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Post #51: A Cultural Disconnect

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Post #51: A Cultural Disconnect.


I feel like I give a lot of myself to people and I don’t feel like I am getting what I need back from them. Partly, I believe the disconnect is cultural. It is hard for me as an Australian to say directly to someone, “Hey mate, I want this [from you]”. We Australians do this dance where we try to be as explicit as possible without actually saying the words. And then we get disappointed when we don’t get what we need or want. It makes no sense, but it’s just what we do.

As an Australians in business over here in the US, it can make for some pretty arresting experiences. Aussies have many more similarities with the English in the way in which we conduct our business, and that’s to be expected. But people here in the US can be so… forthright. And even after a few years, I still find it confronting. Americans, generally, come across as being more arrogant than the biggest knobs you know down the pub. But you know what? They’re not all talk, like the knobs down the pub. Channeling the American arrogance really works to your advantage in some situations.

Take the conversation I had the other day with the American about asking your Twitter followers for retweets. I cringe whenever I see the lame “can I get a RT?” because I think it’s:

  1. rude
  2. pushy
  3. impolite

And you can quote me on that.

But then the American pinpointed the fundamental truth of American culture:

“How will people know what you want if you don’t ask for it?”

Oh touche, American.

How do we get what we want when we make a song and dance about it, but don’t actually ask for it? At home, we are cut down by our fellow men and women for having the balls to speak up. So none of us speak up, lest we get too big for our boots. But then we whinge to high heaven when we’re dissatisfied.

Perhaps this is part of what is holding me back in being able to verbalise what I want from my life with the person that is nearest and dearest to me.

***

Welcome to the fifty-first post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
At least three days a week until the end of the year, I will post about a topic of choice. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone.
If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com

Post #50: Thank You!

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Post #50: Thank You!


So this is the 50th post of the Great Writing Challenge 2012. For those of you who are regulars to this site, you will have noticed that I’ve been stuck on the 49th post for about a fortnight. Had a bit of a freak out about it, but then I realized that I freak out about numbers and failing and whole host of other strange nonsense, and so I just stopped procrastinating and moved on.

Fifty posts. It’s an achievement and I am going to bask in the sunshine of the achievement for a moment.
Ah, that’s brilliant.

I want to acknowledge just how much of a focus the Great Writing project 2012 has given me and how much I put into writing these posts. So many people have encouraged me along the way – even people I don’t personally know – and I am truly grateful for your support. I am also proud of achieving something I set out to do. I love writing, and it’s my life.

Thank you!

[Source]

Since the meltdown in Bilbao shortly before Christmas, I have come far. I stood up and said that I would do something. And the person I want to thank specifically is the American. He’s like a wise old owl that knows exactly what to say, even if I don’t want to hear it. He challenges me to be the best I can be, and I hope I do as good a job doing the same for him. I am super lucky the stars aligned. And I love Bilbao more than you could imagine for the perfect storm that made me face my fears.

With the Great Writing Challenge 2012, I also feel misplaced guilt about the fact that there have been a few weeks that have passed without a post, and I promised five. Or that sometimes, I really thought what I ended up putting out was bollocks. But you know what? Life happens. I have a full-time job (which winds up being so much more than full-time), and this is just one of my extra-curricular activities. And oftentimes, I try so hard that I burn out. Sometimes, I just need some time to myself, which can be very tricky in less than 375 square feet.

Life happens.

[Source]

For some reason (and perhaps it has something to do with having my name on this blog), I strive for perfection. In other aspects of my life, that’s not the way I operate at all. As it pertains to my writing, I am learning to be less precious about it. Sometimes, you just have to do it, even if what you produce is not going to win you a Pulitzer. It’s time to banish those feelings of guilt for ‘phoning things in’. It’s not the end of the world. This is the discipline part I am still working through, as you can see…

I have really enjoyed this writing experience, so I am going to extend the Great Writing Challenge until the end of the year. To ease the inner-guilt, I am going to alter it slightly from five posts a week to at least three. A happy medium for all.

One of the things I will try to improve on as I continue with the Great Writing Challenge 2012 is to actively comment on other people’s work in the blogosphere. It’s so important to engage with people, to give feedback. I have valued every one of the comments on my writing, both good and bad. It’s such a thrill when I get the ‘you have a comment’ email from WordPress. It’s a thrill to provoke interest and opinions in others.

Who knows what the next six months hold for me? But I am so glad that you’re along for the ride.

***

Welcome to the fiftieth post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
At least three days a week until the end of the year, I will post about a topic of choice. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone.
If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com.


Post #49: Only in San Francisco…

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Post #49: Only in San Francisco.


Ah, San Francisco. You’re a city of such contrasts.

Riding BART to work last week, I noticed a woman buttoning up her jeans as she stood next to me. As you do. She had make-shift grillz and asked me for money. I gave her my usual response. She pushed on to the next carriage and left a parting gift of urine that snaked its way down the carriage floor to pool at my feet.

On Sunday, the Canadian and I were afforded one of the most ‘San Francisco’ days either of us have ever experienced.

Sweet potato tart with eggs, fruit and biscuits at Dottie’s. YUM!

Dottie’s True Blue Cafe is renown as the best brekkie in town and lines are usually over an hour long. They recently moved from the Tenderloin, to SoMa. And SoMa is obviously short for ‘So Much Worse than the Tenderloin’.

So there we were outside Dottie’s new location on Sixth, minding our business camouflaged in a line of about thirty hipsters. Residents in the SRO opposite kept chucking trash out the windows at us. Local types camped out on the fire hydrants, watching us watching them. Then out of nowhere, a homeless bloke (obviously off his meds) bounded up to us. He started SCREAMING at us that we were judging him, and making assumptions about him. He reeked of alcohol and he was just not making any sense. But he didn’t let that didn’t stop him. From one tirade, he launched straight into another. My focus was on his hands – what weapon did he have? – and I was playing out scenarios in my head of how I could disarm him. And then, my wise friend from the prairies said to him, “You know what? You’re right. I apologise.”

Just like that, he stopped. Muttered something, and then walked away. I was in shock. The Canadian saved us! And all it took was an apology. He later returned to accost the group behind us and was none to happy when the hipsters said they planned to pay for their meal by card.

Ambiance outside  – 0/10  (ie get me the hell outta here before I am shot!).

Ambiance inside  – 7/10. Larger than their tenderloin location and faster service.

Food – 9/10. You can’t beat Dottie’s eggs and sourdough toast. Mmmm!

Bourbon Coffee Cake with Cream. Oh yeah.

After brunch, we found ourselves in Union Square, watching the effects of a drum circle on the consciousness of the masses. The event was put on by the Planetary Dancers, a group dedicated to healing the world through the conscious group spirit. Or something. It was SO Granola California and I loved it!

“Every breath, a prayer.
Every breath, a prayer.
Who do you run for?
World peace.
Breathe the wild air!”

I had my camera with me, so I focused on trying to capture some of the energy, love and goodwill that was floating around the square. Particularly after the earlier incident.

The dancers running in circles around the white cheesecloth-wearing drummers.

Breathing the wild air…

World peace.

Flying the flag

Earth Mama and Papa.

Bliss.

After getting our hippie fill, we wandered down to the Ferry Building, and passed blokes dressed as moss. As you do. Nothing is out-of-place in San Francisco!

***

Welcome to the forty-ninth post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
Five days a week for six months, I will be given a topic to write about. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone. If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com.

Post #48: Pancakes

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Post #48: Pancakes.


I am writing an Annual Report. And at the moment, it sometimes feels as though I’m not even present in my own life, but I’m achieving things, so it all evens out. Happy days!

I eat pretty poorly when I am flat chat, so thank christ for Food Dates with the Canadian! Otherwise all of the pictures below would feature pancakes and poppy-seed bagels.

So here’s my week in food:

When I can’t decide what to make for dinner (or I just can’t be arsed), I opt for pancakes. Currently, we’re on a Krusteaz Blueberry craze. And they taste so much better when you add food coloring. If I had my way, I’d eat breakfast for all my meals. And, yes, I am six years old.

Version 1: Green Blueberry Pancakes.

They just taste better.

Version 2: Pink Blueberry Pancakes

And yes, Mum. I’m taking my vitamins!

Tasty Wasabi Tofu Curry with a side of black rice from my new local, the Unicorn. If I were all about using ridonkulous words, ‘amazeballs’ would be my word of choice for this dish. But I am not, and I don’t. So it’s just damn tasty. YUM!

The Unicorn is my new favourite place…

Last weekend, the Canadian and I enjoyed a culinary walkabout in the Inner Richmond. Did you know the area is actually named for Richmond in Melbourne? True story.

Rainbow Salad at Burma Superstar. Inner Richmond, SF.


Burma Superstar was pretty good. The Tofu Tower was really tasty, the Rainbow Salad was good, and the tofu curry left much to be desired.

Tofu Tower: two thumbs up.

Just down the road, we stumbled upon an amazing bakery: Schubert’s. Before we had even walked through the door, we’d gotten the low down from an exiting customer on his ‘to die for’ list. By the time we left, we were doing the same.

Cranberry and Almond Coffee Cake, Schubert’s Bakery. Inner Richmond, SF.

So. What’s in your belly?
***

Welcome to the forty-eighth post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
Five days a week for six months, I will be given a topic to write about. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone. If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com.

Post #47: This Is Hardcore.

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Post #47: This is Hardcore.


Last night, the American and I went to see Pulp at the Warfield. I’d never been to the venue before, and it’s a little bigger than the Enmore Theatre in Sydney and a little more run down. Just the way I like it.

I was a Pulp fan as a teen, growing up awkward in suburban Sydney. And seeing them live was pure and heavenly and indescribable. Here’s a review of the gig, because I can only use superlatives right now (and that can get a little tiresome).

PULP! PULP! PULP!

The vibe in the Warfield was incredible, and I consciously soaked up every moment of the gig. Pulp sounded amazing live. And Jarvis Cocker? YES.

My memories evoke a physical sensation on my skin, and the closest I have ever come to feeling it in real life is swimming in a geothermal pool. I spent much of last night feeling that same sensation. Whenever I hear ‘Disco 2000’, it takes me back to 1995/1996. It’s such a trip to have a memory bank from that long ago, and it feels like yesterday… Back then, I thought the year 2000 was The Future. I had so much yet to experience, and was impatient for all of it.

Not much has changed. I’m still as impatient as ever.
And I still love Pulp.

I was so fortunate to have the means and opportunity to see Pulp this time around.

***

Welcome to the forty-seventh post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
Five days a week for six months, I will be given a topic to write about. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone. If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com.

Post #46: Friendship

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Post #46: Friendship.


A friend of mine is having a pretty tough time right now. She could have cancelled our plans to meet up for drinks on Friday night, but she didn’t. Instead, we found this small, quiet downtown bar and set about dissecting the problem and weighing up the options.

I really felt for her. There have been plenty of times when I have been in her shoes, and everything looks so dire. And no doubt there will be plenty more. I was just happy she stuck around to talk to me about it.

On my way to meet her, I had just finished a section on shame in Dr Brene Brown’s book ‘The Gifts of Imperfection’. These words were bouncing around my head, and then she said the magic words: ‘I’m just so embarrassed’.

According to Dr Brown,

Shame needs three things to grow out of control in our lives: secrecy, silence, and judgement. When something shaming happens and we keep it locked up, it festers and grows. It consumes us… Shame loses its power when it is spoken.

It was powerful to walk into this situation knowing that. So I asked her some tough questions about the source of her shame, about the problems she was having and about the choices she has to make. We ended up having an empowering conversation, tackling the issues head on and removing the stigma of shame that hovered over the issue like a black cloud. I tried my best to give her some perspective, to help her ask some of the tough questions and gave her some positive reinforcement. She is so very talented, and this may well be her opportunity to start something else. I have every faith in her.

Her reaching out to me meant more than she could imagine, because that sense of connection here is something I feel I have been lacking. I love being there for my friends, and I feel so grateful for their love and guidance in return. Yet there’s a very big part of me that is always pulling me away to from wherever I am — to the next move, the next city, the next life. Maybe I should be consciously investing more of myself here than I previously have been.

***

Welcome to the forty-sixth post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012.
Five days a week for six months, I will be given a topic to write about. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone. If you would like to suggest topics for me to write about, please email me at TheRebeccaProject [at] gmail [dot] com.