June's Links to Love

Artsy:

I really like this Laurena Poplin Beige fabric and wish it weren't sold out.

Another really fabulous apartment with a bunk bed!

Gorgeous etsy stamps.

Beautiful flower teas:



If you had a castle, would you decorate the inside to fit its era or to be more modern, like this?

Quiet sand art.

Russian sand artist Kseniya Simonova touches with Russian history in her art and perfectly matched music (worth the 8 minutes):




Music:

A 96-year-old man plays Flight of the Bumblebee on the marimba! (You've gotta love musical Mormons.)

Eurovision song contest 2010 "Satellite" song.

French Gothic music video (found here at Infocult):




Literary:

Poems on the spot. Your price.

I haven't read any of Sarah Dessen's books, but she sure has written some quotable lines that make me want to.


Yes, I Love Technology:

The history of Twitter.

The periodic table of the internet.

Blogger template design available to all users!

Google gravity.


Mormons:

Inventions for Mormons. (Add to the list if you have any ideas.)

Mormons and business on CNBC.

Long, but beautiful interview of Gary Ceran, the man whose wife, son, and daughter died in an accident on Christmas Eve in 2006.

Heeeeelarious comments on Mormon blogs in the last year. Oh man. I had to read every single one of them.


Random:

The cost of pets as calculated by mint.com.

England-U.S. goals recreated with legos:



I didn't know these silly bandz were in until NPR did a report on them.

The best family picture ever (it involves duct tape).

The ancient Hebrew conception of the universe (found here):

























The secret powers of time presentation takes about ten minutes to watch, but it's really fascinating. Which time do you live in?



Witty alternative energy commercial:



I've been reading about the failure Jabulani soccer ball everywhere. It makes me want to try one out.

Oh wouldn't you love a GMail sweatshirt????

I think I could send a few pictures to beforeyouwerehot.com. You?

Have you heard of Windy, the plastic bag? NPR covers the story.

The coolest list--Wikipedia's list of misconceptions--I knew it about the cold air. I knew it! And the idea that sushi has fish in it . . . there are so many things to love about this list!

I've been wanting to see John Rabe for over a year. Do you know his story? He was a German who saved thousands of lives in China.

6 billion others--interviews of people all around the world.

The Seventeen Magazine Project (this girl followed the magazine's advice for a month). NPR interview.

Reason 115 to have a dog: hilarious child entertainment.

(Found here.)

Empty Shelves

I liked A Black Sheep in Boston's post about simplifying your life and limiting physical items.

When I get stressed, I start throwing things away. And lately, I've gotten down to very few physical belongings, but I still wish I could get rid of more.

And how weird is this? I think the sight of an empty shelf is a very satisfying sight. Even though shelves exist to be filled.

Sunny Sunday

I had a fabulous day today. I woke up feeling happy from a telephone conversation I had with a friend as I was laying in bed, ready to fall asleep. The weather was so lovely I went to church without a jacket. Church was, as always, calming. I got to play the organ, and we sung two boisterous hymns that I really enjoy. The talks were well-thought out and the musical number was simply amazing (Elder Clawson played "Oh, How Lovely Was the Morning" arranged by Marshall McDonald), and Sunday School was, as usual when Brother Bauerfeind is teaching, amusing and informative.

Then, I had the opportunity of giving the Relief Society lesson about serving others (Sister Lederer played the piano for me in the primary). I purposely had them name the things that one would normally hear in a talk about service (that we follow Jesus's example, that it is actually serving God, that it blesses us, etc.), and then I said, "We're going to discuss some other things." President Monson's talk from October 2009 was the basis of the lesson, and these are the things I found interesting:

• He reminded us of our baptismal covenants, that we are willing to carry one another's burdens so they are light. He said most of us already are willing, but actually carrying, the way Jesus did, is something we sometimes need to be reminded to do.
  
• He focused on daily service.
• He asked, "What have I done for others?" not, "Have I done any good for others?"
• He talked about communication as a form of service! Wow. He said that we often live side by side but we don't communicate from heart to heart. (We talked a lot about this one, especially when something needs to be critiqued.)

We also talked about the five languages of love and how they help us to know how to serve people. I told them about developing love for my grandpa through service and listened to their examples as well. One sister told of how a friend of hers came to her and just needed to talk about things going on in her life. The sister felt bad that she couldn't really do anything concrete to help, but the friend was so thankful that she had done just that--listen. That was all she had needed. Then, I handed out post-it notes and we thought up some real things we could do this week for other people. Some ideas were:

• Visit a sister in a retirement home.
• Invite someone to eat cake with you.
• Call someone.
• Ask the bishop whom you can help in the ward.
• Fast and pray for someone.
• Fast and pray for ward leaders.
• Give someone flowers and a card.
• Write a nice card to a ward leader.

I also reminded them that there is a time in life when we have to be able to accept help (like when Mike had me write a list of everything I had to do besides my Master's thesis, and he figured it all out for me), and I encouraged them also to ask someone to do them a favor this week. I wish I could hear their reports later, but I'm not usually in the Relief Society anyway, so I doubt that will happen.

After church, I went home to get some sugar for a friend and then I had a bit of lunch and enjoyed sitting in the shade in the beautiful warmth wearing some awesome pink retro sunglasses that matched my shirt. Then I got to go back to the church to meet with the elders. The investigator who was supposed to show up probably ended up watching the World Cup, so they practiced teaching me. It was so uplifting despite the occasional roars from the surrounding area every time something exciting happened in the game, and I thought of some questions and got some good answers that I'd never really thought about before. And Elder Clawson, who I found out is an Olympus Titan, let me copy his music. Suh-weet.

Now I'm home and I'm ready to hit the sack. I love Sundays.

Maracuja Yogurette

I love yogurette chocolate bars. The originals are strawberry-flavored. But now they've introduced a temporary new flavor: passion fruit.

Oh. boy.




They are so yummy.

Scriptures and Ungratefulness

That scripture bag project I did a while ago made me reflect on how, when I was possibly 10 or so, I begged and begged my mom to make a scripture bag for me because I thought my sister's was so great. Then one day, I saw a plastic bag sitting on one of the bar stools and opened it up to find a turquoise pleather scripture bag with my name and some flowers that had been carefully added with paint markers by my mom.

I ran to my room and cried.

Before you start wondering how messed up I was, let me tell you instead how ungrateful I was. First of all, I was sad that my mom hadn't taken the time to make me a pretty bag but had bought one instead. Secondly, I hated leather (still do). Thirdly, I hated turquoise (still do). And lastly, she had written my name upside down.

I didn't tell her about my broken heart, and a few days later she presented me with the bag. I think she was surprised to learn that the "Michelle" was upside down, but as far as I can remember, that's all that happened between us. I used that bag anyway for a few years and then started just carrying my scriptures in my hand.

Oh, how I loved those scriptures! (Except for the gold-colored stenciling of my name. Can you say "picky"?) I always had my scriptures with me on Sundays and read during the week. I underlined every treasure I could find and wrote little life snippets in them as well as comments or questions I had about certain parts. Until I bought my German scriptures, I used those, so from age 8 to age 22. At one point (I think I was 18), my mom bought me some new scriptures for my birthday. And do you know what I did?

I cried. Because I was so attached to my old scriptures.

Wow. I don't consider myself a big crier. But just writing down these memories brings up two crying sessions and three selfishnesses. Sad.

I hope Liv didn't cry when she saw the scripture bag. As I was making it, I kind of thought of those old ladies in every ward who make something for every newly-baptized child or missionary and they're things that the old ladies think are great but no one else does. Who am I turning into?

Ali's Bistro

I've wanted to take a picture of this for Ali for the last two and a half years. Now I've finally succeeded.



Does that mean I should/can leave Leipzig now?

Ich Backe Gerne

Since I realized how many baking supplies I have, I've been baking up a storm in an effort to get rid of them. (Okay, I baked a lot before too, but now I'm doing it mainly based on already-bought ingredients.)

• I made raisin coconut cookies and gave them to my friend's law firm.
• I made raisin coconut cake and gave it to my friends Sylvia, Dietmar, and Kristin.
• I made pizza dough.
• I made coconut cream cake that was just as bad as the first attempt two years ago except that I spooned out as much liquid as I could (I must have written the recipe down wrong. Sister Weber?)
• I made cream puff cake and lemon cake for Liv's baptism (the lemon cake was so weird--next time I'll use less flour and eggs and more baking powder).
• I learned how to make eclairs (but I haven't tried it myself yet).
• I gave Mike corn bread.
• I made kipferl cookies.
• I made a chocolate mud cake and topped it with whipped cream and one cherry.
• I threw together some fabulous chocolate chip cookies.
• My poor roommates. They smell all the baking but haven't been able to enjoy many of the benefits. I did make some cookies which I shared with them.

For Elisa and Sammy's Jugendweihe (something a little like a coming out party), I made:

• corn bread
• orange rolls
• apple pie
• rhubarb strawberry pie
• rainbow jello
• plum cake
  

Baking isn't the only thing I've been playing around with. I made my very first lentil soup (and actually liked it) and I made some delicious hummus and Indian flat bread.

But what I'm most proud of so far is my very first attempts at rhubarb strawberry pie. Rhubarb gets eaten a lot more in Germany, and when a friend offered me some, I jumped at the opportunity. It. was. luscious. See the proof:



I made my own pie crusts and then found and adjusted a recipe online for the filling:

• 3 cups rhubarb stalks cut into 1/2 inch pieces. Trim outside stringy layer of large rhubarb stalks; make sure to trim away any and discard of the leaves which are poisonous; trim ends.
• 1 cup strawberries, stemmed and sliced (I used a lot more than that because one cup wasn't enough to fill the pie.)
  
• 1 cup sugar (I used a bit less.)
  
• 3 Tablespoons of quick cooking tapioca (I used cornstarch.)
  
• 1/4 teaspoon of salt
• 1 teaspoon of grated orange peel (I have no idea how much ended up in the pie, but probably more than that.)
  

Doesn't This Look French? Jakobi Country Style

Just a little more charm from the Jakobis' backyard (including a fluffy white bunny springing through daisies):

Light Trumps

There’s always going to be bad stuff out there. But here’s the amazing thing--light trumps darkness, every time. You stick a candle into the dark, but you can’t stick the dark into the light.

—Jodi Picoult (Found here.)

Scripture Bag

I made a scripture bag for Liv's baptism since she got her own set of scriptures from her parents. After her parents sent me the measurements of the scriptures (there is no quad here because there is no German translation of the JST), I made a rough drawing of the bag and cut out the material. But after I cut it out and started sewing, I realized how the two materials really didn't go together and felt bad. And although the zipper I got from a friend was the exact length I needed, it was black. And the "Liv" turned out kind of weird and uncentered. I'm not at all happy with the overall outcome, but at least I can say I know what I'll do differently next time, and also that I was finally able to sew on a zipper without freaking out and then relying on my mom.

And I was able to re-gift a stuffed animal seal that Mike had given me, named "Taufe" (baptism). Liv was so excited, she promptly declared she would call it "Robby" and brought it to church with her.



What do you think?

Sigh.

Sarahbeth Purcell and Mental Imbalance

Mental imbalance is about as acceptable as herpes. It’s never going to be accepted. But really, it’s a disease just like cancer. It just happens, and eats away all the good parts of your brain, like judgment and happiness and perception and memory and life. And you can die from depression just like any other disease. And it’s not as if people choose it. So why is it still a joke of medicine? "She died of cancer" is a lot more socially acceptable to people than “she committed suicide.” Why?

~ Sarahbeth Purcell, found here.

I looked up Sarahbeth Purcell, and she is an artist and a writer. Sounds like someone I'd like to be like.

Ever Heard of Laughter Yoga?

About an hour after I'd first heard of laughter yoga, I got to try it out at the annual stake Relief Society get-together.

Did you know:

• children laugh around 200 times a day and adults only 15 times?
• the brain can't discern between forced and real laughter, meaning you can fake your brain into releasing good hormones?

My main question was, how were we going to start laughing? No, the lady didn't start doing stand-up comedy. Rather, we did ridiculous things in a group setting so that we felt so stupid we had to laugh. (I'm guessing the concept wouldn't work very well by yourself.) Between each activity, we clapped our hands and walked around saying, "Hoo hoo, ha ha ha!" And every time we came across someone, we had to direct the "ha ha ha" in her direction.

We reenacted a growing flower, the breathing in and out of all the good in the world, and toasting drinks. I think the funniest was the running around after we'd "started up our lawnmowers."

Overall, I think the idea is sound. But I didn't feel like my mood was especially lifted afterwards. I had hoped to laugh so hard that my stomach and cheeks hurt (that hasn't happened in a while), but I didn't feel like my real laughter ever got started. Yesterday, while feeling down, I forced myself to laugh as I walked home from the park. And it never really caught on. But I guess there are some moods that just can't be lifted that easily.

Anyway, try laughter yoga some time.

My Limbo: A Very Honest Glimpse

You know, I've recently been feeling sorry for my blog. Here it is, such a big part of me, and I see how it's changed over the last six months, and I don't like those changes. (Do you ever feel like you're becoming a worse person as time goes on? Shouldn't we be making progress here?) I regret the Michelle I've lost and I doubt I will ever be that Michelle again.

But I'd like to try and personalize my blog again so there is at least a glimpse of me as I exist today. Things are so simple and yet so complicated at the moment. Let me explain.

Several months ago, major health issues brought me to asking my boss if I could work 20 hours a week instead of 40. He was really nice about it and said he'd get back to me. While I was in the hospital, he called and said that my position just wouldn't work with 20 hours a week. Nice. Then, I got a letter saying I had to leave the country by May 10th. I packed everything up and planned to go to Switzerland, while hoping my boyfriend would tell me not to go permanently because he'd miss me too much and that we'd figure something out. A few days later, I finally told my roommates. And do you know what? They were awesome and I feel bad for expecting a different reaction. David made a bunch of calls and then talked to the lady at the immigration office when I was on the phone with her. They figured out that because I do not yet have my official diploma from my Master's, I could extend my student visa. That meant opening up another account with a limited monthly withdrawal and borrowing money from three people. Done. I also learned that my work visa was denied by the employment office because I wasn't getting paid enough for my qualifications. So they punished me instead of telling the company to get with the program. Crazy. However, with a student visa, I'm only allowed to work 20 hours a week, which puts me back at square one. As soon as that diploma comes, I've got to apply for a permission to seek work certificate. And it's got to be work I'm qualified for and that pays enough for those qualifications.

What's more, in April, a relationship that had been doing so well went . . . I don't even know what to call it. I'm still very confused about what happened because he didn't want to discuss whatever had changed or didn't know himself. I guess we'll just say it went stale (on his side). All our dreams of the future wilted away into oblivion. Maybe my health issues may have been part of the problem, because he felt like he wasn't able to help, but he never could understand or realize how much he helped me just by being there for me. Alas, no matter what I did to hold us together, after several weeks, my one-sided efforts just didn't work out. I ended up being continually disappointed and lonely, so that I finally decided it is better to be friends and not broken-hearted every time that your boyfriend doesn't want to see you or visit you or write you or call you. But there's still a shimmer of hope that seems very unrealistic.

And some very good friends of mine just kind of disappeared from my life. I wrote a message and got no answer and now I'm afraid to show up at their door or talk to them for fear of being personally rejected.

I'm lonely. I'm so lonely it grips my heart and makes everything in the world happen slower and thus more painfully. There are lots of very loving friends here in Leipzig, but interestingly enough, the more people I'm with, the lonelier I feel, because I realize they all have someone to go home to, whether it be a spouse, a pet, or a family member. And if they don't, we wither together in misery. Then, the lonelier I feel, the more I want to be alone, the more I wish I had my own apartment to retreat to. If I can't force anyone to be my boyfriend, I want a dog. Or actually, I want a dog in any case because a dog doesn't get in arguments and doesn't have other places to be and is always happy to see me. Every day, I think about having a dog. I stare longingly at every single medium to large-sized dog I see. I imagine having my own Bernese Mountain Dog puppy to cuddle with and take for walks and train . . . You may say that this is my struggle and I have to get through it myself, but you will never realize how much it means to me to have someone like me despite my faults, to support me through thick and thin, to be excited to see me and ask me what I did that day, to HOLD me when I feel like the world is falling apart. And without that support, I feel broken.

And my health issues have continued, if not worsened (in some cases). The local pharmacists recognize me when I go there, and I even got a "prize" one day because I spent so much. But why do so many doctors' efforts not seem to be helping? (And don't you dare say it's because the doctors here aren't good. That's not true!)

So when people ask me if I'm studying, I honestly have to say no. And when they ask what I'm doing now, I have no idea what to say. They expect a description of a fabulous post-graduate position or a commiseratable entry-level job. Months have gone by and I can't seriously say that I've been doing any one thing, but every day is somehow full. Yesterday, as I was feeling disappointed in myself, I thought back to the last month and I have done a lot of good things. They just don't happen to bring me money. (Oh, how I wish they did! Why can't you always make money from the things you love to do that don't stress you out?)

So because of the lonely-among-people syndrome and the difficult-to-ask questions people love to ask, I avoid the kitchen or the stairwell when people are there. I escape from activities as soon as possible, if I can even get myself to go.

But the truth is, this break is doing me a lot of good. I'm getting things done I've wanted to do for a long time, I have time to breathe, I have time to go to the doctor and get the help I need, I have time to read some nice books, to make some lovely crafts, and to go for walks in the park. I even get extra naps during those sleepy times that I always had to fight through at work.

But this current lifestyle can't be all worry-free and therapeutic. There's this part of me that judges me the way other people probably do. I see myself as lazy and disappointing because I'm not employed and contributing to society or working toward those goals. All those things we've been taught--don't be in debt, work hard, be self-reliant . . . GUILT! Guilt that I'm doing something that makes me happy (or at least less stressed) but is not productive or self-supportive. And as I discussed with a neighbor the other day, when you have a job, you need or wish you had more time. And when you don't have a job but have time, you need or wish you had more money. The extraordinary role money plays in life also terrifies me.

But there are so many questions. Why look for a 20-hour-a-week job when I might have to immediately quit and look for a full-time job? Am I healthy enough to work again? What if I start a job now and immediately lose all the progress I've made in the last few months so I have to quit and start over? (This absolutely terrifies and paralyzes me.) If I don't get a job, how will I support myself when my money runs out? And what kind of job do I want anyway? Should I aim for the goals I used to have but that seem to have dwindled to flittery memories? And where? Should I stay in Leipzig? What is keeping me here now? Will I ever see my Leipzig friends again? Will they even notice when I'm gone? Will they miss me? But if I leave, I won't have health insurance and what will I do then? Even if I am able to get insurance elsewhere, I'd have to find all the right doctors again and possibly start new medications, etc., so wouldn't it be more wise to stay here until things are looking up? What if things never look up because what I really need is family or a man to love me? Why can't I find anyone to be my family so I can stay where I love it? What if I end up being a burden to someone? Where can I find my dream man so I can also have someone to come home to? If my last boyfriend couldn't come to terms with me, how can I come to terms with myself, and how will anyone else ever be able to do so? Isn't nine years of dating enough? Please? Why do dogs have to be so expensive?

I'm in limbo. I was going to go to Switzerland anyway for a short while just to have some peace and quiet and beautiful Swiss mountain air. But every day, every hour, every minute, my ideas change. Or I just pretend like none of this is happening. When people ask me if I can do something next week, I don't know if I'll be here. And my decision-making skills have disappeared completely. I am frozen between a million decisions, and many of them cost money. One by one, they will decide themselves, and not always with the best results. In a few months, I won't have a visa anymore. Then I won't have any money any more. Then I can't go to the doctor anymore. Etc.

My health issues and possibly some medicinal side effects make a lot of things more difficult. For example, my thoughts skip around so quickly (and they don't get much air). My body is tired while my insides are whirring, meaning I jump from activity to activity until I get tired out. I'll be in the middle of reading an email and I'll jump up to find some chocolate, then check out my skin in the mirror, then realize I need to clip my nails, then decide to make some tea and while the water's cooking I'll forget about it when I look at my to-do list and so on. At some point, I come back to my email and finish reading it. But answering it? You may have to forget it. Sometimes it seems to take so. much. effort to pour out my thoughts and current news into an email. And who likes an email where all you can report is that you made some good food and had a nice nap and read an interesting book? The major conflict is so huge that it's not even worth bringing up in an email. But when I'm at home, I can be distracted and have my bad days when I read a book all day and avoid the phone.

The nine hours of sleep that used to be enough for me are not enough. I need more, always more. And I feel like every day I could make some progress as soon as I can catch up on sleep. But that doesn't seem to be possible. At least I have the most interesting and realistic dreams. But they leave me having weird deja vu feelings during the day--I often puzzle over if something really happened or if I just dreamed it.

All this leaves me, like I said, in limbo. I realize many of you probably want me to dish out some ideas on how you can help. Sorry, no can do (unless you are one of my leaders and receive some very personal, very verified revelation on who I should marry and can introduce me to him, ha ha, a little). I'm clueless about how to help me be happy and loved and at the same time be productive and have enough money.

Well. I have no idea how to conclude, so I'll leave it at that.


A congratulations to all you hardcore friends who made it through this whole post.

And a summary for all those who didn't:

• Because my health is bad and because of visa issues, I can't really work at the moment.
• I feel guilty that I'm not contributing to society and I worry about money, but this "free" time does me good . . . until I think about being guilty and needing money again, which brings up so many questions and worries that I am absolutely paralyzed.
• I wish I had some very personal support.

Ideas? Well-wishes? Complaints? Probably not. I've probably lost you all in the last several months. For that I'm sorry. But at least it's nice to get it all out.

Jonathan Carroll Quotation

CarrollBlog 5.27

Not having seen each other in years, they met one day by chance and had a nice but superficial conversation on the street. Both knew there was so much more that could have been said but it wasn’t because once *those* floodgates were opened, who knows what might have happened. When they were saying good bye, he reached in his pocket and brought out a roller ball pen. Taking her hand, he turned it over and writing something on her palm, told her not to look until later. When he was finished he closed her fingers over what he’d written, kissed her on the cheek and walked away. Of course he must have known she would look immediately at her hand. There were seven numbers, seven very familiar numbers. But it took her a moment to realize why they were familiar: it was her old telephone number from back when they were together. These thousands of days later, he had remembered.

I still remember my first boyfriend's phone number. Do you?

Winter Strawberries (Don't Worry, Not Another Gardening Fiasco)

Yesterday, I bought strawberries. Remember, yesterday was the second of June. When I told a friend about it later, he said, "Why did you buy strawberries in the middle of winter?"

Now you know why I was so glad to have really warm weather today. People can go on and on about how much they sweated and such, but I almost always think warmer is better. Here it is nearly summer and we've all been talking about how the weather was November-ish: cold rain, overcast skies, icy wind.

But, I hear it's still snowing in certain other parts of the world . . .

Swiss Hut

I'm pretty sure this is what I've been dreaming of:















(Switzerland, mountains, a comfy hermit hut, a pet--Bernese Mountain Dog, to be more exact . . .)