away you are. Maybe we can brainstorm more things that start with M, and you can come and visit?

Love forever,
Nicole

Human Soup

I have become rather good friends with one of my student's sister. Her name is Daša and it's been really great to get to know her. True, she's still not my age, but she's older than 13 and younger than 55, which makes her a lot closer than a good number of my friends here. Plus, there's something quite nice about being friends with someone younger than you. Something special, I do believe.

Before I came, I didn't think so much about coming to a small town, but had I, I would have expected to know everyone's whole family. And I have met several of them now from local events, from kids bringing their parents to frisbee, from students yelling to me from across the street, or from running into them at the grocery store*. In Daša's family, I know them even better because of the things that they have invited me to do with them (i.e. go skiing in Italy). It's pretty amazing. The other day she introduced me to her grandmother and grandfather, and we saw one of her uncles later the same day. Whole family? Yeah, I'm pretty much in.

But I guess that's not the limit, due to the small town atmosphere, the fact that I teach everyone's kid, nephew, cousin, whatever, the rarity of having a stranger living permanently in your town, and my very, very red winter coat, I am sort of known here. The community knows me as 'our Američanka' which I kind of really love.

In a way it reminds me of another time in my life... a time where I was just a regular student teacher in another small community, just trying to make it at Perry Lecompton High School. But the other members of the community were known to the school just like they are here.

My favorite part about that experience was lunch. Quickly I realized that the place to be during lunch was NOT with the teachers in the staff room, but in the cafeteria. On the court, if you will. In the paint.
Why was this the place to be?
Let me introduce you to the team:

1. Point guard- Mr. Scrimgouer (I never did know how to spell it). Shop teacher. Very tall man. Relaxed? Yes. Calm? Yes. In charge? Definitely. Ate two school lunches every day at the beginning of the year, until his wife started packing him ''healthy choice'' lasagnas. Afraid of blood.

2. Shooting guard- Mr. Haggard. Steady, dependable. Beloved biology teacher. My mentor. Incredible about giving me space and opportunities. Spent the whole time I was teaching building super awesome things like a giant Newton's cradle and hover craft. Knew everything about everything, really. Shared his muffins almost every day.

3. Power forward- Mr. Larsen. Fellow student-teacher. Hilarious. Well received. Fashionable. Ate from the cave every day out of comradery with the students and possible laziness. Spilled coffee on his pants every morning. The students noticed.

4. Small forward- Ms. Schmidt. You know me, so I probably don't need to repeat the usual compliments that I give to myself. Though I should add, amazing ability to dunk.

5. Center- Clint (Clive? Clay?). The local cop. Came almost every day during lunch because he didn't have anything else to do. Ate 2, sometimes 3 lunches. Big man. Full of stories. Loved anime.

Sub- Martin. Not one of my students. Came to enjoy our company. Not the healthiest eater... once saw him eat a tub of cool whip and a snickers for lunch. Heard he washed it down with a bottle of Hershey's chocolate 'shell' syrup.


As you can imagine, this was an extremely entertaining group of people. I had my plan period during lunch also, so I was able to stay during the entire lunch period if I wanted to, and usually that is exactly what I wanted to do. Amazing.

It's hard to pick a favorite memory from this team... it could be the time I brought fresh spring rolls:
Mr. S: WHAT are those?
Me: Spring Rolls! (almost take a bite)
Mr. S: Ahhhh! Wait! It's still got the paper. You're so excited to eat them you've still got the paper!

Or it could be the time I was denied giving blood (stupid anemia) and Mr. Scrimguer confessed being horribly afraid of needles and hating to talk about this stuff, which reminded Cliff of all of this days as a detective, and all of the things that he found. Which he told us about, much to Mr. Scrimguer's displeasure, throughout the rest of the lunch period.

Here school lunch is different. We have snack, but kids eat with their classes, teachers eat in the staff room. There is lunch, but it's not mandatory and kids eat right before they go home. The food is about 1000x better, but I'd give anything to have my old lunch back.



*Which, I should mention, is NOT my favorite place to run into kids with their parents.

Hand-written letters are the best thing in the world to receive

So I really want to start pen-pals with my students. Any teacher friends want in??? I'm hoping to match 2 8th grade classes and 1 7th grade class, but I am not sure if I can find enough willing teachers! If you have any suggestions, please tell. Also, if you want a 13-year old pen-pal, you let me know about that too.

Google Translate: What a Delight

I am still quite far away from perfect fluency in Slovene, and read much slower in my second language than in my first. However, I know that it's good for me to not be lazy and try to understand; to break down words, to read carefully without using a translator. So why do I still use Google translate?

Hi, Nicole!

Thank you for PowerPoint. Considers it very much.
I would like, if you are involved from:

- How are the people - the Americans had a seizure?

- What has this changed? (in people's lives)

- Or the Americans today remember this event? How?

You can have more than 25 minutes.

I suggest that you start to watch you. I thought I would start to look at an excerpt from the film - Attack on Pearl Harbor, but I really like this.

Can we continue this in your DB?
Have fun.

________________________________________________
Let's hope that the Americans didn't have a seizure.

Pizza in the mornin', pizza in the evenin', pizza at supper time...

Sometimes in Slovenia, I live out the bagel bites slogan. But without the bagel.

Here's to not giving in:

V-Day: A tribute to love.

Last week I asked my students to write about the greatest thing ever- an idea that I stole from Parker J Guidry, to follow the ''Persuade Me'' idea given to me by T$ Harnett (Thank goodness my friends are English teachers. Laird, Wetz, Vander Yacht- consider this a challenge).

I got some pretty interesting papers from some pretty interesting kids. Of course, it was a mix of kids being honest and kids trying to impress me (subjects included the tooth fairy, cell phones, St. Nicolas, the washing machine, being in wild nature, winning a feau major tournament, being alive, Einstein's Theory of Relativity, and love). The most well written was obviously 'The Theory of Relativity' (''Other people might think that [the greatest thing ever] is something else. Well, they're wrong, but according to this theory, they might be right. Because it's all relative''). I'd love to hear your votes, just based on the ideas alone-- and if you give a one-sentence description of your choice, that would be awesome. I am stuck between two.

However, due to the proximity of everybody's favorite holiday, I will share ''The Best Think Ever'' written about love (yes, she did exchange the word 'thing' for 'think' every single time).



I agree with Žana, but for slightly different reasons (I'm definitely with her on the stomach thing- although there might be something even better in those conversations when you forget about all of the silly things problems you're dealing with and just soak in the goodness of it all).

''Love must be sincere, hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love.'' -Romans 12:9,10

''And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.'' -I Corinthians 13:13

''Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God.'' -I John 4:7

Mmmm- Love is God. And this doesn't JUST refer to the stomach-sensation type of love. In Slovene, there different expressions for romantic love and everything else. Ljubim te means I love you in a romantic sense. For a long time, I didn't know this and I left notes for my 'aunt' that were signed ''Ljubim te, Nicole''. I was, clearly, a little embarrassed when I realized I was telling her I was in love with her, but of course she understood my very obvious mistake. The term 'Imam te rada' literally means 'I like you', but is given to people that you care a lot about, but are not in love with.

Although having 2 words for love could have probably saved me from some awkward situations in my life...

Answering machine message to my apartment landlord a few years ago:
Hey Alex, it's Nicole from 602, I hope you're well... (probably 2 full minutes later... so anyway, I'll just put them under your door. Hope that's ok, call if there are any problems. Love you... (choking sounds when I realize I just told my landlord I loved him. Click)

...I am still glad that we only have one word for this... THING, because I do believe it is, in its finest and most beautiful form, God. However, it has many sides- loving your family is one facet of love, your friends another. Loving your landlord is another :) your children is another, and loving the poor is another, loving your enemies is another, and loving your 'lover' is another still.

My friends (and doctor, and students, and everyone, really) always ask me right away ''Kje živi fant??'' (Where does your boyfriend live??). Here or at home, I've always (ok- minus the 2% of my life where I had a boyfriend. Which was mostly in junior high) felt some pressure to defend myself for not having a boyfriend. I want to answer dramatically with ''We just broke up this morning, thanks'' or something more optimistic (''I'm sure I'll meet my future husband today'') or something true (''I don't have one... but Mr. Universe asked me to dance!''). I want to stop having conversations like this:
So, do you have a boyfriend?
-Nope
Well, you do LIKE men, don't you?
-Yes dad, yes I do

In truth, I may not have too much depth in the most celebrated facet of love, but I believe I am really lucky to have a vast existence within love itself. My life is RICH in love. I get to love people in different cultures. In different age groups, ethnicities, religions. I get to love enemies too right now :) And I feel oh-so-much love from my family who is 7 time zones away. Not gonna lie- still super excited for being in love (with someone who is actually in love with me too). I'm excited to learn more about this part of God that is also a part of me.

It's pretty funny to be surrounded by middle school kids on days like Valentine's day. I remember LOVING this day when I was a little girl... I would wake up a half an hour early and eat heart-shaped pancakes with mom and dad before school, then go to school where I would get a shit-ton of candy in my cereal-box-decorated-like-a-castle-or-something. I remember HATING V-day in middle school when I fretted over what sort of gift to get my boyfriend-of-the-month (really peaked in the 8th grade). Again, I liked Valentine's day in high school when we received the results of our ''love/compatibility'' test and my number one match (aside from Matt Gibson, who MOST of the girls in the school were paired with... Rachel G, you're one lucky duck) was Alan Schurle. The past few years I've been all over the spectrum, but mostly frustrated that a day exists when all of the single people all over the world remember that they're single.

This year? This year I am still annoyed that so much emphasis is placed on having a partner to love romantically, although I am PERSONALLY not putting this emphasis on myself. I have dreams in my life- and one, only one of them, is to carry out some of the others with a partner. I am intensely satisfied at the moment, pursing this bit of life that I think that I should pursue... and I am pretty sure (ok, hopeful) that the right man will pursue me when he's actually ready. But he won't be pursuing ME unless I am following my heart even if that leads me alone to crazy, foreign lands :)
This year, even in lieu of some guy picking flowers for me or standing outside of my castle playing 'In Your Eyes' on a boom box (never gets old), I'll celebrate the incredible vastness of love already packed into my life.

A very special person told me last week that I have a gift of bringing people together. I hope that this is true, and think that it is maybe because they feel some sort of love. The most beautiful part of this is that the group of people that has formed in the past couple of weeks has done so, in a sense, to take care of and love ME through my difficulties in school. It's amazing how taken care of I have felt by all people in my life. And not just here in Radovljica- it's pretty amazing to be loved from all around the world.

If I could, I would send you all flowers and candy, and stand outside of your windows blasting music and pretending to be John Cusack, but I do not have the time or money... so I made you this e-card instead. Hope that you like it.
Love you so.

Stara Jedilnica

Most of you have heard that things are not perfect at school- I have some stressful relationships that are really draining and some days I nearly give up. However, in the midst of the worst week yet, I was reminded that I am still cared for and that I can still serve a purpose even if it is not what I intended. That I MUST serve a purpose other than the ones intended, in fact.

Hopefully, a part of that purpose is to bring people together. I often talk about the beautiful community that I was (and am still) a part of in Lawrence. And how much I LONG to eat dinner here with people that I love. So we did. Last night we had a feast in dining room built in 1634. Fondue- 10 people came to eat cheese and chocolate fondue and, amazingly, every single person brought something different to the table.



Sometimes I really think that I must be the luckiest person in the entire world.

Fairytale: A story found in my last journal

Intoxicatingly beautiful. Every single woman there was breath-taking, and I was no exception. Looking down at the baby-blue dress and seeing the blonde curls fall against my tanned skin... I seemed to emit some sort of glow. No matter what, nobody could take this moment away. Somehow, I am not intimidated by the stunning women filing the dance floor around me. I see the moonlight bringing out their white teeth and big round eyes, and somehow I feel even more beautiful being in such company- I do not feel restrained by my regular fears and hesitancies, but rather only free; only excited; only a thrill running through my body and lighting up the color in my cheeks.

Something about this dance is important. I haven't yet decided what it is, but I understand that something about this dance has been learned all throughout my life- something about these moves have been practiced and formed from little on.

For the first time, I notice something beyond the other women there. Through the tall oak doors pass 50 men- equally well dressed and seemingly equally prepared for this dance. Or maybe even more so. I can see in their eyes that these moments are significant for them as well. Some look hungrily toward the women on the dance floor. Never in my life have I seen so many prepared men- utterly confident and eager. Wait- no, my eyes move from a stunning man in a mustard colored tie to the next man- a bit taller with dark hair and dark eyes, but what his beauty gives to his presence, his nerves take away. He seems slightly reluctant- but why? Is it not a choice to be here? Did not these young men choose their destiny as I have chosen mine? Or did I choose mine at all?

I do not have time to ponder this question: There is a long, deep note from the cello. It seems as though the dance is to begin. I look toward the confident man in the mustard tie and immediately blush! His eyes are on me and with a half smile, he nods and comes toward me on the shiny floor. I feel warmth spread through my whole body as he takes my hand in his and wordlessly tells me how to prepare for the first move. I can hear my heart beat and am wishing that the music starts before this strong and confident man notices that my heart is louder than the bass. And then in begins.

I am amazed. It seems as though I know how to do this dance somehow. It is in my body and I can feel it from my heart and also from the warm man moving me by a gentle pressure on my back. The first few moves are memories now, I am sure: Full and alive with ecstasy. I breathe deeply, taking it all in and falling more and more in love with the dancer. No! The dance, I think. And then he twirls me too far- I was not anticipating this. I lose my footing and also my confidence. How did I get here? Do I really know this dance in my heart? I second guess every move and become less and less comfortable with the mysteriously confident man. And then, all of a sudden, the dance is over.

What now? He reaches down to kiss my hand and is gone. Momentarily I panic- what if no one comes for the next dance? My worry nearly prevents me from glancing around, but my curiosity overcomes me and to my relief I find other pairs unhooking and moving alone- but not all of them. Some continue to dance, others move together away from the floor.

To my rescue comes a man I did not notice before. His eyes are the nicest shade of green I have ever seen and flecked with little specs of gold. He pulls me in with a nervous giggle-like laugh and I feel immediately comfortable. But does he? If not, this does not dissuade him from confidently leading. This dance has an even more jovial melody than the one preceding it. I feel light and move together with him in a playful, bouncy jaunt as the music becomes more and more adventurous. We are not perfect, we both try to anticipate and misjudge, but this leads to more giggling and excitement. I love this dance. But still it ends, and instead of holding onto this sparkley-eyed man's hand, I surrender as he moves toward another.

My empty hand stings- I look around but realize the risk of dancing again and stopping. The dance is so lovely and so free that I cannot help but feel lonely like never before now that the dance is over. A new song starts and I am still waiting in the middle of the room. Alone! I feel embarrassed and sad and hurry to the back of the room where I can wait outside of the center of attention.

It's a bit strange to watch the dance from the outside. Some pairs are almost intoxicating in the ways they move, but others are awkward and forced. My eyes are drawn to a pair taking glorious, wide strides around the room, circling everyone else. I am surprised to find that it-s the tall, dark man, leading a stunning gal in a long white dress. For some reason the dance makes me want to sing out in joy and yell out in something else.

I follow them jealously until my eyes fall on a gentle looking man also watching with a sad smile and without questioning, I move toward him. He is wearing an odd-fitting jacket that is closed in front. As I come closer, I see there is a tie peeking out- a baby blue tie.

I move in and he notices me with a questioning, but pleased glance. I am almost to his hand when he moves just in time to offer it to me and we, very slowly, inch toward the floor. His moves are gentle, but confident, when he holds me just by one hand. But this isn't enough! I want to move closer- so many more moves are accessible... yet still he holds me at a distance, and the music stops.

Surprised, I look down at his hand. He keeps holding mine but loosely enough that I wonder if he's contemplating letting me go. Moments are spent in this state and a new song begins. It is comfortable- I am delighted. Through the song I learn how to manipulate his lead- to draw him into me, and he does not back away. I am enthralled by the dance and find that there are beats of confidence but also floods of hesitation. Another song ends. Will he invite me back for another? Our moves are flawless unless we are close together. In the silence I unclench his warm hand. Will he reach for it? No. Without smiling I move away. Three steps and he is again in front of me. Shocked, I try to decide if I should go or stay. He moves forward and pulls me closer than previously... and then falls.

Perhaps no one else notices, but I am left alone and he will not let me help him up. Finally, I move far away, pulling my hair into a long braid- changing to separate myself from that strange and painful fall. I do not really understand, but it does not discourage me from the mysterious dance that perplexes me more and more as the evening continues.

It's quite strange- I think I see that for the first time. What is the point of all this? These beautiful things exist around me even outside of the ball, but this dance seems to make everything a little more charged. More exciting.

The evening proceeds. How long have we been here? Have I danced with all 50 men? Surely not. I glance around, looking for the man in the mustard tie. He is not there. For the first time, I realize that the people are changing. Some are leaving, others are entering. Men of all ages- I suppose that they have finally taken the road here.

I realize how much choice I have in choosing my partners and allow myself many dances- figuring out what it is that I need to dance the best, with the most joy. There is some great tension in between our hands. I must give some resistance, but feel confidence from him. Otherwise I take too much control and the dance no longer belongs to either of us.

I have all kids of dances and finally sit down to rest. Many women have left, many have arrived. Still I remain without a constant partner. My hands massage my shimmering and delicate legs and I pour over the nights events. Suddenly I feel the closeness of another and look up to find his eyes locked on mine. The partner that wouldn't get up from the fall. No. I do not dance.

I too experience a fall- as Cinderella must have felt... certainly my prince came and swept me off my feet. I did not have to think, but simply felt my body move. And Oh! How it moved! I leaped through the air, I dipped to the ground- was led to new places and felt like a princess... not even myself. I was carried and lifted until he was no longer there to catch me. I feel hard. Not as me though- I feel as Cinderella and could not find myself to pick up on the ground.

Pointless. This dance is pointless. I rush to the fountain and throw myself in. Wash off the shimmer, take down my hair, discard my shoes. Finally I hear a song that I can dance to myself and run to the floor where I have the confidence to dance alone. While I am lost in the music I am aware of nobody, but open my eyes to find that I am noticed by all. Timidly, most shy away. Couples part to watch my dance and let me through. Others gawk in awe, though not admiration... I am not bothered. With freedom, I continue to dance and playfully one main joins confidently while another runs alongside. The first is quickly bored, the second lifts me at my waist as I jump- straight up ballerina style... I am above the whole room! And certainly everyone can see my delight. I laugh as we spin. And finally he throws me into the air and I wait for hands that never come.

Dropped again. But this time I have bare-feet and can easily catch myself. I hardly stumble and start to run. I discover several others that are alone and broken, but together we make the most beautiful and lively group there. We dance together with so much freedom that we spread out in all directions. And I love this dance. What our brokenness could take away is somehow only making its beauty more incredible. And I guess it makes sense. And I guess it gives me hope. And I guess that I don't ever want this dance to end. It seems that I am the MOST myself in This dance. Or that the dance and I somehow seem to mutually depend on each other.

So I no longer feel a sting as the others move in some perfect waltz around the whole room- I appreciate it's beauty, but also appreciate that 3 count was never really my thing. We've got a new dance now, and it echos my heart more than the waltz ever did. And as I move I understand that many will come to add to the dance- whoever needs it like I do, whoever finds himself in the unpredictable moves. Who knows, perhaps there will even someday be a partner that can keep up :)

The View From Ajdna

Yesterday I went for a hike with my friend Ana. We drove about 15 minutes to the base, and climbed for 2 hours. You're looking at Triglav straight ahead (the tallest mt. in Slovenia). All of the snowy peaks you can see are part of the Julian Alps. The emerald river is called Sava Dolinka- it joins a second to form the Sava.

I like this.

Some things you do for money, some you do for love love love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qv3-vANWwcU

Yesterday I got up at 5:30- changed into my hiking clothes, drank some hot tea, packed a sandwich into my backpack and hit the road. I arrived 4 minutes late to the bus station, where I was the last person to board. It may seem amazing to you that I held up an entire bus by being 4 minutes late, but I should also clarify that I was the youngest person on the hiking expedition by about 30 years.

We rode the bus for 3 hours, stopping once for tea and toilets. I woke up a few times to see the sun rising over the hills, and eventually stayed awake as my friend Jože, the hiking instructor, told us the plan for the day.

Our plan? To go for a 4 hour hike through the snowy forests of Štajerska.


It took me a while to decide if I wanted to go on this hike or not- I really like the instructors, but I knew that I would be one of the youngest people, plus my health has not been the best lately (just a cold ma, nothing to worry about). However, when treading through the fluffy snow in the company of 35 Slovene retirees, my mind got caught up on some lyrics to a song that I couldn't remember, but now know to have been 'Love love love' by the Mountain Goats.

Do you know this song? I personally give this song an A++, and as a teacher, that obviously holds a lot of weight (also, noted that as a teacher, there is a very fine line in between what I do for money, and what I do for love).

From the title of the post, you might assume the song to be adorable- that the things you do for love are cute and sweet and perfect. This is not the case... rather the song expresses a complex reality where some painful actions ultimately lead to love, often in ways that we do not understand.

In a way, this song seems to relate to my life here (although it's, thankfully, not so painful). I don't really understand why I feel such an intense calling to be here. My life is more... simple I suppose. I like my job in theory, but in actuality I am ''working'' with a woman who is constantly against me. I am far away from many people that I love, who also love me. But reality is not so simple, is it?

Yesterday I trudged through the snow for 4 hours with 35 people aged 55-80 (seriously). I had a cold. My Raynaud's hands were killing me. I had nobody to dance the polka with at the veselica that followed... but even as I was hiking, a piece of my brain picked up on something that the rest got later.

Some things you do for money, and some you do for love love love.

Cinderella and the Glass Copat

In a splurge of something that might have been creativity (note: might also be called 'vanity', although I cannot speak for my co-writer and director who probably was always a bit more humble than I), JRog and I wrote and directed 2 fairytale spoofs in high school. The first was a lip-sync musical of 'Little Read Riding Hood' which made absolutely no sense anywhere except for in our heads. The second a comical rendition of Cinderella.

Last week I got the brilliant idea of tying to direct a play at school- in English. I cannot see how this could be anything short of amazing for the kids that participate: they would be memorizing lines (read: sentence structure) in English and also focusing on saying words, properly, aloud. Unfortunately, I don't know that I will get permission to carry this out.

Below is the, a-hem... MODIFIED version of Cinderella: A Story of Hope, which was written by Jessica Rogers and Nicole Schmidt 8 years ago, which was also, of course, modified by Disney from the Original- which was what, the Grimm Brothers? It is quite possible that it will not make any sense. Quite a lot of the humor depends on the acting and fluency of it all... but if you'd like to read and give me your feedback as to if I should fight for this, I'd be grateful.


Now... without further adieu, I give you: Cinderella and the Glass Copat (*Which, by the way, is a simple slipper in Slovene... basically a sole and flap of fabric over the front half of the foot).

CINDERELLA AND THE GLASS COPAT (Slipper in Slovene)

Narrator: Everyone has heard the nice fairytale of Cinderella. Some sweet, beautiful girl lives with her evil-step mother and step-sisters who try to make her life horrible. However, she is magically is saved by her fairy godmother, Prince Charming falls in love with her, loses her at midnight, but then finds her by her glass slipper, and everyone lives happily ever after. Blah blah blah blah. Now, I’m not saying that I don’t believe in magic fairytale endings, but maybe things don’t always turn out like the story you all know.

Now I’m here at Osnovna Šola Antone Tomaža Linharta to tell you the real story of what happened to Cinderella and Prince Charming, otherwise known as Greg. He really was the typical prince charming. Kind, talented, attractive. He could lift 500 kilos with one arm, tame wild beasts, dance with the grace and beauty of a swan. Every girl in the kingdom was in love with him. Every boy wanted to be like him. Every mother wanted their son to grow up just the same. Only he was so modest that he had no idea…

Prince Greg’s father was a good King, but was terribly old and would croak any day now. The time had come for Prince Greg to take over the throne, but he couldn’t do so without first finding a woman to be his bride. His best friend, Eric, has come to the rescue.

Scene 1 (The prince and Eric are playing Rock, paper, scissors. The prince loses)

Eric…………………………………Haha- What up, dude!!! Now you have to have a ball!
Narrator.........................Oh yeah, the prince's best friend is kind of... well, you'll see
Prince Greg.....................I can't, Eric. You cannot really make me go through with this! I'm not ready, my friend.
Eric..................................You HAVE to. Your dad's getting old and really, any day now he might just (makes sound and motions death)
Greg................................Eric!
Eric..................................But really, you're the prince of Slovenia. You have to find a bride. It's the law.
Greg................................. I know, I know, it's just (sigh). What girl would ever want me?
(Eric moves to open the window. Screaming girls shouting 'We love you!' are muffled from outside)
Greg................................Ok, look. I'll have a ball- a dance for all of the girls in the kingdom, but I cannot promise that I'll find a bride.

Narrator..........................So they got to work, planning the party. It was to be a real ball- where every woman in the kingdom would come and dance with the prince, at at the end, he would find someone to be his bride and become the Queen of Slovenia. Every woman who received an invitation immediately began to get ready for the party. They did their hair, their make-up, bought expensive dresses and fancy shoes. Well, almost everyone... everyone except...

Scene 2
Evil step-mother.............Cinderella! Where are you, you nasty little twerp?!
Cinderella........................(arrives, looking tired and dirty) I am here, step-mother. I was just outside, finishing the jobs that you gave me.
Evil step-mother.............All of them?
Cinderella........................Yes, this morning I painted the house, mowed the lawn, fed the animals, milked the cows, washed the car and did your taxes. I'm just finishing cooking lunch and the potica is in the oven. Now can I get ready for the ball?
Evil step-mother.............Why yes of course... There's just one more thing. (calls off-stage) Chloe, Jennifer! Will you bring the clothes for Cinderella to iron.
(Two girls enter in fancy, ball-clothes. They are arguing about silly things, like who looks prettier in pink and which girl the prince will like better).
Evil..................................Oh darlings! Look at you! The prince will never be able to choose between you! And did you finish the talents you prepared, to show him how wonderful you are?
Jennifer...........................Of course (Chloe plays the recorder while Jennifer dances- Chloe makes a mistake and Jennifer gets angry). Chloe! You are stupid, why would the prince ever want to marry a stupid girl like you???
Chloe..............................I'm not stupid. You are! ( They end up fighting and pulling each others hair)
Evil..................................Girls... GIRLS! Remember your manners for the prince! Now,where are the clothes for Cinderella?
Chloe..............................WHAT?! Cinderella gets clothes?? I thought you said you were going to give her so much laundry that she had to stay home and iron- (Evil step-mother coughs to interrupt)
Evil..................................Where are the clothes for Cinderella to iron?
Jennifer..........................We'll go get them (Step-sisters leave)
Evil..................................Yes, Cinderella- there are just a few (A enormous bag of clothes is pulled into the room by Chloe) items here, as you can see (From offstage, Jennifer throws in several more handfulls). Just as soon as you finish them (One more shirt is thrown in), you can get ready for the ball.
Cinderella.......................But stepmother! I will never finish this before the party!
Evil..................................No? Well you won't with that attitude, now will you? Come on girls, our car awaits!
(Step-mother and step-sisters leave. Cinderella sits sadly in the middle of the lanudry. She sees a little bird)
Cinderella........................Oh little bird- I wish I could go to the ball! I wish, oh I wish... (bursts into tears)

(music starts to play- music from The Godfather The fairy-Godfather enters)

Godfather.......................What is it?
Cinderella.......................(Looks up, startled) Who... who are you??
Godfather.......................Who do you think I am? Prince Charming? Naw- I'm your fairy Godfather. Now, you gotta ball to get to, or what?
Cinderella........................Yes, but- I have all of this laundry to do--- and nothing to wear!
Godfather........................Honey, let's just say your fairy godfather's gonna take care of everything... A-hem: Salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo Put 'em together and what have you got bibbidi-bobbidi-boo (points a wand at his briefcase. Pulls out a stack of folded laundry and a bag for Cinderella. She eagerly looks inside)
Cinderella……………………...Oh Godfather (pulls out a dress). It’s beautiful! But what are these? (Pulls out a pair of copati) Aren’t I supposed to wear shoes?
Godfather……………………..Huh? Those are your glass slippers- wadda you want? High heels? They’re healthier!
Cinderella……………………..Ok- well. Thanks.
Godfather…………………….No problem. Now watta you waitin for? I’ve got a limo waiting out front. Get dressed- let’s go! (Cinderella leaves- godfather calls out to her) Oh! And before I forget- you’ve GOT to get back by midnight. Let’s just say the car’s got some places to go.

Scene 3

Narrator………………………..So Cinderella was able to go to the ball. She gave her fairy-godfather an awkward hug, put on her dress while her godfather ironed the rest of the laundry, and they left for the limo… which was not a limo. In fact, it was a hearse (one of those cars that dead people are driven around in)… but what else can you expect from a fairy-godfather?

At the prince’s house, the party was off to an interesting start. The prince declared that he would dance with each maiden one time and one time only. Girls arrived by the thousands… Each tried to get more than their fair share of time with the Prince. Some ladies were clearly too old. Some much too young. However, most of the girls were just not a good fit.

(The prince dances with Chloe)
Chloe…………………………….So what’s it like to be the prince of Slovakia?
(The prince trades Chloe for Jennifer)
Jennifer………………………..My sister and I have prepared our talent for you. I know you’re going to love it. But just know, I have so many other talents too… I can cook, I can shop for a really long time, I can-
Prince……………………………You know, I’m getting quite hungry- I think that I’m just going to go grab something to eat.
(Prince walks over to the food bar where Eric is attempting to catch grapes in his mouth)
Eric………………………………..DUDE!!!!! How great is this party? These girls are SMOKING HOT!
Prince……………………………These girls are (sighs) not for me. I’ll never find a bride- look around.
Eric.................................Come on, there must be someone you want to dance with!
(At that moment, one of the bored guests starts to tap on the table in a melodic rhythm. This spreads- people everywhere are making nose and it ends up in a miraculous STOMP. Cinderella walks in and everyone stops).
Greg................................OH DANG!
Prince..............................Her, her. I want to dance with her.
(Prince walks to Cinderella and sweeps her into a magical polka. The step-family looks really angry.)

Jennifer...........................What's SHE doing here?!
Chloe...............................Who? Oh, yeah! Well, the prince will never want someone like HER.
Jennifer...........................It LOOKS like the prince likes her just fine
Evil..................................Girls, we'll handle this if it's the last thing I do.

Narrator..........................And the party continued like this. The prince danced with Cinderella while the other girls were ignored. It seemed as though they were falling in love when...
(Clock strikes 12)
Cinderella........................Oh! Midnight already! Oh my, I have to go!
(She runs out)
Prince..............................Wait! But I don't even know your name!!!

(Silence. Eric comes over to consult the prince)
Eric..................................Dude- Great party man! Who was that chick?
Prince.............................I don't know. Surely I've never seen her before. And now I'll never see her again.
Eric.................................Naw- course you will. What's that?!
(One of Cinderella's slippers is thrown back onto stage)
Prince.............................Ah! Her shoe! It must have fallen off as she ran out. Eric! We will find her indeed!

Scene 4
Narrator.........................And thus began the search for Cinderella. The very next morning, the Prince and Eric began to visit every single house in the city in search for Cinderella. The prince took all of the houses on the West side, Eric on the East. House after house they visited, but no woman fit into the glass slipper. Meanwhile, Cinderella began her regular life again, doing all of the work for her awful step-other and evil step sisters.
Evil step-mother.............You really made a fool of yourself at the ball last night.
Chloe..............................Yeah!
Cinderella.......................What makes you say that?
Jennifer..........................Ug- everything. The way that you were dancing with the prince, that horrible dress you were wearing. Your face.
Cinderella.......................I thought I was fine.
(Cinderella resumes cleaning. There is a knock at the door.)
Evil..................................Who is it?
Voice of Eric....................It is Eric, the royal best friend. I am here by order of Prince Greg to have every girl in this kingdom try on the royal copat. The prince's bride lost it when she left the party last night.
Evil...................................Oh! I'll be right there. (More quietly- to Cinderella). Cinderella- get in the closet.
Cinderella........................But stepmother- I... (Cinderella is pushed into the closet. Chloe opens the door).
Eric..................................What up????
Jennifer...........................Oh, my slipper! You found it! Thanks, I'll just put it on- don't know where the other one went... oh- it fit last night it's so strange that it isn't fitting now...
Chloe...............................That's because it's mine. I'll take it and... boo. What happened? You must have shrunk it.
Evil step-mother.............Don't be silly dear- nobody could have done such a thing. After all, I think that it's mine-
Jennifer...........................Mom!
Evil step-mother.............Oh hush up, it's not like the prince is that young.
Eric..................................I think that the copat did not belong to any of you ladies, so I really need to be going-
(There is a noise from the closet that is hiding Cinderella)

Eric.................................What was that?
Evil-stepmother.............Oh nothing- it's just our pet!
(Even larger noise from the closet)
Eric.................................THAT is from a pet?
Evil-stepmother..............Well, it's a rather big pet- a Gorilla in fact...
Eric..................................I'll just open the-
(Evil step-mother jumps in front of the door)
Evil stepmother...............You can't it will--- (Eric opens the door. Cinderella jumps out)
Eric..................................Oh hey! Do you want to try on the slipper?
Cinderella........................Of course (Everyone gasps as the slipper fits perfectly. Eric bows)
Eric...................................Your highness- it fits perfectly!
Cinderella.........................Itak- it's my copat.
Eric...................................I must take you directly to the prince.

Scene 5
Narrator...........................And so he did. Eric and Cinderella walked together through the town all the way back to the castle. It was a long walk, but they found that they got along quite well. Perhaps better than any two people had ever gotten along before. Finally, they arrived to the room where the prince was nervously pacing around, waiting for Eric to return.
(Eric and Cinderella enter arm in arm, laughing at a joke Eric is telling)
Greg................................(gasp) Eric! You found her! Oh my beautiful, wonderful girl. I cannot believe that you are with me here again! (Turns to speak monologue to the audience. As he speaks, Eric and Cinderella get closer and closer in the background). Before I met you, my world was nothing special. Ok, yeah, I'm the prince of a country, I'm talented, funny, and smart- but days were just days. Last night, I felt like I lived for the very first time. And now, everywhere I go I see signs of you- It's like beauty is taking over the world world- seeping out of every corner... covering every empty space. And now- I ask you, wonderful girl. Will you marry me?
Cinderella.......................Oh! Wow- that is so... so sweet. Only- I don't think of you like that. I think of you more as a... a big brother!
Greg................................(In shock). Oh. So you won't marry me?
Cinderella.......................mmmm, yeah- not I don't think so.
Greg................................But- is there someone else?
Cinderella.......................Actually, yeah. (Turns to Eric). What do you say?
Eric..................................Let's go grab a pizza?
Cinderella........................Deal.


ENDING TO BE DETERMINED
(open to suggestions!)