Paper Inspired

I'm always in awe of creative thinkers and innovators. People who take simple, everyday things and make them beautiful. Case and point -- these artists, who have taken their love for words, letters, script, and literature to a whole new level.

Spectacular!

Who would have thunk it? Such a fun idea!

So true. If only we chose listen to those stories, instead of the superficial.

Brilliant idea.

I wouldn't even open this gift if it came my way. So well presented.

Love!

xo
Simi


Images courtesy of Pinterest.com

A toad by any other name

I've been meaning to share this story with you all for quite some time now, but my biggest fan and number one critic (Mama C) didn't know about it, and I was afraid to tell her. But thanks to my lovely sibling, she's been enlightened, and now I'm free to share it with all of you.

So, here we go!

The back story.

A few weeks after moving back to Toronto from Seoul, I decided I needed to get out of my slump and meet new people. You might have read about my feelings upon moving back (if not, check out A year in a dream), but suffice to say, I felt left behind while all my friends had moved on in their respective lives, careers, romances, etc. So I thought the most logical thing to do at that time was to try online dating. It seemed easy enough -- you log in, create a profile, upload a photo, and consider your options.

A few friends were lucky enough to meet their significant others online, so I thought this was a good sign. Mind you, the sites they joined ranged from the popular ones you could join for free (my first big mistake in this endeavour), to the more complicated ones that involved filling out a questionnaire about 10 pages long.

So one Wednesday afternoon, after waking up confused about the date and time again, (an awful reaction to jet-lag), I joined the online dating world. I won't plug the website here, but I'll say this -- for a site that says they have a lot of fish, it sure doesn't have a variety. I think this is one of those cases where quality over quantity DOES matter.

I dove straight in.

I filled out the basic profile information -- age, sex, location, physical attributes, what I was looking for, interests. They seemed like basic enough questions that would matter when searching for a suitable partner online. Then came the other questions that set off a red flag in my mind, but which I filled out anyway -- race, body type, religion, political views...

Those of you who know me will agree that I'm more of a mind over matter kind of person. Sure, I like a great smile and broad shoulders just a much as the next person, but given the choice, I'll take a witty conversation, a sense of humour and intellectual stimulation over dead air, fancy dinners and kisses any day. (Yep, you read that right).

The usual suspects.

Within minutes of uploading my profile, I was inundated with messages. OK, that sounds a little pompous, but bear with me. I realized very quickly that women on online dating sites bear the brunt when it comes to filthy, bizarre and borderline creepy messages. They ranged from one liners about my race, to questions about my personal habits. Mind you, this was without an introduction. An even more creepy aspect was the age range of the guys sending these messages -- anywhere between 19 to 65. Just about any guy with a pulse and a libido, eh?

Within a few days I learned to filter the messages. I set up a criteria for myself and ruled out any messages that were one liners composed in broken English, (I will not date someone who doesn't know the difference between your and you're, to and two. We learn the difference between these words in grade 3, and the invention of spell-check does not give you an excuse to slack off on that matter. Phew! Sorry. Obviously a touchy subject.), or contained any reference to my race or religion from the get go.

I've never considered race or religion to be factors in my dating pursuits, and I know that I'd expect the same from anyone I was with. I hoped that with the turn of the century and with globalization these wouldn't be factors for anyone. I would never want to be with someone who only wanted to date me because I was X race or X religion. That would be a recipe for disaster from the gamut.

Along came J*

A few weeks and many disappointments later, I found myself weaning off the idea of online dating. I started to realize I preferred meeting people in real life. I mean, not that this wasn't real life, but this idea of quantity over quality was killing me. And I was becoming more jaded with each new message received with the title, "Yo baby! Ssup?!" I decided to give myself a chance for a couple more weeks, before deleting my profile from this pool of fish all together.

One night I received the following message in my inbox.

Subject: Dear Pretty Lady
Message: I am a PhD graduate from ******, where I specialized in ****** research. I am also an Indian Catholic just like you, and you know how rare we are in Canada. I am kinda bored this evening. Would you like to chat? :)
- J

I didn't reply back to him because I was turned off by the idea that he found my profile by typing 'Indian' and 'Catholic' into his search box. If these were important factors to him, then I knew we wouldn't get along. I figured not responding to him would mean I wasn't interested. This had worked in the past with messages from other guys, and I also figured it was the universal way of telling people you weren't interested in them (at least in this strange world of online dating).

Five minutes later, I received the following message.

Message: How come all the Pretty Indian Catholic girls are in Toronto, and I am stuck here in Vancouver? It's not fair. :)

Again, he emphasized the whole Indian Catholic thing. Now I knew for sure we wouldn't gel. But at this point I was also quite irritated and felt inclined to respond back with something snarky and mean. Instead, all I could come up with was this:

Message: I'm sure there's tons in Vancouver. Maybe you're not looking in the right places.

I guess he took this as a good sign (and now, I see how he could have), because I found an instant message pop up from him (the site had instant messaging?!). We talked for maybe five minutes. He asked me a bunch of questions about myself, and I tried to remain as short and civil to him as possible. I excused myself and told him I had to go offline, and said goodbye. It ended with him asking me to send him my contact information.... which, of course, I didn't.

The following morning, I received this message.

Subject: Dear Pretty S
Message: I enjoyed chatting with you this evening, and I am happy that you are a Goan. If you are interested, you can read about some of my best scientific research available from the ****** website. Anyway, I was planning to go to Hawaii in November, but it is hard to find a nice Indian Catholic girl to accompany me. So I was thinking if you would like to take a couple weeks off in November, perhaps you could visit me in Vancouver for a few days and then we could go from here. If you book your flight to and from Vancouver, I will pay for our trip to Hawaii. We would have a great time. When you are in Vancouver, I could teach you how to ski, and then when we get to Hawaii, I could teach you how to surf. :) I haven't really dated that much, but I am looking for a long term relationship with a lady that I could potentially marry someday. Please let me know if you are interested?
Best Regards,
- J (He also included his e-mail address and phone number in the message.)

This wasn't really happening, was it? ANOTHER emphasis on the whole Indian Catholic thing? Should I have told him that I barely made it to Sunday mass every week? Should I have indicated in my profile somewhere that being Indian doesn't define who I am and what I do on a daily basis? And to top that off... a free trip to Hawaii, ONLY IF I came on my own to visit him in Vancouver first? After a five minute chat?! This couldn't be real.

So I made a mental note to remove my race and religion from future online dating profiles (yet to happen). And even if he found me based on those factors, I would assume one look at what I wrote on my profile would drive him away, screaming, in the opposite direction -- we seemed like complete opposites as far as our priorities in life were concerned. So I ignored this message as well, figuring that not responding to a trip to Hawaii would drive home the point that I wasn't interested.

Then, a few days later, I received this message.

Subject: S, I like your eyes...
Message: ...because they are almost as narrow as mine. It was once said that evil spirits enter into wider eyes. So at least we don't have to worry about that. :)
- J

At this point, I was starting to get amused. I shared these messages with a friend of mine, who said, "You know, in all the time I've known you, I've never looked into your eyes and thought, 'Gee, S has really narrow eyes!'"

My own mum went into shock when she read this message recently. "For a scientist he sure does believe in old-wives tales a lot, huh?" she said.

As you can imagine, I still didn't respond back. But I also didn't think he was worthy of being blocked. After all, it wasn't too bad yet... right?

A few days later...

Subject: S, your eyes remind me...
Message: ...of the beauty of a tranquil Vancouver sunset gently glistening over the peaceful pacific blue.
- J :)

OK, this was nice. But if this hadn't been preceded by the string of bizarre and kind of creepy messages, I would have been flattered. I know by this point you're thinking, "Why haven't you responded to him yet?!" Or, "You're leading him on..." (How so?)

Here's the thing... I can't bring myself to tell someone, flat out, that I'm not interested in them. And I know a lot of you share my fear. I've had people do it to me in the past, and I know you, dear reader, have either had it happen to you, or have done it to someone else. I don't condone this, but I do think it's a better tactic than leading someone on with false hope. (Don't you think that's far worse?)

Wouldn't you figure that if someone hasn't responded to your handful of messages by now, that they weren't interested? Wouldn't you think that someone with a PhD would put the pieces together somehow?

No.

A few days later...

Subject: Dear Pretty S,
Message: I think you should get to know me. I don't drink alcohol or coffee because I don't take drugs and caffeine is a drug. If I get bored or depressed, I just run for miles and miles on the downtown Vancouver seawall. I am a (Ivy League)-educated scientist with a background in ******, ******, ******, and ******. To be honest, I am actually looking for a long term relationship with a lady I can marry someday. Although I am 35, I have better strength and stamina than most 25 year olds, and I have a healthy 102-year old Grandfather, so I am really only one third through my life.

If we are compatible, I am sure I can provide you with a wonderful and happy life in Vancouver, and it is only a five hour plane ride away from your family in Toronto which you can visit anytime. I believe that we could bring much happiness to each other's lives and to the lives of our families. Perhaps we could chat on skype video sometime?

Best Regards,
- J

Where do I begin...?!
1. I love how he assumed that if we got together I'd drop everything and move to Vancouver to live with him. Talk about an antiquated manner of thinking.
2. He's assuming he's a third though his life -- he could get hit by a bus tomorrow and be 100 per cent through his life (morbid, I know, but it's the truth).
3. If he thinks coffee is a drug, then that fact alone would set us miles apart. I love my cuppa java in the morning, and a nice cuppa tea in the evening. And sometimes, I like a glass of Merlot. And on hot days, I'll indulge in a margarita or two. I guess that makes me (and 99.9 per cent of the planet) a drug addict.

A few HOURS later, I received this.

Subject: S, I am not that good at mind reading.
Message: Also, I never really understood the concept of taking a hint? :) Please let me know what you thought about my previous messages because I would like to get to know you better. Thanks S.
- J

And finally, the last straw.

Message: Dear S, I once wanted to be a journalist, but I let it pass me by in favour of science. In journalism, we look for the crisis around us. In science, we cherish the universe that surrounds us. That is why I became a scientist.
- J

And with that, I blocked him, deleted my profile from the pool of fish, and vowed never to take online dating seriously again. It may work for a lot of people out there, but it clearly isn't for me right now.

I couldn't believe this guy. He insulted me for being in journalism... but the saving grace was AT LEAST I was a Goan.

Really? Is this what's left to deal with?

Dear readers, I would LOVE it more than anything if you shared some of your stories with me. Am I alone in my experiences? Do you have a funny or horrifying online dating story worth sharing?

Please join in the discussion on the blog's Facebook group or comment on this post. I can't possibly be alone in my experiences... can I?

xo




Image courtesy of Google Images
*Name has been changed for the sake of discretion.

Your roots will follow

It's always nice to remember where you came from, even if you're not sure where you're going.


My lovely aunt sent me the sweetest e-mail greeting today. I mentioned her in a post I wrote after visiting India in 2008. She's in her mid-70's and still managed to find the perfect e-greeting for this random Saturday message. Her tech-savvy-ness is beyond impressive!

There was no purpose or special occasion for the greeting. She just wanted to say that she was thinking of me, and that she was proud of me. I was pretty taken aback, as I wasn't expecting to hear from her until my birthday. Her words were like sweet poetry -- something that I've always known comes very naturally to her. My aunt knows just what to say and when. I love listening to her and reading her letters.

In a few short sentences she reminded me of all that I've overcome in life, and of all that she hopes for my future. As I lay on my bed while the rain hit the pavement outside, I couldn't help but feel absolutely guilty. I think about her often and I miss her a lot. I'm not sure why I haven't stayed in touch. It's not like I don't have the time. I guess I just wasn't thinking. As soon as I'm done this post I will be writing to her. But before that, I should mention one thing that came up in the message.

"When will the experiences of your Goa trip materialize?" she asked.

I wasn't sure what she meant when I read the question at first. But after spending the afternoon thinking about it, I remembered something. During my short visit with her, she was keen on me writing a series of articles about a pressing issue in Goa at the moment -- a beautiful post-colonial state that's being exploited by tourists with a lot of money, and a government that's more keen on pleasing them, rather than preserving the rich culture and heritage that makes Goa so unique from the rest of India.

I never did end up writing those articles. But now I feel the need to do.... something.

I've been keeping updated on the changes, however I'm no longer a citizen of India. I haven't been for a very long time. Still, as you know, fragments of my heart are floating along the Arabian coast and memories of Goa cease to disappear with time. Though I'm not physically present, my roots extend from that small, coastal state. I'll always be tied to it, regardless of where I end up on this planet. I mean, here I am, in Seoul, Korea, thinking of a country I lived in as child. I only spent three weeks in the state as an adult, but I remember the distinct changes in the landscape, the priorities and most of all, in the environment.

My aunt is an active member in the community. Despite age and dwindling health, she still finds the strength to wake up each morning and trudge to the capital city and work for the causes she believes in. A critical one that she's involved in is empowering women in local villages to educate themselves and stand up for their rights. This is a big deal, as a lot of women in rural parts of the state still live with the old mindset that they simply go from being daughters and sisters to wives and mothers. And, should the unfortunate occur and their husbands pass away, they confine themselves to their houses and wait their turn to dive into the great abyss.

She really does amaze me. I'm grateful to her as she's the link to my roots. My aunt reminds me of where I came from -- of my ancestors and history. She sees purpose in my existence and believes that I can enforce change. I'm flattered, but I hope an idea or opportunity surfaces soon.

Looks like it's time to put on my thinking hat.

As Winnie the Pooh says, "Think, think, think..."

Love you, aunty M!

xo
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Image courtesy of Google Images

From a page

I wrote the following a few minutes ago... on paper. Funny enough, I find myself wanting to share it with you on here... which involves typing on a keyboard. I'm moving with the times, but holding on to the romance of old.

Stream of consciousness... It's always been my favourite part of writing, from the time I learned to put pen to paper. I still remember feeling excited about receiving my first fountain pen in the third grade. "Now, I'll be a writer," I thought. Something about taking what's floating around in the mind and allowing it to become a thought... then taking that very thought and channeling it from the mind, to the muscles, to the bones in the fingers, and, finally, to the pen and letter-pad... seeing the thought become a visual. Something about that has always brought me peace. I've described it to friends as de-cluttering my mind. Sort of like cleaning an untidy room... except in this case, I'm not putting things back where they belong, but, rather, removing the unwanted and tossing it out. OR, taking what I like and making it have substance. By putting it into words, it becomes concrete. Here it rests on the paper... words from my mind, in a particular place and time. In this case, 12:29 a.m. on Monday, January 4th, 2010. Right now, perhaps nothing exciting or Harlequin-worthy -- but still entertaining, nonetheless. I am thankful for thoughts tonight.

xo
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A Dream Unfolds

I received a beautiful gift today -- one that is both thoughtful, and so unexpected.

Two of my colleagues, (one, a Korean language teacher, and the other, a math teacher), had been working together on this gift for a few weeks now, without my knowledge.

This morning, the two of them walked into my classroom and presented me with a bright yellow enevelope and a black pouch. I wasn't sure what was going on, or what the customs were in terms of receiving and opening gifts, so I simply said 'Thank You' and placed the envelope on my table. They insisted that I open it at that very moment, because they said they had instructions for me.

Still feeling those nervous butterflies dancing in the pit of my stomach (the ones that surface everytime someone says they have a surprise for me), I slowly opened the envelope. It revealed a paper with some Chinese, Korean and English words printed on it. I was confused. They then asked me to open the pouch, which contained my very own Korean “dojang” 도장 (aka Korean Seal).

Mrs S and C had been working on this gift with a lot of attention. For days, they looked over my name in English, focusing on the characters, letters and sounds, while trying to synch them with similar sounds in Korean and Chinese characters. I remember Mrs. C had approached me not too long ago, and had asked me to spell out my name in English. I wasn't sure what it was for, but I did it anyway, without much thought.

I guess this was the final result.

It seems everyone in Korean has their own dojang stamp, and it has more value than a signature made by pen. If someone were to steal your dojang and use it as their own, it would be considered identity theft. Although, they do need to be registered in order to be considered legal.

"If you want to buy a car or house, you need a dojang, otherwise it's not valid," said Mrs S, while we sipped on our post-lunch coffee. "I gave my daughter one for her 10th birthday."

I always wondered what the seals around the sign-in table were about.

Anyway, after just completing three months at my school, and in Korea, this was such a welcoming present.

Now, the meaning they came up with. They played around with my name a little bit, because they said they wanted it to reflect my personality, and their wishes for me. They blended in Chinese characters with Korean to get "SI MONG".

The paper in the yellow envelope read as follows:

[SI - pronounced "SHE"] UNFOLD

[MONG] DREAM

"A Dream Unfolds!"

Yes, it included the exclaimation mark. I think this has to be one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received. After they instructed me on how and when to use it, they said they were thankful to have met me, and offered up some wonderful wishes.... all unexpected. Even now, six hours later, I'm still reeling.

This country never ceases to surprise me.

xo
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Will Write For Chocolate

A quick note after receiving my first care package while in Seoul.

One of my friends back in Toronto had the bright idea to purchase a bunch of magazines and send them to me as a package. I realize she knows me better than I thought she did, because I was going through some major reading withdrawal. This is just what I needed! These magazines will keep me entertained for weeks. I am thrilled.

Aside from issues of People, Cosmopolitan and Elle (sure to satisfy my need for trashy reads), she also included a December '09 copy of The Writer, a magazine I used to browse through while strolling around Chapters or Indigo. One of the first things I saw while flipping through it at my desk, was a comic strip I had completely forgotten about.

Will Write for Chocolate is a pretty entertaining cartoon published on the web by Toronto-based Debbie Ridpath Ohi. It chronicles the life of a writer trying to make it through her first novel. I've found myself chuckling to these little bursts of entertainment many times, because on so many levels, I can relate.

Here's one that's my absolute favourite.

Lesson learned for today: Never underestimate the power a well thought out care package can have on your emotions... especially during a chilly, mind-numbing winter's day!

Love you lots, HC!

xo
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p.s. You can click on the picture to make it bigger.

Image courtesy of WillWriteForChocolate.com

A bright spot

I saw this on another blog and couldn't help but share. It echoes my thoughts and sentiments at this very momement in time, as I find myself on the other side of the world, away from comforts and routine.

I hope you take something away from it as well.

xo

SC

Image courtesy of A Life  More Fabulous - Quote by Eve Ensler, as published in Glamour magazine's Dec '09 issue

LOVE locked down

Some friends and I visited Namsan Tower and the Teddy Bear Museum in Seoul this past weekend, to celebrate our one-month anniversary in Korea. We were pretty thrilled about the perfect weather that Saturday brought us, and were absolutely entertained by all the sights and sounds that greeted us during our trip. Everything from cotton-candy (in cups, no less) booths and dried/smoked fish in paper bags were available as treats.

It was my first experience watching the seniors in Korea trudge up and down the hill with no sense of physical ailment or age. I was fascinated and humbled all the same. My friends who climbed Suraksan mountain in Seoul, said they've witnessed older Korean men and women climb the mountain as though it were a relaxed Sunday stroll through an even park... except the mountain is rocky and almost at a 90 degree angle.

This country and its people never cease to amaze me.

On that note, here's my thoughts about one of the many things that stood out during my trip. The following are a series of photos I took while around the Namsan Tower grounds. These are the Locks of Love that can be found on the fences, stairs and railings that surround the tower grounds.

From what I've read, these are locks that visitors to the tower grounds have purchased or brought and attached to the various areas of the grounds. They're meant to symbolize 'forever' kind of love and the idea is that if you attach the lock and dispose of the key... you're bound forever. But... just don't throw the key away, off the cliff.

This is just one of the many sections of locks. They went on forever, in all sorts of directions. There's locks upon locks of people from all over the world... couples who've left messages for each other, and some, with messages to the world. It's kind of neat. I wish some of you could see the real deal!

That's the Hangang river in the distance. This river flows right across Seoul, and it's truly majestic, as it winds it's way from east to west. I hope to see it at night soon. I've only seen it while taking the subway across town to get my Mac fixed. The view from the Namsan Tower grounds is truly humbling.

After we got over our initial shock at seeing all the locks, we decided to dig deeper and check out some of the messages. This is the first one I found. It reads: "I was lucky to come to Korea... It was a destiny to meet you... I LOVE YOU! Tyler + Jieun Forever."

I'm not quite sure why, but I feel this pronouncement of love is being made to the TTC in Toronto. I think it might be the way the bow is designed. Needless to say that after seeing the Seoul subway system, I don't share this lover's sentiments.

This one reads: ":) Yay! 4 months we've been together. I don't know when we are gonna come back to see this, haha, but I know I'll still feel the same way about you :) I really care about you and I really can't stop thinking about u (you!) :)." Annoying.... must be puppy love!

This was too cute to pass up. There were many locks on these fences, varying in sizes, shapes and styles. This pair was cute.

I saw this one and thought about SK's obsession with the H1N1 virus... Perhaps the key to happiness amidst the chaos caused by the virus is inside this lock/capsule?

This one seems classy and traditional... but almost sad. These love locks are all holding on to this one simple lock. A blend of modern combination locks and padlocks... I think I'm also amazed that heart-shaped combination locks exist.

This one was also kind of nice. It reads: "Joel, Mahal Na Mahal (which, I believe is in Tagalog). I wait for you. I will always love you. I will always keep you here inside my heart. Thanks for loving me."

I loved this one. The pink lock with the red heart stands out so simply despite it's small size. It doesn't have any messages on it or anything else. I wonder what the person's thoughts were as they attached it to the fence. I hope that they were either in absolute love... or absolutely hopeful.

I fell in love with the romance that this lock showcased... it was rusty and worn out. It caught my eye from a distance, and I decided I needed a closer look to get a sense of how long it had been up on the fence... June 27, 2009. Hmm.... well, depending on how you look at it, three months can be a long time, I guess...

I think this one is definitely one of my favourites... not because of the big, obvious, red heart, but because of the message. It reads: "Babe - I love you more 2day (ugh!) than I did yesterday. But less today (yay!) than I will tomorrow." The hopeless romantic inside me wished this was original... but I felt I'd heard these words before. A quick Google search when I got home showed that these are actually lyrics from Ku-U-i-Po; a song sung by Elvis Presley in Blue Hawaii. It still warmed my heart.

Then there was this one... It turned out blurry for a reason, I guess. It reads: "Hi Ella! I feel so happy to be with you here right now. Even though I might be getting angry, I hope you don't thik I am changing. :) You have no idea how thankful I am to have you in my life. Whenever I look at you I think that I love you so much more." ... Hmm... don't be angry, buddy! You're surrounded by love locks!

Talk about a locked fence! But just in case you didn't get the message... don't try to enter through the Love Lock Fence!

I hope you enjoyed these photos as much as I enjoyed experiencing them. Please share your thoughts with me when you have a moment.

xo
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Love in the Words

I’m a writer, and I’m mildly obsessed.

I was talking to my mother last night about one of the constant loves in my life – words.

I love words.

Just like many of you reading this, she too thought I sounded slightly nutty. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to plead my case.

Over the years, I’ve found myself in some pretty interesting situations in terms of friendships, relationships, and other odds and ends… all because of a few choice words (or lack of) strategically woven together, either by myself or the other party.

Take for instance my experience with X. Spoken words were plenty. We would talk about anything and everything for hours. I would talk, X would listen, and then sometimes interject with words so thoughtful, I’d wonder why they never came to me first.

Then, sometimes, X would utter a few choice words that would cut like the sharpest blade slicing through flesh. Moods would shift, not by actions in this case, but by words.

They have so much power in sounds and visuals. Soothing words; harsh words; pleading words; loving words; caring words; Hallmark words – they all have the ability to make or break moments.

Think of the most inspirational quotes, excerpts and lyrics that you love. Why do you love them? Perhaps because the meanings resonate inside you, correct? But what creates the meaning? Words –- strategically thought out, and then woven together to resonate.

There are centuries of studies conducted by linguists and psychologists, professors and writers, all with their own theories on why words are what they are.

In my opinion, people need to stop theorizing and start enjoying them. Listen as you speak. Think of what you’re saying. Look as you write. You’ll see what I’m talking about.

Poets, songwriters, novelists – they don’t just write, they weave. Handpicked words that they know will leave a lasting impact.

I did some research to see if anyone else felt the way I did, and what do you know? Check out Life is Baeutiful and the 100 Most Beautiful Words in English.

Please let me know what you think.

xo

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Dear Readers

I've really been struggling with my writing for the past few weeks. I've already spoken about wanting to feel inspired... but that's not the issue this time around.

I guess I've been wondering (on my own accord) about whether or not StraightFromTheCurls is self-indulgent. I wonder if perhaps writing about my life and the thoughts that stem from it is almost... perhaps, narcissistic? I don't want it to be. My goal with this blog was simple: to have a corner of the WWW where I'd be able to just vent. I don't usually vent a lot to the people in my life... so this would be a way for me to get things off my chest, without the pressures of picking someone to confide in.

Anyway, over the course of the past year or so, StraighFromTheCurls turned into a weekly/monthly musings blog. Events and happenings in my life would lead to random rants and thoughts that you, my readers actually paid attention to... and some would even leave comments. I loved how that happened. And I guess I want it to continue. But by no means do I want it to be a selfish thing. If you're reading StraightFromTheCurls, I hope you're reading it because you want to and because you're interested in my thoughts (whether for amusement or insight... I'll leave that up to you).

With that said, I'll continue on.

xo
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Define 'Blog-worthy'?

This was a Facebook message exchanged between myself and a couple of friends who've been galavanting around Europe for the past three months...

SC says:
Dear N & V,
I hate your status updates. Please stop... I've been crying for 3 months now. Luv you and hope you're having a great time. ♥ SC

N's response back:
SC!!!!!!!!!!!!
i love you and i miss you andf i cant wait to see you
you are the greatest pers0on ever

ive been drinking
so my tpyoing is horrinble
i applogise
qahahaha
SC
2 weels
we need to catch up
i love you



..... Definitely Blog-worthy!

xo
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Letters

I've written a lot of letters in my life; some to other people and most to myself. None of these letters were typed out. If and when they were, I called them e-mails.
I recently got back into the habit of writing long-winded and conversational letters. Not too long ago I shared one with a friend who was shocked that I still did this. I looked at her and wondered if there was something wrong with me. As it turns out, she was shocked because:
a) my handwriting was still legible... apparently in these days of the keyboard, peoples penmanship has taken a turn for the worse... and
b) she actually enjoyed reading it.

Some of the letters I have written have gone along the following lines:

When I was 12, I wrote a letter to myself at age 16. I wrote a list of things I needed to have done and accomplished by 16. I also wrote down my 12-year-old thoughts about how the world would look at age 16. I put the letter in an airmail envelope, and highlighted the front, "To Me at 16. Do not open till 16th Birthday." Strangely enough, on my 16th birthday (which, mind you, was life altering enough for me to never forget) it was the first thing I did. For four years I had played and replayed the contents of the letter in my head and knew exactly what was in that envelope as I opened it. Still, the idea of reading it thrilled me to no extent. Nevertheless, I had accomplished 2 out of the 10 things I had listed. I haven't written such a letter ever since. At 16 I learned never to set timelines for myself, because life should be lived small goals at a time.

I have written letters to three guys in my lifetime. One in elementary school, one in high school and one during my university years... this one ended up being one of those e-mails I mentioned earlier. Though I will never disclose the contents of these letters and to an extent, go flush-faced every time I think about them, I don't regret ever writing them. I have always found writing therapeutic. I find comfort in expressing my thoughts and ideas with a pen on paper, rather than speaking them out. When i do speak, I get nervous, I feel judged, I feel like a flake and I also find that I repeat myself.

I wrote a letter to my father at age eight. The I wrote one to him at 12... 14... 15...

I have written numerous letters to my family overseas. Most of the time, I never get a response. However, the letters I send never come back, so I know they receive them. Therefore, I keep writing.

I still think mail, the old fashioned way, has the power to bring a smile to anyone's face. However, bills or flyers do not count.

When I put my thoughts and ideas down on paper, I feel as though they are being absorbed into an honest place. The paper does not judge me... it just takes whatever I have to say, line after line. You may be wondering here, what I'm doing writing this blog via keyboard... Well, the content of this blog was written while I rode the subway a couple of nights ago, on my way home from work. In a book. With a pen... when I should have been reading for my 8 a.m. class the next day.