It's How You Get There

Violence is never the answer but sometimes, like with cockroaches, it is the only possible response. Tanya Huff If you've read the title, and it made you squirm, this post may not be for you. I'll still love you, I won't even know you didn't, and since you clicked on the link, I've already got the click count so feel free to move on to a bug free realm.  For those of you who have stuck around, LET ME TELL YOU. I've become a ninja. My powers of observation have tripled. I know the black spots in my apartment intimately , and if there's a new spot, I have a swath of toilet paper or my Squisher Swiffer (a repurposed floor mop) in a matter of seconds.  My "Sweet Home" fans (all two of you) know how I'm vibing. Before you go "But Shayla, there's poison for those!", I've got my passive defense too. I have two different types of roach bait, some roach spray, and a Borax/sugar mix that I keep under the sink and sprinkle in the garbage...

 It's amazing to me how somethings as basic as the toilet and restrooms can have so many different variations. I mean, thankfully they have toiles here (never anything I worried about, but am grateful for), but it's not always the same, friends.  My apartment is definitely no Hilton by any means, and T Teacher sniffs whenever I talk about it and he frequently tells me I could be doing better (considering his new apartment has an actual bedroom and no roaches, he thinks it makes him an authority on these things). Many bathrooms, especially in budget housing, are wet rooms - a toilet and shower head with a tub spout sticking out of the wall, no sink and no shower curtain. Initially this took a little bit of getting used to, and deciding between the spout to wash my hands or the kitchen sink is something I still struggle with. I hadn't realized how accustomed I was to my setup until I had a couple friends over, and one was like "Sis, you don't have a sink in your bath...

“Memories of childhood were the dreams that stayed with you after you woke.” ― Julian Barnes, England, England Sometimes when you lay in bed with the clear intent to sleep early, moments come that change all of your plans. Granted, the two hour nap I took earlier today may have something to do with that, but sometimes my mind isn't done with me. Tonight it felt like a fairly strong combination of the two. Thoughts flooded my mind, and I found myself almost reliving memories from when I was younger, my sense flooding with sights and sounds that seem almost ancient now.  Most, if not all, off these memories take place in a small apartment where we lived in Virginia for several years as Dad finished his doctorate degree and then started working. My memory is a little hazy, and we moved back in forth there, so these memories are all a mixed jumble of events.  I remember running through the apartment from one side to the other, little brother tearing along behind me. That room was ...

“Employers babysit parents while their children are at school.” ― Mokokoma Mokhonoana 10 Laws of Kindergarten Homeroom 1. If you can't be silly you're not going to make it.  2. There's no point in guarding your dignity - they'll give it back when they're done with it.   3. Cute and pretty are NOT interchangeable, suggesting otherwise is a punishable offense.  4. Washing hands is optional, holding hands is not.  5. Unicorns are animals, just like everyone else.  6. Purple is the supreme color, unless you can choose pink. Then always choose pink.  7. You can't copy someone else's drawing unless it's already been telepathically agreed on by everyone beforehand. If you missed the meeting that's just too bad.  8. Skirts make you pretty. Dresses make you Elsa.  9. If you can't do "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" at the speed of light you are the weakest link.  10. You date who they tell you to. Even if it's a king who predates the discov...

"The limits of my language mean the limits of my world." Ludwig Wittgenstein Today I flexed my new Korean skills and told my friends that (and I quote) the "stomach skin called me". What I meant  to say, was "I called my family", but both the friends I was messaging and google translate assured me that was not what actually happened.  Welcome to the perils of language learning.   Before coming to Korea I knew that some people would likely speak English, and that I would be spending most of my days in English due to work. I didn't realize though how much all of the other time would be in English too. I was talking with my Dad today, and he said that he was realizing how different my "immersion" experience was compared to his. Both of my parents served missions for our church in different countries, Mom in Guatemala and Dad in Argentina. When Dad was there by about 6 months in he felt he had a decent mastery of the language and could express hi...

“The soul is healed by being with children.”   — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Russian novelist and philosopher My kids are trying hard to steal my heart and I think it's working.  A couple weeks ago I was going through a little bit of homesickness/after graduation crisis, and maybe the littles could tell. I try hard to keep that separate from work, since my mood does a lot to set the tone for how the day goes for them, but kids are incredibly intuitive. There is a lot they don't miss. So maybe I fooled them, but they're smarter than I am, so probably not. What amazes me though are which kids initially reach out. In Sun Class (older kindergarten) we have Dani who is a feisty little thing with a big attitude. Her dad also brings her to school on his motorcycle, and let me tell you, I didn't believe it the first time she told me. Then I saw it. Her dad doesn't match our Harley biker stereotypes, but to say he isn't super cool pulling into that parking lot with her tucked be...

“Oogway: There are no accidents. Shifu: [sighs] Yes, I know. You've already said that twice. Oogway: That was no accident either. Shifu: Thrice.” ― Kung Fu Panda I cried in church today.  I woke up to Sunday like I regularly do, put on my makeup like I regularly do, walked into church five minutes before it starts like I regularly do, and sat in my seat like I usually do, and cried.  It wasn't a loud cry, that was saved for the video call with my parents when I got home. It was the gentle welling where only a tear or two escapes, but knowing it's only one "are you ok, dearie?" away from exploding into a miniature representation of Old Faithful.  The week was a bit of an emotional one. Perhaps it was a delayed onset of culture shock, or maybe my erratic sleep schedule had started to catch up with me, but I was closer to my emotions than I have been in a while. A large part of it has been I have slowly felt myself slipping in key behaviors that generally keep me afl...