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Two thousand ten was a lot of things for me. I had wanted to write this up in January, but alas, time and life does not wait for me to catch up- I merely tow along and smile out the window as we drive by hours upon days and weeks. But here I am, in February 2011, like the last month of the new year was a blink. And here I am, just a month into the new year and I’m already reminiscing about the one that past.
It was late December 2009. I was buying my staple groceries at Trader Joe’s when the cashier, the one with the mocha eyes asked me how the holidays were going for me, about my plans for 2010. He probably asked a lot of people this question and they probably all replied with innocuous non-offensive answers.
I looked him straight in his dreamy eyes and said, “Let’s just say I wish it were 2011 already.”
That’s how bad it was, I wanted an entire year to just vanish because I couldn’t bear to see what it would bring me since I had been twisting my way downwards since I returned to the US in the summer of 2009. Worse yet, I had pretty much eliminated any chances I had of ever summoning up the courage of asking out the cute cashier.
2010 didn’t occur in a time vacuum, free of my existence. It happened, and in fact, I’m better for it. There were small victories and big milestones between my friends, family and myself. Things to be celebrated and remembered and grateful for:
- I won a year supply of nut butter from Maranatha.
- Joni got into John Hopkins University’s nursing and midwivery program.
- Alan got a job in NYC, and even has an apartment in the city that he can afford.
- I fell in love. He’s a chocolatier.
- I surprised my mom for Mother’s Day with unexpected visit.
- I ate a lot of sushi.
- May gave birth to Amelia.
- Gus and Marah opened their food cart, Awesome Cone
- I started taking a writing course and will learn how to letter press, book-binding and book arts.
- Jack, the chocolatier’s dog, and I have become very good friends.
- I became a better maker of things.
- The chocolatier and I road tripped to California. It was the first time I had brought a boyfriend home.
- I turned thirty.
- My mom became manager of two restaurants.
- Anna and the chocolatier had their hand-made goodies picked up by a local chain supermarket.
- I finished a small business course and can now put together a profit and loss projection statement.
- The chocolatier and I watched all the seasons of The Mighty Boosh.
- I got a job working for an organization that I believe in and does amazing work for progressive causes. I love that I can say that I work toward social justice.
Though only 31 days have passed in 2011, I can already feel that it will be even better for me than 2010. Here’s to the new year and remembering the ones that have passed.
This was originally posted late August of 2008, but I thought this bears repeating so here it is again.
Reminders for myself and others:
- Turn off your lights. It doesn’t take very much of your time or energy, just mindfulness, to save vast amounts of energy.
-Wash your face daily. Especially if you live somewhere, be it Los Angeles or Changsha, Hunan or Chittagong, where soot and grime mix freely with polluted air to land on your precious skin.
- Re-use shopping bags. Again, one of those no-brainers that takes no real effort.
- Drink lots of water. Or coffee.
- Never charge more than you can pay back in each billing cycle. It’s tempting to simply swipe the card and worry about paying it back later, but a 19.99% APR ain’t no joke!
- We’re all hypocrites. Some just better at it than others.
- Stretch. Keeps you flexible and agile for your secret ninja lifestyle.
- Clean up after yourself. Didn’t we learn this in kindergarten?
- Recognize privilege. Class, race, gender, ethnicity, nationality, history.
- Righty tighty, lefty loosey. One of life’s many secrets.
- Eat everything on your plate. You’re a big kid who’s probably pretty adept at gauging what you like and will eat, so if you’ve scooped it onto your plate it shouldn’t end up in the garbage bin.
- Sit up straight. Slouching is so unbecoming.
- Accessorize. The devil is in the details.
- Say thank you. Westerners are sometimes accused of saying ‘thank you’ too often and for unnecessary reasons. If I’m gonna be accused of anything, I’ll take this one.
- Know-it-alls only really know how to say “I know.” But they have trouble listening.
- Moisturize and use sunblock. Take care of your skin, its our largest organ.
– Don’t shove and apologize if you bump into someone. There’s something about overpopulated developing nations (Hello China y Bangladesh!) where manners seem frivolous.
- Know when to be critical and when to bite your tongue. And if you’re one to criticize, don’t get butt hurt if others return the favor. You’ve gotta be able to take it if you’re gonna dish it.
- Wipe front to back. It’s more hygienic that way. This one’s for the ladies.
- Get enough sleep. This reminder is for me (thanks Giulia!).
Sometimes I think about how the vast majority of the world does not have this, it’s kind of mind-blowing how we take its convenience for granted.
45. Clothes dryer. The evolution of the clothesline has come a long way.
More: Counting: The Little Things
It’s been a whole year since I’ve returned from Bangladesh, and I still find myself marveling at all the little things that I continue to not take for granted.
When I originally moved to Portland in 2005, I sold my trusty Toyota Corolla to my parents at a time when they needed another vehicle (baby brother needed a car to go to college). I biked and bussed everywhere, quickly forgetting the convenience of/cursing the burden of car ownership. Biking in Portland year-round can be unkind, but I wore my soggy clothes as badges of my PDX hazing ritual. I timed routines and errands to match the bus timetable and routes. My brain formed an unofficial Portland creed, and I was abiding by it beautifully.
Then I went and lived in the subcontinent for 18 months. When I returned last summer, I found my teeth chattering after a night bike-ride in July. By late December, my uncomfortably cold booty was nestled into the driver’s seat of my old trusty Toyota and I haven’t looked back since.
Therefore, I present to you the ways in which I appreciate the automobile.
39. Take a moment to consider how there are cultures where women aren’t allowed show their hair. And here I am owning and operating a two-ton machine with the windows down and my hair whipping wildly across my face.
40. Freedom of movement, baby. I’ve been on enough 15-hour slow, rickety bus journeys to fully understand how sweet it is to just go whenever I want.
41. Going up a steep hill without exerting more energy than merely gently pressing down on a plastic pedal. Wow, technology.
42. It takes half the time to get anywhere.
43. NPR during the commute.
44. Yes, gasoline is very expensive. Yes, the environment could do without my carbon footprint. Yes, I know what’s happening in the Gulf of Mexico. Even so, I’m a responsible, conscientious car owner, bike rider and citizen. Also, my folks came to America for opportunities like this, you wouldn’t want me to disappoint them (more) now would you?
More: Counting: The Little Things
I’m slowly starting to appreciate Portland, Oregon again, and it’s so easy to fall in love with this city. This is the first spring that I’ve spent in America since 2006, that’s three years of missing springtime in America!
These are the reasons how this new season back has been good to me:
27. Rainbows at 8:30 PM
28. Chai and soy lattes from friends at my every whim.
29. Blossoms.
30. Four-hour night bike ride from SE to N and back- and not a drop of rain.
31. Cheap sushi, veggie pho in beef broth, soy chorizo or curry and cauliflower burritos.
32. Awesome luck with vintage loafers at thrift stores.
33. Craft culture. Hand-made revolution.
34. “Free box” culture.
35. Berries! Oranges! Chinook salmon!
36. Patio lunchies and back yard picnics.
37. All of the hours of sunlight.
38. The chocolatier boyfriend.
More: Counting: The Little Things
March is Women’s History Month. March is also National Caffeine Awareness month and National Athletic Training month, which kinda cheapens the notion of recognizing the achievements of women for an entire month when it’s celebrated alongside the importance of stretching for maximum athletic performance.
We, as a country, ain’t perfect, but we’re trying.
Although America is no beacon of egalitarianism, it’s still relatively easier to live as a woman in the U.S. than in other places because:
12. I can laugh loudly.
13. I can wear clothing that does not cover my shoulders or my ankles.
14. I can go bra-less and wear a tank top and cut-off shorts.
15. I can get drunk.
16. I can have opinions.
17. I can share my opinions freely.
18. I can disagree and argue with men.
19. I can look men in the eye.
20. I can tell men to “Fuck off.”
21. I can cuss.
22. I can make my own decisions.
23. I can not say anything if I don’t feel like it.
24. I can walk outside alone at noon and at midnight.
25. I can tell my father that he is wrong and still love and respect him.
26. I can own property.
More: Counting: The Little Things
In the realm of things we take for granted, we seldom acknowledge the noise and sounds (and lack thereof) around us.
8. I can hear the sound of my own breath while I am sleeping. This may seem silly until you consider the massive amount of noise pollution in so many developing countries. Endless blasts of car horns, engines rumbling, pounding of metal, circular saws screeching, merchants shouting, the chorus of rusty bicycle bells. A week after I returned to Portland, I was taking a mid-afternoon nap and was startled awake by the sound of my own breathing because I had not heard it for so long.
9. Regardless of the time of day, I do not have to strain to hear the sound of the wind. While in Chittagong, there was quiet sometime after midnight and before sunrise, but there was always the persistent white noise of a fan whirling.
10. I do not have to strain to hear wind blowing through trees and the waves of rustling leaves.
11. There are trees.
More: Counting: The Little Things
In my ongoing effort to remain positive, I’m gonna be counting all the little things that make everything around me exceedingly beautiful and we’ll see how many things we ought to be grateful for but take for granted.
Let us begin with water.
1. Hot showers. Even after being home for eight months, I still marvel at how soothing and wonderfully comforting a hot shower is. I still think about how lucky I am to stand beneath the soft beat of a shower head while it’s gushing hot water. And all I have to do is to turn a knob. Which brings me to…
2. All I have to do is to turn a knob and there will be water.
3. I can drink from the tap.
4. I can brush my teeth from the tap.
5. The tap has cold and hot water.
6. Public water fountains. Desegregated.
7. Toilets. That flush on their own, or just by pressing a tiny lever.
More on its way: Counting: The Little Things
