Weekend Reader - 8/14/15

It's been another fun, busy week here in Taipei! With less commitments on my plate this year, I'm actually finding the time to adjust to our home and city while also doing a little blogging! 

Next week is our anniversary. Last year, we were jet-lagged and exhausted. I'm not sure we did anything to celebrate. This year, I want to do better. I'm not sure where to start though. Anyone have any fun, simple anniversary ideas?

Well, without further ado, here are a few posts that intrigued me on the interwebs this past week. 

Photo Credit

• What are your upstairs neighbors really doing? I've watched this video several times already and still can't stop laughing.
• These mystery photos found while thrifting are absolutely lovely! The girl with the blue dress is my new fashion heroine. Can I be her, please?
• I'm loving these Wardrobe Architect posts over at Colette Patterns. Can't wait till I have a sewing machine again!
• Elegant Musings is the first sewing/fashion blog that I started following way back when. I'm so happy to see that she has some recent posts up on her new blog. Congratulations on the European move, Casey!
• I just recently discovered Sew Over It's patterns. Has anyone tried these? The Anderson blouse is quite lovely. 
• I really enjoyed this post by Shaye on feeling beautiful.

Photo Credit

Well, that's all for now. Enjoy and have a lovely weekend!

More London Sightseeing

More photos to share from our jet-lagged day in London!

UK Adventures - Getting There and London Sightseeing

I started a blogpost detailing the first leg of our trip to the UK over a month ago. I did my normal routine and never posted it. Here it is. Stay tuned for more details to come!

I'm not usually one for giving a rundown of my daily actions, but I realized that some friends and family might be interested in our doings. So, for their sakes, here it is. To everyone else, I apologize for the boring blogpost. 

Waiting for the taxi to take us to the airport in Taipei

Getting To London

It took us 24 hours just to get to London. First, there was a 2-hour flight to Shanghai and a 4-hour layover. Next, We needed to fly to Paris. That took 12 hours and another 4-hour layover in Paris. Finally, we hopped on British Airways (a beacon of civility and deliciously strong tea) and made the short journey (just over an hour) to London.  

Layover in Paris

London

We set down in London shortly after 11. After making our way through customs and baggage, we jumped on the Piccadilly line to Kings Cross where our hotel, The Alhambra, was located. 

The Alhambra Hotel, by the way, is lovely, small but clean hotel that I would recommend to anyone traveling to London.

The view from our hotel room

After a wardrobe change and an attempt at a quick nap, neither of us could fall asleep, we went out for some rather jetlagged sightseeing. I can't say I remember much of what I saw beyond the fact that it included the Thames, the Millennium Bridge, a lovely little market, and a delicious venison pie. 

The Globe

We ended our first day in London with a play at The Globe, the model of Shakespeare's original theatre. They did a fantastic performance of King John, a little known but culturally relevant play about political machinations and the devastation of power struggles and war. Standing in the groundlings near the stage costs just 5 pounds. It's well worth the experience. You can reach out and touch the stage and the actors even interact with the audience in the groundlings. However, you might want to be operating on a bit more sleep than we were. Standing for 2 or 3 hours can take it's toll even when you are wide awake, let alone after travelling for 24 hours. The hubby's knee was swollen quite badly afterward.

Sadly, we were both so exhausted that we didn't even bother taking pictures.

Seeing the Sights

The next day included a walking tour of the major sights--St. Paul's Cathedral, royal parks, the changing of the guard at Buckingham, Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster, countless statues, and many more sights than my tired brain could barely process. The hubby kept taking pictures. By the end, I was making faces instead of smiling for the camera.

Off to Edinburgh

Finally, we jumped back on the Piccadilly line and headed to our red eye for Edinburgh. One flight and two connecting bus rides later and we dragged ourselves into our flat here at 2 am, ready for sleep, sleep, and more sleep. I think it took us about a week to wake up!

Well, that's all for now! Cheers!

Stay tuned for more overdue updates of our UK adventures.

Teacher's Day Off (A Chicwish Review)

I made the decision recently to finally start blogging more frequently. Alas, my best intentions gang aft agley. To make a long story short, over the course of the last few months, our cameras and phones have been biting the dust one at a time. Up until this evening, we were down to the camera on our iPad.

Despite that, I soldiered on and put together this Chicwish review.

I discovered Chicwish from Rebecca over at The Clothes Horse. I was a bit wary of trying a new company after a very bad online retail experience recently; however, their good reviews, a 30% introductory coupon, and their (get this) free international shipping sealed the deal for me.

I ordered two skirts from them. Today, I'll be reviewing this cute little jean number. It's the "high-rise, a-line denim skirt" (no longer available). I didn't used to be much of a a-line skirt girl, but I've fallen in love with the look recently. Perhaps it's Tilly's adorable Delphine pattern that started it. Honestly, it probably is. I can't wait till I have a sewing machine again and can make it. Until then, I'll have to content myself with this skirt!

It's an easy skirt to content myself with. I love it. In fact I'm wearing it right now as I type up this blogpost. It did arrive with one little quirk. The buttonholes weren't cut out. This took only a minute for me to deal with; however, it was a bit strange!

Besides that, my ordering experience was great. They were quick to respond to questions, went above and beyond when I contacted them with a concern, and kept in contact during the delivery of my order.

The skirt in question is perfect for my days off from teaching: cute and comfy.

Many of the Chicwish styles aren't quite my personal cup of tea. They also use a lot of synthetic fibers. I prefer natural fibers. (Thankfully this skirt is cotton.) For those two reasons, I can't see myself ordering too frequently from them, but I'm definitely considering another order at some point!

Outfit Details:

Sweater: LL Bean Signature Collection

Tee: Net Fashion, Taiwan

Skirt: Chicwish

This post contains affiliate links.

The Irony of My Blogging

I've been thinking lately about the irony of my blogging. I crave anonymity, but I publish my thoughts and pictures on a platform accessible to anyone with a computer and internet connection.

I've always loved the anonymity of this photo. Just my chin and a sweater. Photo courtesy of Carrie Hogue.

Case in point, a few weeks ago I discovered some reviews (here and here) I'd written were easily accessible by keyword search. I felt a mixture of emotions: elation and frustration. I was elated that my blog was finding traction but frustrated that my invisible presence on the web had ended.

A photo from one of my reviews

The irony is, of course, if I really want to be anonymous, why am I blogging? I haven't found the answer to that question, but I think it lies in the "Why" behind my writing. I write to learn myself. I write to understand myself. Consequently, it's in writing that I'm the least concerned with anonymity. Logically, I have to know me to understand me. Anonymity from myself isn't an option. The question still remains, though. Why do I then share that writing with others?

On that note, let's end quite abruptly with a poem by Emily Dickinson.

I'm Nobody! Who are you?

I'm Nobody! Who are you?

Are you –– Nobody –– too?

Then there's a pair of us! 

Don't tell! they'd advertise –– you know!

How dreary –– to be –– Somebody!
How public –– like a Frog ––
To tell one's name –– the livelong June ––
To an admiring Bog! 

Taipei 101 {or A Matter of Perspective}

See that little building in the distance? The one that seems positively dwarfed by the apartment buildings in my complex? Yeah . . . that's the 6th tallest building in the world. Until 2010, it was the tallest building in the world. It has 101 floors. That's about 8 or 9 times more than my apartment building has.

Sometimes it's all a matter of perspective.

I think there's probably a life lesson in there. I'll get back to you once I hash it out.

When I Am Weak

Confession. I wrote this a month ago and was too proud and embarrassed to publish.

So, I moved to Taiwan last month. 

After a summer of silence, I thought it best to cut to the chase and give the most important update first. In the space of a week, the hubby and I interviewed for positions at an international school here, were offered jobs, packed up our entire apartment, and moved to the other side of the world. 

You'd think, after such a drastic life change, that my thoughts would be full of international adventures and profound thoughts on adjusting to new cultures and new ways of living. I do have plenty along those lines to share, but at the moment, my thoughts are full of something else.

Right now, I think of pain. More specifically, I think of these words by Emily Dickinson.

                                         PAIN has an element of blank;
                                         It cannot recollect
                                         When it began, or if there were
                                         A day when it was not.
                               
                                         It has not future but itself,
                                         Its infinite realms contain
                                         Its past, enlightened to perceive
                                         New periods of pain.


The truth is, I can't recollect a day when pain was not part of my life. It begins in the morning when I wake up--brain-fogged, head already aching, muscles and joints crying out as I steel myself for another day. It continues throughout the day until I collapse into a ball of exhaustion. I go to sleep, vainly hoping that rest will heal my body only to wake up again and face another day of pain.

Periods of busyness and change always increase my pain. Moving to Taiwan is no exception. Right now, I spend the better portion of my day wanting to cry in weariness and frustration. I don't want to be this way. It's not a play for attention or an excuse to spend a day relaxing. It never has been, not when the symptoms started in third grade and not now. 

You see, I have what can, at best guess, be called chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia. In simple terms, it means I'm always tired, no matter how much rest I get, and my body's pain receptors work overtime.

I don't write this post as a plea for sympathy. In fact, I'd rather not talk about it. I know hitting publish when I'm finished will take a great deal of bravery. I don't want to have to admit that I'm sick and have been for the better part of 18 years. If I don't tell you, then I don't have to admit it to myself. 

Truth is, I'm ashamed of my pain. Being tired all the time means, in my mind, that I'm weak, lazy, and incompetent. I'm embarrassed to admit that I slept till noon today and then spent the day in bed. At heart, I'm a busy bee morning person. I love getting up before dawn. I'd rather be able to say I conquered the world, or at least my small corner of it, before lunch. 

I know the reactions that come when I admit my weaknesses. There's misunderstanding, confusion. People talk about times they've been tired after staying out dancing or pulling an all-nighter. Other people assume I'm a hypochondriac and my condition could be cured with a good night's rest and an aspirin. 

Of course, these are only some of the reactions. Many other people, are sympathetic and try to understand. But even that reaction bothers me. Their opinion of me changes. Their sympathy makes me uncomfortable. They try to understand but are reacting to a mysterious condition with no obvious physical signs or clearcut causes. It's not a lost limb or a cancer. It's just constant pain and tiredness for no apparent reason. 

I hold nothing against anyone. I get that my weakness is a confusing one. Plus, the truth is, it's nothing compared to amputation or cancer. And really, it's not anyone's business. Why do people need to know? As a northerner, I keep personal information about myself on a need-to-know-basis. This is no exception. 

Why then, am I talking now? There are a couple reasons. For starters, I suppose it's cathartic. I'm tired of being ashamed of my weakness. I don't want to complain it from the rooftops, but I don't want to be embarrassed either. Second, I think one of the most important things about personal painful experiences is the lessons they teach us. Some good things are best when shared. Life lessons are one of those things. 

Today, I've been thinking about Paul's words in Corinthians. He's talking about his thorn in the flesh, his physical weakness: "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong."

I used to think that God's strength being made perfect in my weakness meant that I would somehow be made perfect, not that the weakness would disappear but that I would have supernatural physical strength to achieve great things. Of course, for some people it might mean that, but I took this as a challenge of sorts. I would work multiple jobs, take on heavy course loads at college, and forego sleep because I thought I had to. I thought I had to be not "just like everyone else" but that I had to be better than everyone else. I had to be perfect. 

Paul says God allowed his thorn in the flesh to keep him from being proud. I guess that might be why God allowed mine as well. It reminds me that I'm not perfect. I can't do everything. Even if I were healthy, I couldn't do everything. My weakness just helps remind me how much I owe God.

Of course, sometimes, I try to use my weakness as a secret badge of honor. I think, "Look how much I achieved while being in so much pain!" Thinking this way makes me feel better about being different, being weaker. It's always then, though, that I either collapse in exhaustion or God shows me someone who's weaker than I am but has done so much more than me. 

The Christian life isn't about being perfect or about comparing trials and tribulations like scars from the battlefield. It's about our own relationship with Christ and how that relationship showcases Christ to the world. God's strength being made perfect in weakness doesn't mean that, because I have Christ, I will have the strength to do wonders. It means that I let my weakness teach me how much I need Christ. I am nothing without Christ, just a self-obsessed girl trying to find meaning in her own inner ramblings. God wants me to glory in my weakness not because it makes me great but because it keeps me humble and lets him shine bright.  

With Christ, though, I can let go. I can let go of the need to be perfect. I can let go of the desire to be normal. I can let go of it all. I am sick. That's ok. I am tired. That's ok. I am in pain. That's ok. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's nothing to be proud of, either.

I'm not perfect on the outside or the inside. I have nothing left to prove, nothing left of myself to give. That's ok. I have Christ. When I stop being ashamed or proud and just let myself be weak, my artifices and facades can slip away. When I am weak, he can be strong. 

I started this blog to write about finding beauty in imperfection. I used my freckles as an example of that quest. Since moving to Taiwan, my freckles have been getting even more attention. My kids always want to know why I have so many dots on me. I don't think they find them beautiful. They find them strange. I could let that bother me, but it's ok. I've let go. I don't need to have perfect looks anymore. I'm content.

I'm only now just learning, though, how to be content with my physical weakness. Being weaker and tireder than others isn't so ok with me. I've been the weird one in looks and personality as long as I've been the one with the weird physical weakness. I'm ok with the first two weirdnesses, but I'm still holding onto that last one. 

I think it's time that stopped. I've actually always been able to find beauty in my pain. I've just too often let my shame or pride alternately drown the beauty out. It's time to let go. God's strength, not mine, is made perfect in my weakness. Because of my pain, I'm drawing closer to Christ. I think that's the most beautiful thing of all.