Close Family

Katherine Eltsina (not her real name) is a woman with extensive worldly experience. She is one of the few people I have talked to about job opportunities to casually consider flying to Spain or Canada if it meant finding a job or internship that would be a good stepping stone into the field of behavioral psychology. She drew the line at Austria though, apparently spiders the size of dinner plates are not her thing. “My father said to me, he’ll never visit me if I moved to Australia!”

In the end, it wouldn’t matter much because Katherine does most of the visiting as far as family is concerned. If someone asked her about her family she would say that she is “Russian, a Russian German, which means that my family is pretty big.” While Katharine has a small nuclear family comprised of only her father, her mother, and herself, her mother alone has forty cousins. They “don’t live close” but they are “warm” and when they all get together it is quite an event.

Even though her nuclear family is very small, Katherine feels that it is “perfect” the way it is. Katherine’s mother and father are only twenty years old than she is. They grew up with her and she can she her own influence in their development. Older parents are somewhat set in their ways, they cannot be changed or influenced as much. The experience of growing and changing together has lead Katherine’s family to become “very very close.” For example, Katherine often shops with her mom, suggesting clothes which gives her mother a youthful look.

Katherine has an unusual mother daughter. “You know how kids will say “I want that” and the mother will do it, that doesn’t happen in my family.” To clarify, one day after Katherine’s mother did something for her like maybe cook for her or do her laundry, Katherine told her “I didn’t ask you to do it.” Afterward, Katherine’s mother didn’t automatically do the traditional motherly tasks because she no longer was obligated to do them. So whenever she or Katherine do something for each other, and whenever they say thank you “it really shows appreciation” and that they really “value” each other’s actions more so than other mothers and daughters.

As a little girl, Katherine would sometimes come home and cook for her mother who would be tired in the mid day. It is only now when Katherine goes home to visit does her mother cook three times a day. Every day there is a “splendus meal.” Katherine doesn’t know if her mother and father are happier “because (she’s) come back or because of the food.”

As she has left her home in Germany, traveled, and led her busy life style, when she goes home, she finds that she is content to spend most of her time resting at home with her family. Her friends may come over, her boyfriend Victor may beg to go out and do something but Katherine just enjoys spending her two week vacations at home with her parents and rest.

Why Some People Like Sign Language

Since I didn’t have time to take a trip on the bus before my blog was due in, I decided to go to the UC during my lunch break and try to find a good table to eaves drop on.

After awkwardly drifting from table to table, trying to find a discussion engaging enough to convince me to make like a snoop and stake it out I was drawn to a boisterous bunch sitting across from the UC Bistro. While there were five at the table, three people really seemed to be dominating the conversation while the others listened in while eating their food.

As I sat down across from them and turned on my recording device. One of the gabbing members, a tall man in a goofy hat, started to make arm gestures at another man who stood in front of the table, tall and lean, almost as if he was passing through and had not yet been convinced to sit down or move on.

“This is, hey” “Tell me if you know what this sign language is” asked Hat Man as he tapped his right fingers against his chest before he waved his left and right arms around his body.

“Uuh me? I’m not sure” Lean Man said quickly, giving up.

Then a blond headed bespectacled woman looked up from her computer to see what all the fuss was about and responded “He’s like I…its, that’s not even real sign language.”

“Yeah it is” said Hat Man resolutely.

“Not it’s not the” Blondie began but Hat Man started to slowly translate “I…Saw…” like a teacher leading a student through.

Blondie picked up and finished the translation: “Big Fucking Shark” with Hat Man simultaneously.

Lean Man then inquisitively chimed in “Wait, what’s fucking?”

“No in the, that’s not a real sign” said Blondie trying to explain as Hat Man burst out laughing.

“This is” she said as she brought her knuckles together and touched her thumbs together and began to move them as if they were pushing against them.

“Ohh” said Lean Man, “That makes sense.” It made sense to me two, the two hands looked like they could represent lovers of some sort but who am I to know.

Hat Man began to make new motions, pointing at himself, his chest, his eyes, waving his arms all around and clapping his hands together in a horizontal fashion while waving his thumbs around.

“I Saw Two Turtles Fucking” he said before laughing boisterously.

“It’s funny,” Blondie began “because if you say fail, like you got a failing grade it’s this.” I can only guess she was responding to one of the bizarre hand gestures Hat Man made.

“This is…” Lean Man began to ask, feeling out the gesture he was shown so he could understand what was going on. He was as lost as I was.

Blondie began held up her left palm and began to bounce her curiously shaped right fist against it. “This means you fail all the time”
“But this is an F?” Blondie asked one of the girls silently eating and observing, checking herself.

“Yeah” replied the Observer as Blondie turned back to lean man, “this is an F”

“So” Hat Man said as he too formed a vertical open palm and readied his right fist. “If your failing your only three fingers away from saying anal sex?” He said, smiling as he made an “O” out of his fist and repeatedly bounced his fist against his open palm.

Blondie, immediately clasped her hands against her face, her eyes mortified.
“YES!” Hat Man roared, “hahaha!”

“You…” Blondie squeaked “it’s been a solid week since I...”

“YAAAAY!” Hat Man bellowed.

“...Since I made the face…” Blondie uttered.

“It’s been a solid week since I’ve seen you,” Hat Man causally stated.

Lean Man began to chime in “Yeah, I remember, and Becky kinda made you do it a second ago with the whole senior thesis thing.”

“Ok, ok so I have, I really have to go so” Hat Man began to cautiously state.

“Okay” said Blondie, her focus still on Lean Man, “but the face is different like senior thesis oh my god I’m going to die and wow that’s really creepy you just broke my brain.”

“Hahaha! I guess that is true” Laughed Lean Man as Blondie then turned to Hat Man and implored him not to leave.

I think I should learn more sign language, think of all the fun that could be had at parties!

The Unicyclist

As I walked up the middle of the stair case leading to my residence hall, swaying and working to keep my balance in the dark, I looked towards the field to my left and saw a man riding on an enormous unicycle with a smaller unicycle in his hands.

I then ran up the stairs and then across the field to greet him, “unicycles huh?” The man laughed as he pulled up to his residence hall and dismounted, “yeah, would you like to try?” To which I responded, “sure.”

He lead me to his room explaining that it is easiest to learn how to begin by using the door frame as for balance as you mount the cycle. It was then that I decided to introduce myself and ask the man if he would be interested in talking to me about himself for the present writing project to which he accepted, unsurprisingly curious as to where a conversation about himself would go. He introduced himself as Gunthery, another student of Pacific University.

“So when did you get into unicycles,” I asked while pulling myself up his door with one unsteady hand after another to find myself in a balanced position on his cycle. He told me that he saw one in a store one he was around nine years old and the unusualness of it appealed to him.

We both talked at length on how people seem to get wrapped up in a routine of working, eating, walking and crumbling into their couches to turn on the tube. Always ruminating as they stare down through their feet and the stone beneath it, “never taking the time to look up and gaze through the glimmering tree branches above them.”

Gunthery said that this was one of the reasons unicycling appealed to him. It was one thing he could do to go beyond the routine. It was something that brought him outside to look at and enjoy the world and gave him opportunities for new experiences. Thus, he always tries to set aside a little time to roll outside and do something more meaningful or adventurous.

Also he rides to put forth an example. Showing everyone something new, a fun activity which could bring people out of their hovels and live a little on their off time. “Plus it’s a really fun way to get around,” he said, watching me as I began to continuously balance myself on the unicycle for a few seconds before my hands darted back to the rock solid doorway.

“Oh course,” he started “I’m a bit hypocritical. I mean I spend time watching tv and anime and stuff” “Aren’t we all?” I responded. He complimented me for my ability to balance in such a short amount of time and suggested I try to ride down the hallway but I figured it would be best to save that for another time.

After talking about some of the anime we liked and showing each other our DVD collections, we went our separate ways and I sat down to work on my essay. Now as I work on it, I find myself wondering if I have any time to visit and practice on the unicycle after my choir rehearsal is over.

Hi, I’m a Doorman

Whenever I leave my room, go to class, travel, or wander around, I always look back to see if anyone is behind me as I walk through a door. If there are people, it seems all too easy to hold the door and let them pass. It requires hardly any energy and the loss of time is something that can easily be overcome with a brisk stroll or a light jog. It seems like a nice thing that I am capable of doing for people and so I do it. Yet it confuses me how people continue to react to my door holding.

After I held the door open for her and we were walking back to our dorms, a friend once told me how much she appreciated my holding the door for her and how she was disappointed in our other class mates who “never say thank you” to me. I was thankful but up until that point I never really noticed or cared what people said. It was only after that conversation that I began to make note of people who did and did not say thank you. Even then, it was never something I made a judgment on.

Last year, there was another girl in my dorm who I begin to notice because whenever she saw me, she smiled. I was and still am nervous around women and so I never was able to really talk to her. I didn’t understand why she seemed to react to me. On the Halloween of that year she and her friends dropped by my room and asked if any of my roommates wanted to join their group and go to a party, on a whim I decided to go along. I thanked the group for letting me come along since I wasn’t as popular as my roommates. The smiling girl immediately responded “no not at all Weston, I mean you’re so nice! Always saying hi to people and holding doors for people. Far as I’m concerned you’re the coolest guy in the bro quad.” I was surprised, happy, and at a loss of words at this needless to say.

Don’t get me wrong, I do consider myself to be a nice person and I want that quality to be noticed by attractive girls but I didn’t feel like I did anything deserving of such praise. I just don’t feel that actions so small and ordinary are worthy of recognition. Her admiration would make more sense to me if I was already friends with the girl or if the opportune moment came where I was really able to do something for her.

Holding doors for people is just such a small and habitual expenditure for me; I don’t see how it could merit attention. Sometimes I hold a door for a person with crutches, someone who is carrying something, or sometimes I start walking away and then notice I didn’t see someone behind me and run back to open the door for people. These are cases where I’m really helping someone or going out of my way for people because I really feel that I should.

I always felt that my habit of holding doors was natural and that many people do it but since people have pointed out my habit, I have noticed that I am one of the few who is willing to hold a door open until thirty people leave a room before I feel my work is done. I still feel that my habit is natural and I don’t hold others to my standard. As far as door holding is concerned, I don’t even think my higher standards make me better than others. All this attention makes me wonder where I picked up my habit in the first place and to this day I still don’t remember where.

Despite my questions surrounding my habit, I have chosen to stop thinking about it because I consider it to be simple task. I never know how to properly react to those who pass through a door I’m holding open or those who say thank you. Can I look at them, should I look down, what do I say as they thank me? I always thank those who thank me for doing what is ordinary and ask myself these questions.

Door holding is a nice action but I never quite understood what people saw in my doing it. Logically, I would assume that my lack of understanding is part of the kindness in my habit. I’m doing something just because I believe it is nice and I don’t expect anything from it since I consider it to be something people should expect from others. After writing this out I can only imagine what people must think as I thank them for thanking me for holding a door for them. I still don’t understand it on a personal level but I suppose I can accept that.