The "ME" Year

So, I am finally back from my month on the road, home in my snug little flat in one of the nicer southern suburbs of Athens. The season is over, for me, at least, and I'm ready, as ready as I can be, to finally take this show on the road... Let the "ME" year begin!

The last couple of weeks have been, surprisingly, very productive (if productive is the right word to use here). I have actually managed to move on with both the "going on 30" and "ultimate" bucket lists, taking giant leaps and small steps at once, and life is goooooood.

First and foremost, the complicated relationship situation is finally resolved (although it actually resolved itself, in a way). I am single now, and all better for it. After three years of giving and giving (or, more accurate, giving up and giving up pieces of me and my life), the push came to shove and I was dumped...

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter or anything, the moment I found out (turning on Facebook and seeing I'm single, one morning), I felt relieved.

I have been contemplating the future of this relationship for months now, especially since it kept on failing to fulfill one of the most basic and fundamental purposes of pairing up with another fellow primate of the given species (besides procreation): sharing available resources, manpower, abilities and skills in order to increase chance of survival in the hard, cruel and ever changing world we live in.

I have to admit, my feelings are little bruised, since I do feel that I was discarded like an accessory, soon to be replaced by another, more fitting model, but c'est la vie, that's just ego talking.

To be fair, I still feel that I've got enough out of this experience, although not the way I expected. All the numerous small and big lessons, learning a lot about myself along the way, are priceless. This I say without any trace of irony.

As an afterthought, with just a pinch of bitterness, I'll say this. My dear friends, girls and guys alike, beware an insecure man! 

On a side note, referring to my ultimate bucket list, I have shaved my head, the very first time in my life and I love it. Of course, when I saw myself in the mirror right after, I realized I might resemble a concentration camp survivor, but hell, now I'm used to it, ladies and gentlemen, I'm HOT ;)

You can see that at least my ego didn't shrink...

Getting There...

Last couple of months has been somewhat hectic, and having to deal with tons of other things, professional and personal, I took a bit of a break from writing (or at least blogging, to be more specific, see below...).

My students and their exams, touring around Greece and Italy, trying to figure out what to do about my strange and confusing relationship... all of these things kinda got in a way of writing about my life, although I guess it's a good thing I actually have a life that gets in a way of being written about, right?

Well, do not despair, my faithful readers, all 8 of you, because although you were not being regularly updated, I did not procrastinate - at least not as much as I usually do. I keep on working on ways how to reinvent myself and get my act together, thus I will provide you with a short list of some semi-achievements...

I've started working out, few months back, in the rhythm of Zumba. I used to dance back in the day, so I thought this would be an easy way how to get back in shape. Shows how much I know. I've lasted about a week, but in my defense, it's hard to stick to a routine, when you spend every other week on a bus with bunch of tourists. Obviously, Zumba is not the way, at least for me... On the bright side, I have actually started working out again, later on, weights and push ups and what not, and I'm happy to report that at this very moment, as a result,  I feel really sore all over. I have one more tour ahead, one more week on the road, and then it will hopefully be much easier to keep pushing myself.

Relationship and housing-wise, I've attempted several times to have a meaningful, constructive and productive conversation with my other half, regarding our future, goals and last, but not the least, financial situation, but alas, we have not come to a mutual understanding, consensus, if you will, and so these days (read: weeks to months) I am contemplating the future from variety of different angles, one of them as being single...

Now, the really good news is that I've started working on a novel, the concept of which I'm fairly excited about and so far the reviews from the people I've presented it to were good, so hey... Being fairly certain that my critics are not the kind of folk who'd try to make me feel better by hiding their opinion makes me feel like the book might not be a lost cause (though it still needs an unbelievable amount of work) and for the time being, I'm content with that. Once again, after the last tour of the summer is over, I intent to devote all of my time to working on it.

All in all, although I can't present you with any concrete accomplishments at this very moment, I'm actually quite satisfied with the way things are going, or, to put it as a proactive person I want to be when I grow up should, the way I'm making them go...

So yeah, I'm getting there...

I Blame It On The Fairy Tales

I haven't been writing much, I know. The truth is, besides being busy with work (thank god), lately I haven't really been able to see the bright side of life. I'm not a pessimist, nor do I suffer from depression, it's just that sometimes, not very often, the "Dark Jake" takes over and then I'm more on the introverted side... C'est la vie :)

The good thing is, while I don't post here, I take notes on everything that crosses my mind, so at this point there's a nice long list in my phone with topics that (hopefully) soon will populate my blog...

Anyway, here's one right now:

Remember when you were a kid and your parents used to read you fairy tales? How simple was your life then, right? You were listening to fables from faraway lands, full of adventure and magnificent victories, and most of the time the morale of the story was very simple: when life brings obstacles in your way, all you have to do is get off your ass, make a wish (or, optionally, be polite to people who you meet on the way, in case they can make your wish come true) and eventually, without much effort (and with help of a magical artifact or two) you would reach your goal, achieve your dreams and live happily ever after...

People who write fairy tales like that should be shot. They fill your head with unrealistic ideas about how simple life can be if only you want to.

I think I'm not the only one who grew up into life of bitterness and disappointment, solely due to the realization things just don't work like that.

I'm seriously considering rewriting some of the classic stories of our childhood. The educational value needs to be refitted for the needs of our era. Luck, wishes and happy endings are great, but what about hard work? What about trying and trying and still failing miserably? What about slowly and painfully working your way up and facing the cruel fact that you might not be good at what you do, you've chosen the wrong road to travel along, you might have to reinvent yourself and begin from scratch again?

And don't even let me start on perfect love, prince Charming and living "happily ever after", without any trials that normal relationships bring, without the problems that arise when two people want different things and have different expectations (A friend of mine has this whole neat theory about Mr. Right. She divides men into Mr. Right Enough and Mr. Right Now, good for her).

Anyway, all these miraculous concepts polluted our minds, our fragile souls of childhood were forever blackened and tarnished by the notion of effortless future.

So, the fairytale I wish someone had read to me when I was the age when listening to fairy tales before falling into the sweet embrace of sleep was acceptable, goes something like this: 

"Once upon a time there was a boy called ...(use a name of your choice) and one day he's left his old mother's house (but he still kept in touch, because family is important, no matter what mistakes our parents might have made raising us) and decided to travel the world until he'd find his fortune. He travelled across the land, crossing rivers and forests and mountains, meeting all kinds of people, gathering experience and learning about life in general, until, after a lot of searching, he found a place he liked and decided to settle down.

He became a ... (once again, fill in the profession of your choice), because in his life he tried many things and now he knew this was what he'd like to do for the rest of his life (or at least for the time being). He started working hard on his skills, slowly but surely becoming better and better, mastering his profession. He had a couple of unsuccessful relationships, and one day, after few years of being single (and it's OK to be single, being with someone should not be an ultimate goal of one's life, romantic relationships are not the only relationships out there, friendship is equally important) he's met a person (I'm trying to be politically correct here) that he kinda liked.

They went out few times, the chemistry was good, they had similar interests and sense of humor (which always helps) and after few months they moved in together, and they lived relatively happily (with some both minor and major ups and downs, because that's how relationships work) until one of them died and the other followed soon after (see, you can't say I'm not at least a little bit romantic)."

This is the kind of bedtime story, in a nutshell, that might have made my life a whole lot easier to manage, comprehend and live.

The End

Endorphin Crash

First of all, I feel I should explain the reason why I haven't published anything in last couple of weeks.

Couple of days ago I've returned from a week long tour of Greece and Italy. During the spring and summer I work in tourism (not sure what's the part time job here, teaching or this?), and on this particular tour I was lucky enough to travel with few like minded individuals and their offsprings.

Just so you get an idea, doing this job basically means I get to sleep some 5-6 hours a day and for the rest of time I deal with all those little things that might happen when a big group of people travels places that don't follow the same rules they know from wherever they come from (I'm talking about things getting stolen and broken, events being missed, transportation and accomodation overbooked or in bad condition, people getting lost etc. - I basically do damage control - and prevention, whenever that's possible).

I have to say, as this group was randomly assigned to me, I couldn't wish for more. We instantly clicked, the chemistry was great, we could talk about anything from things mundane to art and current affairs, and during this week I felt, after quite some time, fulfilled and presented with just enough challenges to make my life once again interesting without making it too stressfull. A perfect combo (I really hope they've enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed theirs).

Truth is, besides all the intellectual stimulation, I haven't laughed like I did on this tour in ages. I swear, the level of endorphin in my blood went through the roof, my cheeks and abs were literally hurting for few days after the tour was over.

Alas, all good things come to an end.

I got back to Athens, back to my ("more") normal life and that's where the problem lies. I have nothing to do....

No challenges to face, to problems to solve. For the past few days my biggest mental effort was how to spend the time between waking up, occasional meals and hitting the sack. So far I've watched the whole second season of "Community" and 10 minutes ago I've finished watching "Scott Pilgrim vs. the World". Sad, that's what it is...

After the very hectic (but extremely enjoyable) week on the road, I came back home and, as messed up as it is, I have no reason to get up before noon.

It's hard being proactive, when there's nothing to be proactive about. Plus, I miss being high on endorphin. I need a fix ;)

Racial Memory

"Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake" 

                                                                     Henry David Thoreau

The reason why I begin today's post with a quote is simple. Today I will write about dreams, and I thought, hey, a nice quote might be just what I need to introduce the subject. Mind you, to find a fitting quote was not that easy, since most of the ones mentioning dreams are more focused on aspirations and suchlike, instead of dreams that come to us when our minds rest at night (By the way, until I googled it up, I had no idea who H.D. Thoreau was, ignorant, ignorant me...).

So... I have one reoccurring dream. It's not the one when I'm falling, neither the one in which someone is chasing me and I'm trying to run away, but I can't, because my feet are too heavy.

It's not even one of the "flying" ones. I have enough dreams in which I can fly, which is great, since I can usually do it at will, but this dream is very different.

To begin with, it doesn't occur very often, but when it does, it feels almost as a memory, and not a dream at all. I can even smell fresh grass and moss, as strange as it sounds.

In this dream, I run, but not away from anything. Sometimes I run just for the pure joy it brings, sometimes I actually chase something; not anything in partucular, but a prey, nevertheless. You see, in this dream I run on all four.

I can feel the soft layer of moss and dead leaves underneath my, for lack of better word, feet (I don't want to write paws, I'm not a "Twillight" fan), the moment of impact when my front foot hits the ground, the recoil of muscles as they store the energy of my step while the momentum of chase keeps on pushing me onwards, and then, the spring that lifts me up and foreward, before I have to touch the ground again.

All of this is somewhat hard to explain in words, but you get the idea, I hope. To imagine the whole thing, multiply by four (four feet, right?) and you are almost there...

Anyway, it's a cool dream, but since it's rather strange, it got me thinking maybe it's some kind of racial memory (a quick definition here), especially since it's connected to the sense of smell. You know, some kind of echo coming from the early mammalian parts of my brain, since the mechanics of the run I experience are both very hard to imagine and feel very natural at the same time.

Does it seem rather unlikely? I don't know, it doesn't to me. Afterall, from our dreams we all know what it feels like to fall 100 feet, without actually experiencing a real fall from such height ever in our lives and where is that feeling coming from?

So, although I might try to find some more relevant neuro-psych research on the subject, for the time being I'm left with a dream that I enjoy and you are left with some food for thought ;)

A Virtual Reality Check

Just thinking about what I'm going to write about in this post is making me feel old, old, old (not related to the b-day coming up).

I feel like a "going on 30" equivalent of an old man sitting on his porch, complaining about how the weather used to be so much better when he was young, how the kids were more polite, life more simple and much more enjoyable, and all that despite the fact he had to walk to school 10 miles uphill every day and neither snow nor rain would stop him.

How to begin... ?

I teach English, as some of you might know. Most of the time I help students with their speaking skills, which basically means I spend a lot of time chit chatting about their daily lives, hobbies, interests, opinions etc. (which, as a shrink, I really enjoy, since it gives me a great opportunity to gain a better insight into their generation).

Recently in class, while trying to prep my students for the speaking part of their English exams, I asked a simple (fairly simple, at least) question, as a topic for conversation: "Many popular movies are based on books. Some people believe that the book versions are better than the movie versions. Which do you prefer? Why?". I also wanted them to support their answers with specific examples. Note that I am talking about students 15+. Not very hard, is it?

It took me more less a week to ask the same question in all of my classes as well as the students that I'm tutoring privately. That's altogether some 100 students, a sample that is fairly representative (I really hope that my "Research and Statistics" professor isn't reading this, lol). But, for the sake of argument, lets say that it is a representative sample :) Anyway...

The outcome was exactly what I expected to hear and hoped I wouldn't.

As far as literature goes, way too many kids (or at least my students) don't read books. Only maybe some 10-5% of them actually do, because they like to. The rest of the students only read when forced to and they sure as hell don't enjoy it. Sadly, I even have some student that have not read a single book in their life.

Now, the really disturbing part is this: Most of the kids don't like to read and prefer movies, because books have too many details = are boring AND, god forbid, you actually have to imagine things in your own head (I'm quoting here...), instead of having them nicely presented on screen. So, when push comes to shove, children and teenagers today don't like to read because they don't want to have to think.

Of course, when you ask about their hobbies, all you hear is PC, Playstation 3 (the "3" is very important), Wii, PSP and there are kids who actually list "Facebook" as their hobby, how sad is that? I have quite a nice idea about how most of them spend their free time, since I know for a fact that last year's most wished for Xmas present among the boys was Call of Duty: Black Ops...

Not surprisingly, most of the kids who like to read are excellent students and vice versa.

I love to read. By the time I was 15, I've read dozens, possibly even hundreds of books. I'm not talking about books for kids only. E.A. Poe, Shakespeare, Irving, basically whatever I could get my hands on, starting with my mom's library and working my way up. Of course, I was a bit of a geek, I give you that. By no means I expect the kids to read as much as I did, being well aware that my love of literature deprived me of many other things (well developed social skills, to begin with).

However, developing brain needs stimulation and exercise, and I really don't think that watching TV or spending hours and hours playing Call of Duty (or even worse, Farmville on FB), provides teenagers with either of those.

Regarding technology, our world has changed drastically during the last 20 years. Internet, superfast computers and smart mobile phones , all those things make our  lives much easier, but the price we pay is fairly high, unless we realize they are just tools, nothing more, nothing less. The kids who were born into this era, from the very beginning of their days surrounded by all these things, have no way of comparing "now" and "then".

So I'd say all in moderation. Let the kids play games on Playstation, let them watch TV and have a facebook profile, but teach them to love books and other things, too. TV and computer games don't really teach them much and the only thing they nourish is passivity.

I know from my own experience (of course I play games on Pc too) how spending too much time in front of the screen helps to grow detached from the things that really matter, e.g. real life...

You don't want to live in a world when 15 year olds don't know who Gandhi was and watching them to come up with any kind kind of opinion is more painful than watching a glacier move, do you?

The Purpose of Raspberry

Today, in the middle of completely mundane task of preparing lunch, I suddenly recalled one of the oldest memories I have of my childhood.

I was born in a small mountain town and my grandma would be often taking me for walks in surrounding woods. By the end of the summer the woods would be full (for a given value of full) of raspberries and blackberries, and, like every kid, I loved picking and eating them, ripe and sweet.

Well, at one point, I must have been 2 -3 years old, probably one of the first times I indulged in harvesting the fruits of the wild, my grandmother saw me and warned me not to eat the berries without washing them first. Fair enough, although back then I asked her the most devastating of questions all parents and grandparents dread, the inquisitive "why".

The answer still haunts me, occasionally, since it was fairly inventive and burned an eternal image in my young and easily shaped mind.

My grandma told me not to eat the fruit without washing it, since mice climb up the bushes and then pee on the berries.

I swear, till today I can still picture a mouse needing very badly to "answer the call of nature", frantically searching for the nearest raspberry bush, climbing it, quickly picking up the ripest berry, carefully positioning itself balancing on its two hind legs (I was a small boy and that's how I peed) and then peeing all over it.

Kudos for inventive parenting :)

Of course, since I've spent a lot of my childhood years running wild in the woods, I've eaten my share of all kinds of berries, in my mind most of them quite probably used as rodent lavatory on regular basis, and this only taught me not to be too picky regarding the quality and origin of any kind of food obtained by means other than being bought in a supermarket.

Oh, the bliss of being a kid.

I guess sometimes, when you really want your berries, extra serving of mice piss is a small price to pay, so to speak ;)