Melbourne: Yeah no. Those aren't life-size kitchen utensils...

Today, I woke up, and told myself that I would be a big girl and go out on the town All. By. My. Self.  I decreed it at 8am, and then hid under my covers until noon. I'm such a wuss.

Upon rising from my mid-morning nap, I finished my second to last bowl of bran cereal with soy milk knowing that my afternoon outing would be quite costly since my food needs and interests are not cheap--ESPECIALLY here in Melbourne.

The night prior, I figured out that I wanted to go to Fitzroy, which is a suburb--more like a very large neighborhood--of Melbourne as it was recommended by an Aussie (pronounced Ozzy) that I met.  It was perfect--lots of local eateries, bookstores, vintage apparel, and such.  I absolutely loved it.  Didn't love the prices though.  I walked into one thinking that if I could find some yellow bubble pants for less than $50, that I'd purchase them.  I'm not exactly sure why this shirt I happened to come across was on CLEARANCE for $200.  I feel like our definitions of "clearance" are incongruous.  I'm not amused.

I thought, "well surely this store is the anomaly." But it was surely not.  All the stores in that area were not sensitive to the needs of the doctoral student budget.  So rude.

I found a restaurant in the area that said it was a "vegetarian cafe." I got super excited and walked in and sat down before looking at the menu.  I was a bit disappointed as they had 3-4 dishes that were veggie-friendly, but not the whole menu.  I did have a tofu patty (paid $7) for a breadless tofu sandwich.  What the heck.  BUT when I tell you the french toast with raspberry compote and banana slices blessed my whole life, you betta' best believe! Normally, I have a fit when wet things touch my dry food, but I embraced my new experience and was quite pleased.

Then I walked a few more blocks and found a LEGIT vegetarian restaurant that had all kinds of hipstery food and drinks.  I was PISSED! I could have tried all kinds of deliciousness and I'll never find that place again! So upset.  I did get a fresh squeezed juice that helped to soothe my anger.

A couple more stops--tried to find a contemporary photography gallery, but it was closed by the time I got there.  Along with the cafe a professor colleague/professor of mine highly recommended.  Welp, guess I'll have to come back to Melbourne one day!

On my way back after 6 hours of exploring the city in two different neighborhoods, I grabbed some Vietnamese Phở  noodle and vegetable soup.  I was quite geeked that I found a vegetarian vietnamese soup as I've never seen a non-beef broth one.  Yay!  They just so happened also to have a very American looking cookie sandwich that was so beautiful and delicious.  I was planning on taking a picture, but the cookie disappeared way too quickly.  Might have to get another tomorrow.

FINALLY made it to the tram and went from stop 5 to 61--takes approximately 867 years.  Two very awkward things happened on the train.  Not sure which is worse?

Awkward situation #1:  Not too many people were on the train when I get to my neighborhood and it is hard to see out of the window for the intersection with the Hungry Jack (Aussie Burger King).  Nervously, I pulled the cord at TWO stops prior to the one I'm supposed to get off on.  So I had to stare at everyone staring at me waiting for me to get off.  After doing this twice, I STILL was one stop early, but decided to save my dignity and walk the extra two blocks.

Awkward situation #2:  If you are my Facebook friend, you know I'm quite educated (finishing up my doctorate degree in May 2014) but am incredibly naive and sheltered which makes for interesting anecdotes.  So on my way back, I was looking out the tram window and saw a shop that had life-size kitchen utensils in the window.  They were huge posters of the utensils in multiple colors--neon green, cute pink, and sapphire blue.  Then they had some on a pedestal with what I thought was entirely too much hype for cookware.  Then I couldn't figure out why they would be selling leggings and stockings and had a female plaster model in the window as well.  After about 27 seconds, it donned on me.

Waaaiiitt a minute...!! Those aren't cute kitchen utensils! Those are..oh my!

What I thought was a store for cooking connoisseurs was definitely a sex shop. Go figure.

'Til later.

Melbourne: Art Confliction

I'm conflicted about this art thing.

Today, I went to an art gallery, and I don't do well in art galleries. I kept meandering through each of the mini-galleries, rooms, and hallways looking at artsy stuff. The more I walked, the more confused and despondent I got. And to make it worse, it was a modern art gallery. Before I walked in, I told myself, "Jenaya, this is an art museum. Make the best of it. Learn something." But my pep talk didn't work. It's not just this one here in Melbourne. It's all art places. They're just so weird to me.  Maybe if I got a modern artist to explain modern art to me, I'd understand it.  Probably not.  And it also didn't help that I didn't read a single placard explaining the work I was supposed to be aw-ing and amazed by.  There just seemed to be too many words on the thing--wasn't 160 characters or less.

AND THEN, I had a baby life crisis in the middle and almost went to go hide in a corner because I started thinking about my life--never a good thing.  I thought about how this whole museum is full of wall after wall and picture after picture of weirdos making weird things and seeing the world from a weird-weirdo perspective.  And then I started thinking about my perspective and how it makes perfect sense to me, but to few others. So then, I thought, maybe if people saw what was in my brain, they'd think it needs to be in a museum--maybe an ART MUSEUM?!?!!! DOES THAT MAKE ME A WEIRDO?

Probably.

Ugh.

As I reflected on this more over my freshly squeezed hipster juice, I thought about how many weirdos there are in the world and how, really, the weirdos are the ones who make the world colorful and interesting to live in.  Like if there were no weirdos, this planet would be monolithic, lackluster, and jejune (yes, I cheated and just my thesaurus app for that word).  So once again, I've reaffirmed that yes, I'm a weirdo. Yes, I'm cool with that.

I did like the interactive exhibits in the museum.  I made a necklace. It is cool. I guess that makes me a 7 year old.

Great.

Now, I'll talk on the other side of my mouth.  Before this whole art museum adventure, I got a bit behind the group cuz I'm always getting distracted.  This super cool Aussie that was maybe mid-50s stopped my friend and I who are both Black and says, "Oh my! You both are absolutely beautiful!"

Now I don't do well with compliments--especially of my physical stature just because......well, just because.  But he was a photographer or at least played one very well since he carried a camera that was the equivalent of 8 months of my rent.  I chatted with him for several minutes and really, sincerely appreciated his comments.  It's something to hear (which doesn't happen often) comments of one's stature from a "Oh girl, you're so sexy/fine/beautiful/etc." in an "I want you" kind of way, but I felt when he told me, that it was from an artistic standpoint.  Like, maybe my body and shape was/is art.  Maybe I am fearfully and wonderfully made by my Creator Jesus. I was very honored and felt like I should think of my actual physical stature differently after this.  Not that I'm beautiful or attractive or pretty or something.  I am art.

This is going to make me put lotion on differently.  I might even shave my legs more than once a month.  Wait, that last part is stretching it. :)

After talking to this guy, I realized that I'm not a hopeless case when it comes to art.  His photography is absolutely stunning and makes me smile.  He told me he specializes in landscape and African wedding photography.  Here's the link!

Long blog short, I'm grateful for the artist.  I still don't understand the strange ones, but know that they have to do and think and reflect on their world--and should be given space and respect in order to do so..just like I have.  All who live and think and interact and breathe and fulfill our purpose are branded "weirdos"--and oft by those who are not doing those things mentioned in the first part of this sentence.

Instead of a weirdo, call me an artist.

Melbourne--Finally!

So basically, I made it to Melbourne, Australia. A few highlights:
1) Sat across the aisle from the Fiji version of my fine for no reason trainer.
2) My ankles and feet are swollen to the size of a 12-month preggo woman.
3) I am officially a die hard tennis fan after seeing the SUPER HOT Australian Open tennis players in the airport.
4) I took a shower in an airport.
5) I saw the island where Castaway was filmed and saw a HORRIFYING sea cucumber.
6) My room has WIFI--and a door that I can close at will. Praise Him.
7) Sand, glitter, and Sexually Transmitted Diseases have a lot in common.

AussieLand Part 1

Well I'm on a plane...again. I'm rather geeked but would rather not be on a plane. I want a superhero cape and maybe an Iron Man suit instead. But until try to make one compatible for my doc-student-budget-crisis, I'll be traveling like regular humans. 

While typing this, I've been thinking about the last time I blogged and it has been at least a year or 2. A brief update, I'm not "newly Master degree'd" as my profile summary says. I'm actually almost "newly Doctor degree'd" now. I'm still single, ugh. I still wear a Fro but it is more ginormous now. And I still travel.

Since it IS the new year and this IS my final semester of school for a long while (at least til my mid-30s), I guess it would be appropriate to blog about things that cross my mind--of which there are many.

I can't promise anything because I do have to write a dissertation which will be a journey. But I'll attempt to have a thought dump here. Feel free to peruse and vicariously live my journey or just creep around and spy. I like both types cuz it reminds me that someone cares about me and thinks I'm cool or something.

So here it begins. Australia, here I come!

My new microbead travel neck pillow

Class Assignment, December 2, 2011 (the day before my 7/12th birthday)

I had to write about the following questions for my doctoral orientation class:
1)  Describe the degree as if it has already been accomplished.
2)  Describe your graduation ceremony.
3) Include emotion, people, and the details that will help to crystallize the vision into reality.
4)  Finally describe what this degree has answered in your life.

Here's what I wrote:

Doctorate Shmoctorate

I have a strong feeling that this degree will be “way too much hype for no applause.”  I imagine myself walking out of my successfully triumphed dissertation defense and the stoplights will still go from green to yellow to red and back to green, the wind will still be blowing, the sun will still be shining, and I’ll still have to push doors open and shut.  What I would like to happen when I graduate are some Aurora Borealis lights with my name in them, a custom made Jacuzzi that I could swim in inside my apartment, zebras to talk to me, and a wedding proposal after which I would pass out with romantic bliss.  However, somehow I really don’t think any of those would happen (although I would REALLY like the latter to and am now taking resumes for that man with exceptional qualities and character).

Anyway.  I digress.

The world will continue and I’ll still be called Jenaya by friends and family, but my resume will have a bit more sparkle.  For my graduation ceremony, I’m not sure how I can top my last one.  For my Master’s, I had a frohawk (hair braided up to a big fancy braid down the middle) which was handcrafted by a very dear and amazing friend of mine, earrings from Costa Rica that my frohawk mastermind brought me from her trip there Summer 2010, black stockings, and a custom designed pair of orange and white striped, Dr. Seuss’ Cat in the Hat emblazoned, high-top Chucks.  It was amazingly epic. 

So for this graduation?  I’ve really no idea.   I’ll start planning my outfit at around month 28 of this program.  I’d like my family members to be here and I’d like a poster made in my honor with glitter.  Lots of glitter.  I’ll probably cry a whole bunch—I’ve never done that at a graduation before.  Then would probably be apropos.  I’ll also completely pay attention in this graduation, but will take pictures of myself on my phone and upload them to FaceBook during the ceremony.  I’d also like to go to a jazz bar to celebrate afterwards and sway to the music and bask in the knowledge that I will never ever, ever, ever, never have to be in another weekend class for 14 hours (not like I don’t like them because I do).

At the end of this, I will have reached my 14-year-old dream of getting my doctorate.  I will officially call myself an adult after this and believe that my life will really truly have “started.”  This is when I’ll be fully confident in who I am and what I’m supposed to do on this planet.  I probably won’t tell many people that if my schooling was a human it would be old enough to drink alcohol or that I’ve had numerous embarrassing meltdowns in Wal-Mart or that I’ve written the equivalent of 3 Harry Potter books worth of academic jargon.  In the end, it’s no big deal.  If Mother Theresa or Mr. Rogers or Jesus had their doctorates, I’m sure they wouldn’t tell anybody either.

At the moment, I don’t even feel righteous enough to be called “Future Dr. Perdue”—I’m sure I’ll gain that righteousness after I pass doctoral comps. 

Ahh yes. 

But for now, I’ll plug on.  I’ll figure out Bowling Green, stay lost in Research Methods, try to figure out who’s who at WKU, find a brilliant dissertation idea, learn how to have colleagues, enjoy new budding friendships, continue to crave Chick-Fil-A’s #1 sandwich with no pickle, and continue to serve humanity.  When it’s all done, I’ll say, “Doctorate Shmoctorate.  I learned a lot, I wrote a lot, I cried a lot.  I’ve been transformed and I’m ready to change the world!”  If you are the same person at the end of the degree as you were in the beginning and you’re not able to inspire post-doctorately, then all your degree is is fire tender and a waste of tree pulp. 

Oh.  Did I mention I’m going to tour Europe for 2 months after I graduate.? Yes.  I’m bringing 1 suitcase, my laptop MacKenzie, a camera, a map to mark big, red X’s through the countries that I have visited, and my passport.

The End.

"7 I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. 8 Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ 9 and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ.[c] For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith. 10 I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, 11 so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead!" Philippians 3:7-11

My First Doctoral Paper, My Favorite Hymn

I just finished writing my first paper of the semester…

And it’s November.

This semester, I’m only take 1 class which is worth about 6 hours.  The head hanchos of the program said with great wisdom and caution that I should just chill out and not over-do it.  It was “vitally important for me to get acclimated to the program.”  So after great deliberation, I decided to heed their advice. 

I’m really grateful I did because teaching this semester has been pretty intense.  Did you know you can’t fall asleep during lectures if you’re the one lecturing?? News flash.

Last semester was the exact opposite of only writing one paper in a semester.  I wrote between 160 and 180 pages of material in 16 weeks.  It kinda makes writing a dissertation not seem so ominous.  Welcome to being an Organizational COMMUNICATION major.  If somebody would have told me that communication degrees mean that you write until your mental and computer hard drives explode, I may have reconsidered.  But what’s done is done.  And nobody can take my degree away from me.

The part that most perplexed me about writing this 1500 word paper was how long it took. THREE DAYS!!! First of all, that would have been unacceptable last semester.  Two, if this paper were due last semester, I would have written it in a couple hours.  Maybe I was nervous and actually proofed it because I want/need to impress my professors or maybe my fingers had scholastic rheumatoid arthritis and writing was just completely unfeasible. 

I don’t know.

I have class this weekend and I’m pretty excited about it.  I don’t feel like it’s class, but more like a conference wnere you just share your opinions, listen to others’ ideas, and sit for a really really really long time. 

I also looked at my upcoming semester and it doesn’t seem like death.  I really think that getting my doctorate won’t be absolutely terrible.  It’ll be difficult, but not deadly.  Thank You, Jesus.

So those are my thoughts for the day.

OH ONE MORE THING!! Shout out to my Savior for bringing back my attendance records for my classes.  Something happened on MacKenzie, my laptop, and I wasn’t able to open my files that had my kiddos’ attendance and extra credit points documented.  It would have taken HOURS to recompense all that data and try to remember where each of my babies have been and why.  I went to go heat up my chili in the main communication office and it “just so happened” that the IT guy for the whole college of arts and letters was fixing a computer.  I demurely asked, “Do you by chance know about Macs?” He said ‘of course’ and I almost shouted and did the Baptist two-step.  How grateful I was for such a diving appointment. 

Jesus has been doing a lot of “just so happened’s” lately and they make me giggle all the time.  I feel like He really does love me a lot and is looking out for me.  I knew that already, but whenever he shows me (which is often) in obvious ways, I know know that and I fall more and more deeply in love with Him.

Let’s sing!

Oh! How I Love Jesus
By:  Frederick Whitfield, 1855

V. 1 
There is a Name I love to hear,

I love to sing its worth;

It sounds like music in my ear,

The sweetest Name on earth.

Refrain
O how I love Jesus,

O how I love Jesus,

O how I love Jesus,

Because He first loved me!

V. 2
It tells me of a Savior’s love,

Who died to set me free;

It tells me of His precious blood,

The sinner’s perfect plea.

V. 3
It tells me of a Father’s smile

Beaming upon His child;

It cheers me through this little while,

Through desert, waste, and wild.

V. 4
It tells me what my Father hath

In store for every day,

And though I tread a darksome path,

Yields sunshine all the way.

V. 5
It tells of One whose loving heart

Can feel my deepest woe;

Who in each sorrow bears

A part that none can bear below.

V. 6
It bids my trembling heart rejoice.

It dries each rising tear.

It tells me, in a “still small voice,”

To trust and never fear.

V. 7
Jesus, the Name I love so well,

The Name I love to hear:

No saint on earth its worth can tell,

No heart conceive how dear.

V. 8
This Name shall shed its fragrance still

Along this thorny road,

Shall sweetly smooth the rugged hill

That leads me up to God.

V. 9
And there with all the blood-bought throng,

From sin and sorrow free,

I’ll sing the new eternal song

Of Jesus’ love for me.

JLP

P.S. I had no idea there were this many verses to this hymn.  I copied them all cuz they’re all great!

Have a blessed one, everybody!