This will end with an explanation of how I nearly caught caused (well, started) a kitchen fire with the microwave and ruined a perfectly good pair of underwear and our trash basket. You can guess. It's going to be pretty anticlimactic, as I already giggled about it all day the day it happened and have pretty much lost the steam to tell it. But here goes:
I met my friend for coffee yesterday and he looked down at my feet and remarked that the combination of my flip flops and bike clips reminded him "of that Train song." Kind of an embarrassing reference for him to make, but I did get it, howling, "she only drinks coffee at midnight... but I drink coffee ALL DAY!" Nerds. Anyway, I don't get it. I never have. It's not a chosen aloofness, a rejection of the norms of style and behavior, I just genuinely can't function in that way. Those girls that you see shivering outside of the bar in December in their tiny clothes-- I would totally be them. I didn't have a moment ever where I looked at hot chicks and said, "well, that looks stupid," it's just so unnatural and foreign to me that I can't even conceive of operating my life like that.
When I was younger, my mom bought us (my siblings and me) a giant trampoline for Christmas one year. My parent's were not wealthy, but Christmas was always a big holiday for us.
So, before I tell you about the beautiful porcelain doll that my grandmother gave me one year (she lost her eyelash, and I was just so upset), let me just wrap up my pleasant trip down memory lane and say that I rarely jumped on that giant trampoline. I was too self conscious to jump on the trampoline. The neighbors could see me, people walking down the street could see me. I didn't want anyone to see me jumping and think I looked stupid.
I'm not sure why that happened. I remember changing schools in 5th grade and going from being a happy little weirdo to being very shy and self conscious. I remember having a clear thought that I needed to change who I had been. I was 10 years old! Anyway, I don't know anything about child psychology, but I'm sure that kind of thing happens. Well, I hope it does. So I spent about a decade being painfully embarrassed at just existing (my description of adolescence) and afraid to do fun, harmless things like jumping on trampolines in my own back yard.
Well now, I often feel like I could very easily be the butt of a joke, but rather than it causing me to shut down I try to embrace it. Or I'm an attention whore. I do like it when people like me, so of course if this story caused people to actively dislike me rather than find me slightly ridiculous I might not share it:
I was getting ready for work. I had not had the time to do laundry for about a week. Even though I suspect there was clean underwear somewhere in the giant heap of clean laundry that permanently rests at the foot of my mattress, I couldn't find any. So I decided to hand wash some and microwave it dry. I totally have microwaved my clothes before (totally. this is totally normal), when I worked at a coffee shop and I didn't realize my work shirt wasn't clean before my shift. So I took the damp underwear, wrapped it in a paper towel (to be considerate of my housemates) and microwaved it for about a minute. They were still damp, so I put the underwear back in the microwave and unthinkingly went upstairs. When I came back downstairs, it was clear that my underwear were ruined. The paper towels looked singed and brown. So I tossed the underwear in the (empty)trash basket and went to brush my teeth. I came back into the kitchen to find smoke coming up from under the sink. The downstairs smelled like burning plastic. My housemates were still asleep, so I had to alert them of the fact that I nearly started a kitchen fire them via text message as I rode the train to work.
I texted my mom what happened and she replied, "you're just like your grandmother!" alluding to the time that my maternal grandmother almost burned down their apartment by putting her girdle in the oven. I told Ish and he called it "some crackhead-ass shit" and I reminded him that my nana had made a similar mistake some thirty years ago, and he maintained that "some crackhead-ass shit" runs in my family.
And that's the story. I really do fear the day when I am no longer young. I suspect that this sort of behavior doesn't age well.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
I'm all grown up
I never want to be a teenager again. Never ever ever. So that's one of the things that I guess I can be grateful about getting older for, unless reincarnation does in fact exist and I am just marching unknowingly to an an unlimited future of teen lives. I'm not sure if that's how reincarnation works, and I realize that the likelihood of my continually experiencing the same bored, privileged, suburban teenage life over and over again is very small... I'm just saying that now that I have lived to be 26, I feel confident that I will make it into old age, unless illness or other malicious forces (not my hand) intervene.
One of the major downers that I recall about being a teenager is the feeling that nobody liked me, except maybe my grandmother (and what was her problem) and a few friends. Accompanying this was loneliness and lack of self worth. I dealt with these feelings in different ways as life progressed: as a kid I read books constantly, when I was a little older it was hours of television, and when I was still a little older I discovered the joys of alcohol. Luckily I didn't become a real drinker until I turned 21, but I got into enough trouble with my parents as a teenager involving alcohol that the level at which I consumed it then was about as damaging to my life as it was when I lived away from home and was legally able to buy it.
When I was a kid I had a huge appetite and a fast metabolism. Puberty was a crushing blow. I gained 20 pounds in less than a year. However, I could not conceive of changing my diet and was accustomed to eating every meal until I felt physically sick or uncomfortable. I remember one day in high school someone brought in donuts for the class. Someone else brought in apples. The really pretty blond girls (who looked like they were 30 rather than 16), ate the apples while I miserably enjoyed the immediate gratification of my donut (I probably ate two).
At some point when I was a teenager, I got the idea that a good way to lose some weight would be continue eating all of the huge servings of food that I was accustomed to for every meal and not exercising, and to somehow force all of those excess calories out of my body. I'm sure had I been another type of person I would have tried starving myself, but that was not the type of quick fix solution I was into. I once wrapped packing tape around my belly as a type of a corset to sleep with, which goes to show you the level of planning and common sense I was employing in my quest. Not only was the packing tape (obviously) ineffective, it was pretty painful to take off.
So for some years I was bulimic. I have to say that it's pretty convenient that this nice medical term exists that veils the inherently disgusting nature of making yourself vomit and abusing laxatives. Add to this that being an incredibly insecure, unhappy person didn't make me super nice to others. My first few boyfriends experienced pretty insane levels of jealousy and anger from me. I once threw an entire smoothie into my ex boyfriend's car.
So, one of the best things that ever happened to me was transferring to college, moving into an apartment with people who became really good friends, and getting a job at a co-op. At school intelligence was really valued, which was not something I recognized much as a teenager. And at work all sorts of people were liked and accepted, and no one was rewarded for being a jerk. I made friends and stopped watching so much t.v. I stopped worrying as much about what I looked like. I gained weight, cut off my hair and was really, really happy. For a few years I did have crazy anxiety about my teeth, sure I was going to lose all of them after mistreating my mouth so much, but eventually I went to a dentist and as far as I know dentures are not in the cards-- yet.
Fast forward a few years later and I'm still ironing out some kinks. I take from those experiences some valuable lessons, and a plan for what I will try to impart to my daughter, if I ever have one. Life is good, I'm okay, and I'm ready for what's coming. Life can be hard enough without being on your own side. Teedle-y-dee, off to work I go!
One of the major downers that I recall about being a teenager is the feeling that nobody liked me, except maybe my grandmother (and what was her problem) and a few friends. Accompanying this was loneliness and lack of self worth. I dealt with these feelings in different ways as life progressed: as a kid I read books constantly, when I was a little older it was hours of television, and when I was still a little older I discovered the joys of alcohol. Luckily I didn't become a real drinker until I turned 21, but I got into enough trouble with my parents as a teenager involving alcohol that the level at which I consumed it then was about as damaging to my life as it was when I lived away from home and was legally able to buy it.
When I was a kid I had a huge appetite and a fast metabolism. Puberty was a crushing blow. I gained 20 pounds in less than a year. However, I could not conceive of changing my diet and was accustomed to eating every meal until I felt physically sick or uncomfortable. I remember one day in high school someone brought in donuts for the class. Someone else brought in apples. The really pretty blond girls (who looked like they were 30 rather than 16), ate the apples while I miserably enjoyed the immediate gratification of my donut (I probably ate two).
At some point when I was a teenager, I got the idea that a good way to lose some weight would be continue eating all of the huge servings of food that I was accustomed to for every meal and not exercising, and to somehow force all of those excess calories out of my body. I'm sure had I been another type of person I would have tried starving myself, but that was not the type of quick fix solution I was into. I once wrapped packing tape around my belly as a type of a corset to sleep with, which goes to show you the level of planning and common sense I was employing in my quest. Not only was the packing tape (obviously) ineffective, it was pretty painful to take off.
So for some years I was bulimic. I have to say that it's pretty convenient that this nice medical term exists that veils the inherently disgusting nature of making yourself vomit and abusing laxatives. Add to this that being an incredibly insecure, unhappy person didn't make me super nice to others. My first few boyfriends experienced pretty insane levels of jealousy and anger from me. I once threw an entire smoothie into my ex boyfriend's car.
So, one of the best things that ever happened to me was transferring to college, moving into an apartment with people who became really good friends, and getting a job at a co-op. At school intelligence was really valued, which was not something I recognized much as a teenager. And at work all sorts of people were liked and accepted, and no one was rewarded for being a jerk. I made friends and stopped watching so much t.v. I stopped worrying as much about what I looked like. I gained weight, cut off my hair and was really, really happy. For a few years I did have crazy anxiety about my teeth, sure I was going to lose all of them after mistreating my mouth so much, but eventually I went to a dentist and as far as I know dentures are not in the cards-- yet.
Fast forward a few years later and I'm still ironing out some kinks. I take from those experiences some valuable lessons, and a plan for what I will try to impart to my daughter, if I ever have one. Life is good, I'm okay, and I'm ready for what's coming. Life can be hard enough without being on your own side. Teedle-y-dee, off to work I go!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Napping through the Revolution
I have a cold. This is not at all surprising to me, although I was trying to wish it away and kill it with spicy food (sometimes effective methods) yesterday; the mere four hours of sleep I got last night certainly did not help.
Since my last post, I was rehired at the grocery store that I worked at before the job that I will be losing (sooner rather than later now, though they still haven't given us a date). I've been going to both most days, working 5 am to 5 pm, leaving home by 4 a.m. to catch the train. While I actually prefer the early shift, I had a feeling that not having the ability to nap would catch up with me, as going to sleep before 10:00 p.m. is impossible (and before 11 is a challenge), even if I intend to be up by 3:20 at the latest. Waking up this early I set the maximum five alarms on my cell phone-- as a coworker once said, my body tricks me into getting more than I am alloted of that sweet, sweet sleep.
So here I am on a Saturday night, wearing an XXL "Stick it to the Man!" co-op shirt that I got for free from my work one of the two other times they hired me (continuous employment! gratitude!) borrowed pajama pants, and my old friend blue bathrobe, who hasn't made an appearance since last March. I am missing a potluck and music at my favorite coffee shop/food hang out place. I don't even care. I feel so tired and run down, I'm excited to maybe watch a movie (something of the sweet and sappy variety, perhaps starring Meg Ryan) and make some citrus ginger juice with my new juicer before going to sleep at a reasonable hour and waking up feeling refreshed and 100% better tomorrow morning (it's called the power of positive thinking;)
The best part of my work day today was feeling like a know-it-all when I was alone in the walk-in, putting away pallets. Yes, I enjoyed standing in a refrigerator as I was getting sick, stacking boxes that weigh 20-50 lbs on average. 1.)It makes me feel cool and macho and 2.)Even though I am a gross, disgusting, embarrassing secret slob (to borrow a phrase from Catcher in the Rye. How hip! I barely remember that book. I liked Nine Stories, but gave my copy away and never finished Franny and Zooey although of that I have two copies), even though I am a gross, disgusting, embarrassing secret slob, I do enjoy the feeling at work that everything is in its right place, and also rearranging the boxes to fit something where there was previously no space for it. Look at the apple section! What was previously a haphazard mess is now neat stacks of Spitzenbergs, Galas, Fujis, Honeycrisps, etc, etc, sorted by dated oldest received on top, partial boxes put out or on the cart.
The last time I worked at this store unloading pallets drove me crazy. Ice cold water drips from boxes down onto your hair and into your shirt, boxes are heavy and cumbersome and hard to maneuver in the little space available after the walk-in is crammed with multiple pallets and carts of product. Coworkers forget to move a poorly placed box, or just do something of questionable judgment, like sticking a heavy citrus box on top of delicate grapes. I hated setting up the olive bar as well; the smell of that much brine at 5 am made me swear I never wanted to look at anything from the olive bar again, let alone eat it.
However, months have passed and I am over it. I actually asked my coworker if he wanted me to do the olive bar this morning. Feeling competent is nice, although I'm self concious that I might not be moving fast enough.
As for my other job, I go in, shuffle papers, make copies, respond to emails, and feel not very useful to my boss. I'm just not there for enough time in the afternoons, but I can't commit any more time than I already am. Luckily, some of the people in my office have found jobs/have finally gotten interviews, so there is less of a doomsday feel around the water cooler (actually, the water cooler is in an empty cubicle that no one hangs out in, last occupied by the student intern that had the unfortunate learning experience of watching the agency implode this summer).
So, this is life right now. Work. Juicers. A slight cold. I'd better not get cold sore, or to use a less disgusting phrase, though not as accurate, sun blister (less disgusting to me. Don't even use the "h" word). Those are the worst. I already feel pretty haggard, these past two and a half weeks. I think I may have gotten less than a handful of solid nights of sleep in that time. However, as the protests around the country will tell you, I am one of the lucky ones I guess. No unemployment. I'm eligible for awesome benefits after a few months. I'm really enjoying working a physical job and working with my friends again. It's an alright place to land. I just gotta get over this dang cold!
Since my last post, I was rehired at the grocery store that I worked at before the job that I will be losing (sooner rather than later now, though they still haven't given us a date). I've been going to both most days, working 5 am to 5 pm, leaving home by 4 a.m. to catch the train. While I actually prefer the early shift, I had a feeling that not having the ability to nap would catch up with me, as going to sleep before 10:00 p.m. is impossible (and before 11 is a challenge), even if I intend to be up by 3:20 at the latest. Waking up this early I set the maximum five alarms on my cell phone-- as a coworker once said, my body tricks me into getting more than I am alloted of that sweet, sweet sleep.
So here I am on a Saturday night, wearing an XXL "Stick it to the Man!" co-op shirt that I got for free from my work one of the two other times they hired me (continuous employment! gratitude!) borrowed pajama pants, and my old friend blue bathrobe, who hasn't made an appearance since last March. I am missing a potluck and music at my favorite coffee shop/food hang out place. I don't even care. I feel so tired and run down, I'm excited to maybe watch a movie (something of the sweet and sappy variety, perhaps starring Meg Ryan) and make some citrus ginger juice with my new juicer before going to sleep at a reasonable hour and waking up feeling refreshed and 100% better tomorrow morning (it's called the power of positive thinking;)
The best part of my work day today was feeling like a know-it-all when I was alone in the walk-in, putting away pallets. Yes, I enjoyed standing in a refrigerator as I was getting sick, stacking boxes that weigh 20-50 lbs on average. 1.)It makes me feel cool and macho and 2.)Even though I am a gross, disgusting, embarrassing secret slob (to borrow a phrase from Catcher in the Rye. How hip! I barely remember that book. I liked Nine Stories, but gave my copy away and never finished Franny and Zooey although of that I have two copies), even though I am a gross, disgusting, embarrassing secret slob, I do enjoy the feeling at work that everything is in its right place, and also rearranging the boxes to fit something where there was previously no space for it. Look at the apple section! What was previously a haphazard mess is now neat stacks of Spitzenbergs, Galas, Fujis, Honeycrisps, etc, etc, sorted by dated oldest received on top, partial boxes put out or on the cart.
The last time I worked at this store unloading pallets drove me crazy. Ice cold water drips from boxes down onto your hair and into your shirt, boxes are heavy and cumbersome and hard to maneuver in the little space available after the walk-in is crammed with multiple pallets and carts of product. Coworkers forget to move a poorly placed box, or just do something of questionable judgment, like sticking a heavy citrus box on top of delicate grapes. I hated setting up the olive bar as well; the smell of that much brine at 5 am made me swear I never wanted to look at anything from the olive bar again, let alone eat it.
However, months have passed and I am over it. I actually asked my coworker if he wanted me to do the olive bar this morning. Feeling competent is nice, although I'm self concious that I might not be moving fast enough.
As for my other job, I go in, shuffle papers, make copies, respond to emails, and feel not very useful to my boss. I'm just not there for enough time in the afternoons, but I can't commit any more time than I already am. Luckily, some of the people in my office have found jobs/have finally gotten interviews, so there is less of a doomsday feel around the water cooler (actually, the water cooler is in an empty cubicle that no one hangs out in, last occupied by the student intern that had the unfortunate learning experience of watching the agency implode this summer).
So, this is life right now. Work. Juicers. A slight cold. I'd better not get cold sore, or to use a less disgusting phrase, though not as accurate, sun blister (less disgusting to me. Don't even use the "h" word). Those are the worst. I already feel pretty haggard, these past two and a half weeks. I think I may have gotten less than a handful of solid nights of sleep in that time. However, as the protests around the country will tell you, I am one of the lucky ones I guess. No unemployment. I'm eligible for awesome benefits after a few months. I'm really enjoying working a physical job and working with my friends again. It's an alright place to land. I just gotta get over this dang cold!
Monday, August 29, 2011
The Titanic
There is only so much television that I can watch before I feel depressed. Granted, I love t.v. but spending a perfectly good evening watching more than two hours watching television makes me feel pretty crazy. that isn't to say it isn't done, but I'd prefer otherwise.
I've been lacking in imagination, and have had been lazy with my brain. I'm housesitting for my boss- who I like very much, however I worry a lot about her continuing to or consistently liking me. She seems to. This is nice. of me. right? She's a cool lady.
My job (secret), I'm not crazy about. The people are wonderful and I'm getting laid off soon anyhow. But it's been stifling, man. Going to that office everyday, everyone knowing that they're losing their jobs (the agency is closing). However, everyone else is in an employee union and know they know when they're losing their jobs. Not me. I'm an independent contractor. And my program isn't defunded. It's just moving somewhere at sometime. Has anyone told us when? No. Is there an answer to when I will lose my job? Probably in a month or two. Am I still moving ahead like I'm not on a sinking ship? Yes, indeedily do.
*To be fair, everyone else is also fully invested, have careers and morgatages and kids and car payments. Not me.
And, despite not liking my job too too much, the uncertainty is getting to me. And I might not qualify for unemployment if I can't find a job, which never occured to me, because I've never been unemployed before without it being my choice and in such a crappy economy. And I think I accidentally downloaded a virus onto my personal computer the other day. From Netflix. Not porn. Which is irrelevant, but I'm on a roll here.
I don't love my job (something I hope no one at my work realizes), but I worry about everything, all the time, so this is stressful. I should focus on the definites. So I don't know when, but I know I will. The bigger picture, so to speak. Like a break up, or a good friend moving away. Loss is inevitable. Like death. I am calm, I am accepting. I'm still getting a paycheck. You see, these things called dollar bills don't come easily. They're important. If I can just secure them and somehow keep them... not worry about such frivolities as healthy expensive food and shelter. And fun. I like to have fun.
The best things in life are free, like love, or a good attitude. However, call me bourgeousie, I think that money definitely helps. And my employer is the only entity that gives it to me. So. There's that.
I've been lacking in imagination, and have had been lazy with my brain. I'm housesitting for my boss- who I like very much, however I worry a lot about her continuing to or consistently liking me. She seems to. This is nice. of me. right? She's a cool lady.
My job (secret), I'm not crazy about. The people are wonderful and I'm getting laid off soon anyhow. But it's been stifling, man. Going to that office everyday, everyone knowing that they're losing their jobs (the agency is closing). However, everyone else is in an employee union and know they know when they're losing their jobs. Not me. I'm an independent contractor. And my program isn't defunded. It's just moving somewhere at sometime. Has anyone told us when? No. Is there an answer to when I will lose my job? Probably in a month or two. Am I still moving ahead like I'm not on a sinking ship? Yes, indeedily do.
*To be fair, everyone else is also fully invested, have careers and morgatages and kids and car payments. Not me.
And, despite not liking my job too too much, the uncertainty is getting to me. And I might not qualify for unemployment if I can't find a job, which never occured to me, because I've never been unemployed before without it being my choice and in such a crappy economy. And I think I accidentally downloaded a virus onto my personal computer the other day. From Netflix. Not porn. Which is irrelevant, but I'm on a roll here.
I don't love my job (something I hope no one at my work realizes), but I worry about everything, all the time, so this is stressful. I should focus on the definites. So I don't know when, but I know I will. The bigger picture, so to speak. Like a break up, or a good friend moving away. Loss is inevitable. Like death. I am calm, I am accepting. I'm still getting a paycheck. You see, these things called dollar bills don't come easily. They're important. If I can just secure them and somehow keep them... not worry about such frivolities as healthy expensive food and shelter. And fun. I like to have fun.
The best things in life are free, like love, or a good attitude. However, call me bourgeousie, I think that money definitely helps. And my employer is the only entity that gives it to me. So. There's that.
Monday, August 8, 2011
You can stay, but the world will change around you
Hi again. I've been having a great summer. Summer really loses some of its luster when you leave school completely; you have to go to work everyday, it just gets hotter outside. However, it has been my experience these past few years that summer still has some of that same old magic, even as life slips into a new routine (one that doesn't involve playing soccer and sardines in the street. "Car!... game on."). Summer nights, sweaty bike rides, getting a little smelly, feeling strangely natural with your skin constantly moist from lack of air conditioning. I love it. I generally say that autumn and early winter are my favorite seasons, but that may be something I just tell myself before seasonal affective disorder sets in and my body starts screaming for some sushine.
Anywho, I've had a good run of weekends. The past couple months, every weekend has been so fun. I'm not sure when it will end. It doesn't have to end, but the likelihood that things will continue uninterrupted as they are is definitely zero. This realization is nothing new on my part. It's the same old worry; worring about nothing, about things that haven't yet happened that I have no control over. However, what is new, is the idea that I don't want to be in flux today. This is probably a good sign, I must be somewhat content. I was just sitting in my backyard, with my cat, and I thought, "what if I just stayed here for a while?" Well, I'll tell you what: I'm losing my job. (It'll be okay.) Our beloved family dog was recently put down. Two of my housemates are getting married (to each other!!! exciting!). Friends are moving to other cities (but they're here now...!). And so on. It's life.
I don't think that I do actually just want to sit here. However, life has a way of setting a pace that I cannot readily adjust to. And that's fine. I am beginning (on a teensy small scale)accept the impermanence of everything and that it's all okay. Even if it makes me unhappy sometimes. It also makes me happy sometimes. That job that I had that I hated when I was twenty years old, sure glad that was not permanent. Or heartbreak, or disappointment, or yada yada.
These weekends can't last forever, my housemates will eventually move away, people that I'm accostomed to enjoying on a semi-regular basis will get jobs in other cities, sometimes far away, people will get married, have babies, people will die. People will die? Is that what I just said? Again? Hey, I'm not the decider here.
I always remind people (and myself) of that. Not intentionally. What a bummer. I had coffee with my mom earlier today and she mentioned that it was going to be my nana's 70th class reunion. My reaction was that I dread the day when I have to get used to most of my friends and family beginning to pass away. At that age they begin to consolidate the graduating classes because they keep shrinking.
Anyway, I'm very lucky. You have to have something to be afraid of losing it. And I'd been kicking rocks for awhile. So in the words of al green,
"Don't look so sad I know its over
But life goes on and this world keeps on turning
Let's just be glad we have this time to spend together
There is no need to watch the bridges that were burning"
I'm so emo. That's still a thing, right? Another thing, I don't know how to work apps, I don't know Justin Bieber, google+ frightens and confuses me. I'm just a 20th century girl, trapped in a 21st century world. grow. change. vinyasa. hot tub time machine.
Anywho, I've had a good run of weekends. The past couple months, every weekend has been so fun. I'm not sure when it will end. It doesn't have to end, but the likelihood that things will continue uninterrupted as they are is definitely zero. This realization is nothing new on my part. It's the same old worry; worring about nothing, about things that haven't yet happened that I have no control over. However, what is new, is the idea that I don't want to be in flux today. This is probably a good sign, I must be somewhat content. I was just sitting in my backyard, with my cat, and I thought, "what if I just stayed here for a while?" Well, I'll tell you what: I'm losing my job. (It'll be okay.) Our beloved family dog was recently put down. Two of my housemates are getting married (to each other!!! exciting!). Friends are moving to other cities (but they're here now...!). And so on. It's life.
I don't think that I do actually just want to sit here. However, life has a way of setting a pace that I cannot readily adjust to. And that's fine. I am beginning (on a teensy small scale)accept the impermanence of everything and that it's all okay. Even if it makes me unhappy sometimes. It also makes me happy sometimes. That job that I had that I hated when I was twenty years old, sure glad that was not permanent. Or heartbreak, or disappointment, or yada yada.
These weekends can't last forever, my housemates will eventually move away, people that I'm accostomed to enjoying on a semi-regular basis will get jobs in other cities, sometimes far away, people will get married, have babies, people will die. People will die? Is that what I just said? Again? Hey, I'm not the decider here.
I always remind people (and myself) of that. Not intentionally. What a bummer. I had coffee with my mom earlier today and she mentioned that it was going to be my nana's 70th class reunion. My reaction was that I dread the day when I have to get used to most of my friends and family beginning to pass away. At that age they begin to consolidate the graduating classes because they keep shrinking.
Anyway, I'm very lucky. You have to have something to be afraid of losing it. And I'd been kicking rocks for awhile. So in the words of al green,
"Don't look so sad I know its over
But life goes on and this world keeps on turning
Let's just be glad we have this time to spend together
There is no need to watch the bridges that were burning"
I'm so emo. That's still a thing, right? Another thing, I don't know how to work apps, I don't know Justin Bieber, google+ frightens and confuses me. I'm just a 20th century girl, trapped in a 21st century world. grow. change. vinyasa. hot tub time machine.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
That's what friends are for!
Today I want to talk about the terrible spectre of loneliness. Jokes! I'll get there.
Last night I got to visit with one of my dearest friends, Meg, who moved to Germany this past year. Meg is teaching english and living with her very nice german boyfriend, Matthias. I met Meg in college; through a mutual friend we became housemates when we transfered to university from community college. We eventually worked together, and also had many classes together, as we had the same major (except she was a double major and also studied German). Needless to say we became pretty close and sometimes really, really annoyed each other.
Meg is hilarious, loyal, yada yada yada, super cool and I love her. However, in talking about how awesome she is, I'm going to move on to a more depressing subject, because that's how I roll.
I feel like people often live smaller lives as they get older, sometimes become increasingly isolated... if you are a part of an intentional community like a housing co-op or a church (alas, I'm not religious) this may be less of the case, but as I get older things seem to be super in flux, and while the relationships remain, the physical presence of certain loved ones in my life is less so. Life! Ah well.
I'm very lucky and surrounded by great people most of the time. However, things have changed. I have two friends who live with each other and are besties, and I think longingly of college when I hear that they have matching hats that they wear when they decided to smoke weed and get silly. Now, I would prefer not to smoke, but I would like someone to wear a matching hat with.
Meg and I, as lady best friends sometimes do (maybe fellas as well, but it doesn't seem so to me), had a best friend's inside joke book that we called, "the bible". In it was shared experiences, memories, general silliness. Last night she picked me up at my house, and I was laughing almost immediately. We hung out at her sister's house, and then I decided I was hungry at 10:30 at night, and we went to the store and joked that we were acting like we were high (so much talk about weed. we weren't)because we were giggling and getting too excited about seeing "perfect food bars" on the shelf, and filled our arms with snacky, munchy foods.
You know, I'll say it again, I'm lucky. Throughout my life, I've gotten close to many people over the years, and have had these moments in time where I got to be especially close to a friend. Then things shift, you're still close, but you don't spend all of your time together. I have in the past tried to make boyfriends that person, but in that case there's the special danger of co-dependence and losing yourself in a romantic relationship (and driving the other person crazy/away. overshare?). Probably not always, but I think it takes more practice for some (me). I think that my sister would be down to hang out all the time, and cook and laugh and etc, but we keep living in other states. Bummer.
At this point, I worry that this sounds like a sad, lonely blah blah that is a time and enjoyment suck. I woke up at this morning and walk/ran to the train station (further from Meg's sister's house than I was thinking. sleepiness!) and then walked from the train station to my house. So I had some thinking time. Meg's sister is an attorney in my office and could have given me a ride to work, but I accidentally washed a contact lens down the drain last night/wanted to take a morning constitutional/see my cat. That's right, my cat. I embrace it. I am not, nor will I ever be a sad cat lady. You have to be sad to be a sad cat lady. I may be unmarried forever, but I think that having an animal to care for is good for most people. Levon is a great comfort and joy to me. And when I get the blues... she's great. Anyhow, I have to change for work, but I let me say that I am pretty happy about opportunitities to see my loved ones.
Gah!
Last night I got to visit with one of my dearest friends, Meg, who moved to Germany this past year. Meg is teaching english and living with her very nice german boyfriend, Matthias. I met Meg in college; through a mutual friend we became housemates when we transfered to university from community college. We eventually worked together, and also had many classes together, as we had the same major (except she was a double major and also studied German). Needless to say we became pretty close and sometimes really, really annoyed each other.
Meg is hilarious, loyal, yada yada yada, super cool and I love her. However, in talking about how awesome she is, I'm going to move on to a more depressing subject, because that's how I roll.
I feel like people often live smaller lives as they get older, sometimes become increasingly isolated... if you are a part of an intentional community like a housing co-op or a church (alas, I'm not religious) this may be less of the case, but as I get older things seem to be super in flux, and while the relationships remain, the physical presence of certain loved ones in my life is less so. Life! Ah well.
I'm very lucky and surrounded by great people most of the time. However, things have changed. I have two friends who live with each other and are besties, and I think longingly of college when I hear that they have matching hats that they wear when they decided to smoke weed and get silly. Now, I would prefer not to smoke, but I would like someone to wear a matching hat with.
Meg and I, as lady best friends sometimes do (maybe fellas as well, but it doesn't seem so to me), had a best friend's inside joke book that we called, "the bible". In it was shared experiences, memories, general silliness. Last night she picked me up at my house, and I was laughing almost immediately. We hung out at her sister's house, and then I decided I was hungry at 10:30 at night, and we went to the store and joked that we were acting like we were high (so much talk about weed. we weren't)because we were giggling and getting too excited about seeing "perfect food bars" on the shelf, and filled our arms with snacky, munchy foods.
You know, I'll say it again, I'm lucky. Throughout my life, I've gotten close to many people over the years, and have had these moments in time where I got to be especially close to a friend. Then things shift, you're still close, but you don't spend all of your time together. I have in the past tried to make boyfriends that person, but in that case there's the special danger of co-dependence and losing yourself in a romantic relationship (and driving the other person crazy/away. overshare?). Probably not always, but I think it takes more practice for some (me). I think that my sister would be down to hang out all the time, and cook and laugh and etc, but we keep living in other states. Bummer.
At this point, I worry that this sounds like a sad, lonely blah blah that is a time and enjoyment suck. I woke up at this morning and walk/ran to the train station (further from Meg's sister's house than I was thinking. sleepiness!) and then walked from the train station to my house. So I had some thinking time. Meg's sister is an attorney in my office and could have given me a ride to work, but I accidentally washed a contact lens down the drain last night/wanted to take a morning constitutional/see my cat. That's right, my cat. I embrace it. I am not, nor will I ever be a sad cat lady. You have to be sad to be a sad cat lady. I may be unmarried forever, but I think that having an animal to care for is good for most people. Levon is a great comfort and joy to me. And when I get the blues... she's great. Anyhow, I have to change for work, but I let me say that I am pretty happy about opportunitities to see my loved ones.
Gah!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee
I just went to the most fun yoga class. Let me preface all of this by saying that I am new to yoga. My funny teacher said that I was "like a gps" and "the leaning tower of Pisa". I'm not very good. Two other things that I liked that he said were, "the best reason to smile is no reason at all" and "the simpliest act of love is paying attention". He advised me to tryto become a masseuse, to have maybe may jobs instead of one, and to not get married until I'm at least 30 (he's seen it many times he said, men want to "capture" a woman, and he sees women giving all of themselves over.) He also invited me to his bikram yoga class and offered me thirty free days at the studio.
I am sometimes very lucky. sometimes I am incredibly unlucky. But, as far as random acts of kindness go, I feel like I've been, I don't know, pretty blessed (I don't know how to describe it). I have a nice bicycle because my mom's best friend's husband is an exceptionally nice guy and gave it to me.
Have I told you the story of the man who once gave me a hundred dollars for no reason at all? Maybe. Maybe I've written it before too, but here it comes: I was working at a grocery store as a cashier (this happened a few years ago) and this man that I recognized, but didn't really know came through my line. He gave me a card. at that time, being a young lady college student I sometimes got attention from the male customers. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted the card to look open later. I didn't want him to ask me out. He seemed nice enough, but it was pretty awkward.
So later, I opened the card and was freaked out as I pulled out $20 bills. I called my manager immediately (I wasn't sure I would be allowed to keep it/nor did I want to keep it) I read the note, my manager read the note, and my friend Elliot who had come to run with me after work read the note. "It's a nice note," Elliot said.
Basically, the man had said that he had come through my checkout line at some point and saw that I was really happy. (And I was really happy that point in my life. I would sing at work. It's a place I'm trying to get back to.)
He was not happy. He knew no one in town, he might have been drinking too much, he was unfulfilled. He said that he looked at me and figured that he wanted to be in that place that I was in. So he wrote a list, and gave himself a deadline. He worked hard, ended up divorcing, really struggled, and now he was happy.
I saw him later in the store and we talked about his gift to me. He said that he felt like he had to do it, like he was on a crashing plane making promises about what he would do if his life was spared. When he wrote the list, I guess he thought if it worked he would give me $100. I tried to give it back to him multiple times (a nice gesture, but the letter I prized) but I ended up just giving him a mango. then I moved away and moved back and I haven't seen him again.
Anyhow, I don't believe that these things really speak to what kind of a person I am (except sometimes very lucky and sometimes unlucky), but they do speak volumes about the kindness of others and the impact we can have on other people, even strangers. I am not always a kind person, but that is my worthiest aspiration. All things will come from it. Health, from kindness to myself. Wealth, for the riches of integrity and good relationships. Strength, for doing what is not always easy.
Okay, clearly I was just in a yoga class. I'm done. Love, Rachel
I am sometimes very lucky. sometimes I am incredibly unlucky. But, as far as random acts of kindness go, I feel like I've been, I don't know, pretty blessed (I don't know how to describe it). I have a nice bicycle because my mom's best friend's husband is an exceptionally nice guy and gave it to me.
Have I told you the story of the man who once gave me a hundred dollars for no reason at all? Maybe. Maybe I've written it before too, but here it comes: I was working at a grocery store as a cashier (this happened a few years ago) and this man that I recognized, but didn't really know came through my line. He gave me a card. at that time, being a young lady college student I sometimes got attention from the male customers. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted the card to look open later. I didn't want him to ask me out. He seemed nice enough, but it was pretty awkward.
So later, I opened the card and was freaked out as I pulled out $20 bills. I called my manager immediately (I wasn't sure I would be allowed to keep it/nor did I want to keep it) I read the note, my manager read the note, and my friend Elliot who had come to run with me after work read the note. "It's a nice note," Elliot said.
Basically, the man had said that he had come through my checkout line at some point and saw that I was really happy. (And I was really happy that point in my life. I would sing at work. It's a place I'm trying to get back to.)
He was not happy. He knew no one in town, he might have been drinking too much, he was unfulfilled. He said that he looked at me and figured that he wanted to be in that place that I was in. So he wrote a list, and gave himself a deadline. He worked hard, ended up divorcing, really struggled, and now he was happy.
I saw him later in the store and we talked about his gift to me. He said that he felt like he had to do it, like he was on a crashing plane making promises about what he would do if his life was spared. When he wrote the list, I guess he thought if it worked he would give me $100. I tried to give it back to him multiple times (a nice gesture, but the letter I prized) but I ended up just giving him a mango. then I moved away and moved back and I haven't seen him again.
Anyhow, I don't believe that these things really speak to what kind of a person I am (except sometimes very lucky and sometimes unlucky), but they do speak volumes about the kindness of others and the impact we can have on other people, even strangers. I am not always a kind person, but that is my worthiest aspiration. All things will come from it. Health, from kindness to myself. Wealth, for the riches of integrity and good relationships. Strength, for doing what is not always easy.
Okay, clearly I was just in a yoga class. I'm done. Love, Rachel
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