| Friday Five |
[24 Feb 2006|01:30pm] |
I just signed up for the Friday Five. Fun stuff.
1) When does liking someone a lot become loving that person?
To me, there are two questions within this question. There is the difference between like and love of human beings, and then there is the difference between love of another person and being "in love" with a person. I think the latter is harder to define.
To answer the question posed literally, I think the tipping point of like to love comes at the point when you realize that the less attractive attributes of a person may be annoying, but are certainly not dealbreakers. You can forsee this person being in your life and you find that prospect valuable, even essential, to your future happiness and who you want to become as a person, the life you want to have. In a friend sense, I've come to realize this in a person when I'm not afraid that asking them for a favor, or for help, or talking about emotional things, will be too much. Then once I realize someone is truly my friend after all that hesitation, it seems so obvious.
As far as knowing you are in love, I don't know. The only threshold I've felt in the past is when you can realistically think about a future with a person, complete with hypothetical offenses that you can imagine forgiving them for, or having the courage to confess yourself. I guess it's not so different from the "not a dealbreaker" scenario before, but with the "in love" part, there is a lot more murkiness. I'm still good friends with the only person I think I've truly loved, and I can't imagine him not being in my life in some way. And I'm certainly no expert on that category. It's a feeling I haven't had for a pretty long time, but hope to again someday.
2) Is there a job you would do for free, and is it your current job?
Yes, I think there is, but it's certainly not my temp job. It's hard for me to imagine having that luxury at the moment, having just spent the last four years not getting paid (grad school), or getting paid a minimal volunteer stipend in peace corps and Uganda. It doesn't count toward the question because I got a stipend (though it's close!), but now my life is so focused on trying to get a paying job and to become financially stable that it's a rather big stretch. If finances weren't an issue and I were somehow financially independent or supported, I could easily see myself doing humanitarian relief work for free - working with programs that help with disaster recovery. If I'm lucky, I'll soon find a job that pays me to be involved with similar work.
3) What is one person/thing that inspired you to take action of some sort?
There are so many inspirational people and events, but this time I'm going to tell about becoming inspired by something repulsive. For many years, since high school, I had wanted to join the peace corps. When I decided to do AmeriCorps after university instead, I thought that was it for me, but I never lost the dream of living in another country, which was part of the lure for me. I had an unspoken dream to do this before I turned 30. I entered a Master's program when I was 27 that would send me to the Peace Corps for credit, but there were many points along that path that would have made it possible for me to simply change my course of study to a standard 2 year domestic program with an internship, even an international internship but I never waivered in my decision to go abroad. President Bush's election and foreign policy had a lot to do with it. The fact that I opposed just about every action or decision of the Bush Administration made me absolutely certain that I wanted to leave the country. The irony there is that I left as a U.S. Peace Corps volunteer, in effect a mini-ambassador of the countries whose policies I so detested. That was difficult - being called a "Peace Corps" worker when my own country was waging war against a country that had not attacked and for which invation there was no evidence. I almost hated telling people I was a U.S. volunteer, but at the same time, I love the ideals the country was founded on and I did want to share those with other people who only knew about the actions of the powerful minority in power and not the ideals of the powerless minority. It was valuable for people to hear that we didn't all agree with the war in Iraq, and to see that not all Americans are like the ones in movies and on BET, or the tourists that come and get drunk and throw money around and disrespect other cultures.
4) Though you might not believe in it, would you like fate to exist?
I want to say yes, because it's easy then. You're absolved of true responsibility for your actions and the decisions you make, because there was never any choice; it was meant to be. It's too easy, but it's comfortable. To me, that's what organized religion is all about, and why it doesn't work for me. As comforting and nice as it would be to believe in an all-powerful force or being that ultimately controls or has predetermined the course of our lives and existence, I just don't buy it. I'm not sure I'd want to. If it was really true, why bother? Why help each other? Why do anything? And moreover, it would justify hatred and discrimination, poverty, war and other horrible things. So no, I wouldn't like fate to exist. It's a cold, hard universe, but I think we're tough enough to take it.
5) What's the kindest thing that anyone has ever done for you?
I've been fortunate to encounter many kind people in my life -friends, family and strangers. A few highlights:
-My friend Zach shaved his head with me when my hair fell out suddenly due to alopecia, and everyone thought I was sick. That was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.
-When I was travelling in Italy with a boyfriend, we were rushing back to our hotel, which had a 12 pm curfew. We'd decided to see the end of the concert and then run, so minutes before 12, as we ran through the streets of a small mountain town, a small car pulled over and an italian woman who spoke very little English ushered us in. We pointed to our hotel on the map and she drove us there. We made it on time and kissed her cheeks with very enthusiastic grazis. I still think of her kindly.
-A german girl I met on the train from Belgium to Paris last summer on my chaotic trip back from Uganda with too much luggage and not enough cash - she helped me carry my bags, waited for me to get a ticket and then gave me 10 Euro to help me through the rest of my trip. She was only a student, but willing to help a fellow traveller.
-Similarly, the Danish high school student who worked with me briefly at the clinic in Uganda, and her mother, who fed and transported me and gave me a place to sleep when I called them frantically from the train station in Paris, needing a place to stay on the same trip from Uganda.
-The host families in Mexico, Costa Rica, Saint Lucia and Uganda that welcomed me and helped me during times of transition to new cultures.
-My mother, who has generously helped me when I needed it along these last few years of voluntary work and the transitions between....
I'm a lucky person. Maybe it's not such a cold unfeeling universe, after all.
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| Upcoming Events |
[23 Feb 2006|07:10pm] |
Some upcoming things I want to go to/do. Some I have people to go with (the more the merrier, some not. Anyone interested?
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| Marge Simpson redux |
[23 Feb 2006|11:44am] |
| You Are Marge Simpson | 
You're a devoted family member who loves unconditionally.
Sometimes, though, you dream about living a wild secret life!
You will be remembered for: your good cooking and evading the police
Your life philosophy: "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head." |
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| Two things, unrelated |
[23 Feb 2006|10:46am] |
First, some good news. I have an interview, after months of absolutely fruitless and wasted efforts of applying for jobs that seemed perfect for me, often where I knew someone or had a contact, tailored my resume, the whole works, only to hear NOTHING. No reply, except an occasional form rejection letter. No interviews for months. Just me, as a permatemp, flinging resumes and dreams of a better life into a cold, unfeeling universe. And now, voila! An interview on Monday. Things seem to be looking up, at last. At least it's a start!
Second, something I've been thinking about since this morning. I apparently missed the bloody express bus, AGAIN, and had a choice between two equally slow busses that go through downtown via 3rd Ave from Queen Anne. I took the #1 because there were less people (and therefore seats) and sat down towards the front. I saw this guy give me a kind of funny look when I sat down, but I just disregarded it and started reading The Stranger. Then after a few moments, a bad smell invaded my consciousnes and stuffy nose. I realized I'd sat in the sideways seats toward the front just next to a guy in the regular seats who was smelly, dirty, and passed out. I thought about moving, but there weren't many options and I just decided to deal with it and stay put. Kept reading. A relatively cleancut looking guy got on and sat next to him, and I watched him go through the same process out of the corner of my eye. He got out his ipod right away, I guess to distract him from it. Somewhere in Belltown, the agonizingly slow bus was stopped longer than usual, and I saw the cleancut guy get up. I figured he was switching seats the first time one became available, but instead, he stepped aside for a cop who got on, woke the stinky sleeping guy, and escorted him off the bus.
So that's what I've been thinking about. Sure, he was stinky and shouldn't be sleeping on the bus (I guess he'd been there for a while) and was probably also drunk, but should he get arrested for that? I'm not sure if he did, or if the cops just removed him to prevent any harm to the driver. He wasn't rowdy or causing any incident. But I guess he was taking up valuable space at rush hour. I don't know. I had this conversation last night with someone at dinner (a wealthy white female from the eastside, friend of a friend) who told me that "the economy in Seattle is so good that the only reason for anyone to be homeless here is either by choice, because of mental illness or because of drugs." While those are common reasons, I'm not sure that I agree with that oversimplification but I didn't want to argue. This morning on the bus, after that guy was removed, I just really wanted to know his story. I can't figure out why it bothers me so much that the cops got on to make him get off, but maybe it was partly that I wonder if they would have called the cops on a white guy. (although the driver was african american and the passenger was seemingly Indian or Mexican - it was hard to tell with his hat pulled down.)
Oh crap. It's raining again.
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| Juxtaposed |
[22 Feb 2006|10:00am] |
I woke up this morning thinking about how I like that word, juxtapose. I like the way it sounds, I like the way it looks, and I like the meaning -- all in all, a cool word. My boyfriend in college was really into the word quagmire, (I think it was his UD e-mail address, back in those early email days) which makes me sort of sad that the word is overused in conjunction with Iraq, which has now stripped it of any coolness it ever had. Juxtapose, on the other hand, is like an action word. You could juxtapose! to the Madonna song "Vogue," for example, to be wacky.
Anyway, today is day 13 of me still having the flu from hell. And day 3 of the South Beach diet. I was just talking to Dascha about the constant salad eating, and I realized that I eat salads for lunch a lot anyway, so it's just the crushing sense of no choices that's so annoying on a diet like this. If I choose to eat salads pretty often, that's one thing. But to HAVE to eat them is another. But honestly, even in the strict phase, this diet isn't so bad. I gave up sugar for most of the summer, and I've been on so many other weird diets for health purposes (rather than weight loss purposes, like now) that very little phases me, food-wise. I can have eggs, lowfat dairy, tea and coffee, vegetables (raw and cooked), lean protein, and nuts. The weird thing is that I'm hungry all the time but can't eat much at any one time. So I eat like 6 times a day, which is apparently a very healthy way to eat.
So the diet's going ok, except that tonight I'm registered for a focus group that I signed up for more than a month ago where I get paid $40 to taste and give my opinions on soy ice cream. It takes 45 min and is 3 blocks from my apartment - I thought long and hard and decided that I need the money so screw it. I doubt there will really be that much soy ice cream, in terms of quantity. So I will only be cheating a little bit, but more importantly, getting paid. Even worse, I'm going to a dinner right after that where it will be sheer torture to watch everyone eat things I can't have. But my friend Trisha is moving to New York in a few weeks. She was one of my first 3 friends in Seattle, and has been there for me through a lot. So I'll have to endure some carb cravings and wine envy at her goodbye dinner while I crunch salad and think about the fun spring clothes I will soon fit into. I'm not fat, but I don't look the way I want to look, and it's high time I did something about it.
I had a sort of stress-related meltdown a few weeks ago. Actually, in truth I had two of them. One a lot of people knew about, because after weeks, or really probably months of a slowly increasing job/stress/weather/health-related depression, I had one really crappy day at work at the end of a really crappy few weeks, and I bugged. Got over it, but not all the way, because a few weeks later I had the final meltdown, complete with sobbing on the phone to Mom. It was triggered by getting three rejection letters in one week, one for something I thought I had a pretty good shot at interviewing for, if not getting, and instead just a cold letter. But it was more than that. Not pretty, but I guess it had to happen. Since then, life has seemed much more in focus. I'm not sure if it was getting that out of my system, or the fact that the sun has been out, or the large quantities of cold meds I've taken, but I've been the laid-back person I wish I could always be. Maybe I'll get hooked on robitussin :) A bunch of nonsense went down at work last week, and I just laughed. It's not worth getting stressed over, and it's nice to feel that way, instead of just knowing it but not feeling it. Everyone should have a meltdown! I just hope I can stay this way and not let all that stress build up this time. Getting a job would really help.
Even though I've still got the flu, I've started running again. I'm not sure that the flu/run/diet combination is fantastic, but I'm not running much - just a few miles to get me out there and active again. When I'm better and eating more energetic foods I'll do more. But it's a start. That definitely helps with stress. It's just hard getting up in the mornings to do it, since I never have time after work.
Today I found out my last week of work is the week of March 13. My temp assignment was approved until the 20th, and the permanent person will start on the 15th. I'll be in San Diego the 17th - 20th, but I'm not sure which day will be my last, and I'm not sure what's next. There is at least the possibility of another temp job similar to what I'm doing now, this time for 6 months, in the Youth Services division at the City. It's not a dream option, but other than a permanent job doing something I really want to be doing, it's the second best thing - pays well, good learning experience in the right field, and it's downtown.
Tickets for Sasquatch go on pre-sale tomorrow. My friends and are discussing whether it's worth it. Good lineup, but I feel generally too old for large festivals like that. On the other hand, with the right people, it could be a blast. I haven't been to anything like that in years, and it's so pretty out there - camping would be great. I hate not having a permanent income source or vacation schedule! It makes planning things very difficult.
But I am looking forward to travelling 2 weekends in March - the first weekend for my grandmother's 85th birthday party, back in PA. When I get back Christine will have left for her drive down to southern california to finish preparations for her wedding, and Jake will have moved in. Then the third weekend for Christine's wedding down in San Diego. I invited my friend Shawn, who lives in Salt Lake, but judging by the half-assed phone tag we've been playing, i don't think he's going to go with me. I'm hoping to link up with my friend Greg from Peace Corps, who just moved to the area a few months ago. It will be nice to get away and go somewhere warm, and he lives near the beach.
I looked at a used car this weekend, and it was decent for what it is - a 1996 Mazda 626 with a fair amount of work needed. Because of that, it's a good price, but I'm not sure if I want to deal with the hassle of getting it all registered and fixed. I need to get it into a garage soon and get estimates of what all the work would cost before I decide. There are other cars, so if this one doesn't work out, it will give me more time to save. But man, I really can't wait to have a car. At the same time it feels counter-intuitive to tack on extra expenses like insurance and fuel when I don't have a permanent source of income right now, I've been so frustrated with not having independent transportation that I think the happiness factor will far outweigh any stress of extra expense. When I think about it, I get even more frustrated that at age 31 I am still having to agonize over whether I can afford to pay $3,000 for a shitty used car. This is not where I thought I'd be - still struggling to get by like this. But all the same, I've had a pretty good and interesting life that I wouldn't really want to trade. So in the end, it will all work out.
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| Rodents above and below ground |
[30 Jan 2006|01:02pm] |
Someone just sent me this quote in an email, and it seems worth posting for all to enjoy:
This year, both groundhog day and the State of the Union address occur on the same day. As Air America Radio pointed out, "It is an ironic juxtaposition of events: one involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication, while the other involves a groundhog."
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| I can't think of a title |
[30 Jan 2006|09:30am] |
| [ |
music |
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KEXP morning show |
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Update: We counted NO homeless people. That's right, zero. We found some sleeping gear and evidence that they do exist but for one thing, apparenty folks don't want to be be snuck up on while sleeping, oddly enough, so they hide out during the count. And secondly, we were assigned an area where there are mostly expensive houses and probably not great numbers of homeless people anyway. So that kind of sucked. I stayed out in the cold for several hours contributing to no cause whatsoever, ate some lumpy, greasy breakfast with other counters of people, and then went back to bed for three hours only to trek back to another stressful day at my hated temp job with my boss and officemate, who I'd just trekked around in the cold with. Good times.
I'm still tired but that's more due to an alcohol-fueled weekend (birthday parties Friday, Hash run Saturday, Thunderbirds game Sunday) than the Thursday night non-count. (For the record, other people did find and count homeless folks - more than a thousand of them, but just not my group.) I think my sleep schedule is back to normalish. Between alcohol and a broken computer, I didn't get any cover letters written this weekend but I did get my computer fixed and happy again, and finish the scarf for my sister and get some other stuff I've been supposed to mail to people for ages together, and also framed some photos from Peace Corps that I've been meaning to do for about 3 months. So I guess it was sort of productive.
I'm currently obsessed with my crock pot (slow cooker). So last night Christine and I watched Flightplan while I finished knitting and putting tassles on the scarf for Cindy, then stretched it out and looked through cookbooks, finding all sorts of fun things I want to make. You can bake in those things! And make whole chickens and stuff. At first I thought it was going to be all scary casseroles with cream of yuck soup and whatnot, but au contraire - there are many exciting and reasonably healthy things on the horizon. I've got all sorts of fun cooking projects planned now and I'm starting on a new scarf with hand-spun and colored wool from somewhere in S. America. I realize it may make me sound like a spinster in training, but I don't care. Friday I became newly enamored of my slow cooker when, in my morning haze, I threw some stuff (a recipe I made up that turned out quite well) into it before I left for work, in anticipation of how out of it I'd be when I got home. It worked, because I walked into this fabulous scent of dinner cooking, but the lights were off and no one was home, and I was really confused. I thought, "who's cooking dinner?" and walked into the kitchen with my tired brow furrowed, and saw the crockpot and smiled. Oh! I made me dinner! Right on! It's nice to be your own housewife :) I'm telling you, this slow cooker thing is the wave of the future.
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| Early/Late |
[27 Jan 2006|01:44am] |
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mood |
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 tired |
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I volunteered, in a burst of something charitable and curious, I suppose, to participate in the One Night Count tonight. It's a sort of homeless census done annually. Friends were involved when I was in grad school but I had papers or some such excuse and couldn't be involved. This time, having no real excuse, I figured I should take what will likely be my only chance to do this sort of bizarre thing: Wake up and meet a bunch of other people at 2 am to go out into the cold, rainy night and count homeless people. There are guidelines as to who and how to count, and safety precautions, of course.
I went to bed early, since I've been sick and stressed and exhausted - a terrible trilogy - this week, but was too strung out or nervous about not waking up that I couldn't sleep. A little of everything I guess. I sort of halfway napped and read, intermittently. I finished the book I was reading about Cambodia during the time of the Khmer Rouge. That's uplifting reading for a cold, rainy night...
When I was taking beghinning feature writing classes at the University of Delaware, I volunteered for a day where you are adopted by a homeless person. You spend the entire day with them, and do exactly what they do on a normal day. I had a guy in his late forties or early fifties who was voluntarily homeless. He was a sharp guy, in reasonably good health, but had been long ago separated from whatever family he'd had, lived all over the country on the streets, travelled on the rails, and slept in the weather, and it had aged him. We hung out in the library, and in the park, and ate lunch in the soup kitchen. We talked about politics, and his background, his life. I asked him, "where do you see yourself in ten years?" I think his name was Jim. There I was, nineteen or twenty, all bright eyed and idealistically sheltered in that unique suburban white american way, and I did not expect his answer. "I don't expect I'll be alive in another ten years," he said matter-of-factly. That's stayed with me for all these years, and it's probably part of what made me sign up for this. Later in the day, the other homeless adoptees and I attended a panel of homeless spokespeople who answered our questions. One girl wasn't much older than me, had lost her parents in an accident and had been left by her boyfriend. She had no one left in the world. I went back to my room and sobbed my guts out that night. My mom and boyfriend didn't quite get why it affected me, since I had a loving family, friends and boyfriend, but that was precisely why. I felt like I had every advantage, but it was all luck. Nothing but sheer accident of fate kept me from being that girl, living on the streets.
There aren't many like her among the homeless, I know. But it's the memory of those two that always makes me second-guess any judgement I may be inclined to pass about those on the street. This afternoon, seeing the rain, I thought about how I hoped it rained all day and became dry at night. And I realized that while most working people like me hope for the rain at night, I'd just switched into the mindset of the street dweller. Rain at night is terrible. And tonight, in a few short minutes, I'm heading out into it. Should be interesting.
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| thoughts on a cold evening |
[15 Jan 2006|10:46pm] |
It's been a busy week, and a busy weekend. Heading into an even busier week. Not all fun stuff, but fun enough, and slightly productive. Applied for two new jobs this week, met some new people, and today got to play outside -- went snowshoing up off Hwy 2, near Stevens Pass. We didn't get to Surprise Lake, but we followed the trail for a few miles along surprise creek and had everything from sun and blue skies to pretty heavy snow. It was great to get away into the peaceful, snowy woods for a bit. But I digress. This post is once again to quote a book I'm reading, also by Elliot Perlman, this time his first novel, 3 Dollars. He's got some amazing insight on social discourse in the twenty first century, and a real knack for seeing through to the real disconnects in our lives and the many layers of reality we all live in. I'm not sure if I'm describing it well, but it grabs me and makes me think and his writing is the kind that you can read several times and get more from it, or different things, each time. I'd love to discuss it with others who've read it.
Today's reading is a quote from Tanya, wife of Eddie, the narrator, who is discussing her PhD thesis with his best friend, Paul, who is a total unabashed capitalist from a wealthy family, whereas Tanya is neither of those things:
"I'm writing about an unprecedented confrontation between the ever-increasing number of disenfranchised, not just politically or socially but with respect to jobs and accomodation, about a confrontation between a growing underclass who inherit joblessness from their parents, and the tiny never-wealthier elite who, like you, will see everything in terms of market share, the cult of the MBA, and managerial theory, and the supreme majesty of Adam Smith's misunderstood invisible hand - until one dark night some other invisible hand drags you by the throat down the stairs and out the door into the reality you've been ignoring. But it will be too late then because there'll be no one to help you. .All the instrumentalities of the state will have been sold off or run down. It will be everyone for themselves, and then you'll really get the feel of a truly free market."
This is how I feel about the Bush II administration, the WTO, and global corporate hegemony. He captures it brilliantly, but that doesn't make it any less frightening. Especially considering he wrote it in 1998. In Australia.
G'night.
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| runaway |
[09 Jan 2006|11:12pm] |
I saw this book in a store this weekend that had these great questions for consideration and discussion. I'm broke so I didn't buy the book, but on that premise, I posit a question that my roommate and I discussed tonight. Have you ever run away from home?
I can remember doing it twice, as a kid. Both times I was in my socks. Once to my friend Karen's and once to my friend Amy's. Both times the moms ratted me out and I had to go sheepishly back home. Man, that sucked.
I'm sure just as most kids have had that vision of how sorry everyone would be if they died, most kids have also run away from home at least once. Have you?
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| dirty air |
[08 Jan 2006|07:49pm] |
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Had a restful weekend of not a whole lot. Slept a lot, watched loads of not terribly interesting movies (either had them around or they were on tv), hung out a bit with my aunt and uncle on Saturday afternoon, did laundry, paid bills, cleaned my room and finally washed the pile of sweaters that have accumulated. It's mundane and a bit gross but sort of cool that when I washed a few of them that have been out at bars/shows, this vile yellow/black liquid came out, and I had to rinse many times. It made me so happy about the smoke ban! Never again will I have to rinse so much gross smoke residue out of my clothes. I couldn't help but think about what my lungs look like... wish they could so easily be rinsed of the secondhand residue. just went for a walk at greenlake and out for nachos with christine and merritt, but i'm still feeling the sunday blues. the weekend is never long enough - it always seems way too soon to go back to work. i really hope i get a permanent job soon that i can look forward to.
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| stuff |
[05 Jan 2006|12:58pm] |
When I was getting ready to leave for Peace Corps, I found myself getting increasingly frustrated and annoyed by the gentrification of Seattle, and it was especially visible in my neighborhood. Fremont has a history of being this creative, artsy, hippie-esque, fun neighborhood, and I sort of got in on the tail end of a heyday in my four years living there. It's a whole different place now, with the waterfront all developed, loads of new uber expensive condos and small businesses getting priced out of the rent on their storefronts. It's mostly thai and sushi restaurants and bars now, and an increasingly suburban/fratboy sort of crowd is drawn to them. Anyway, it felt really good, with the feeling that consumerism was closing in, to be jettisoning much of my stuff and heading out into the world with only 80lbs of posessions for 2 years. I didn't have it all that rough while I was away, lifestyle-wise, but was still broke and had to make do or do without a lot of things we deem necessary here in middle class north america.
Coming back, first from Peace Corps and then my stint in Uganda, I thought - a lot, actually - about my return and how easy it is to get caught in the cycle of stufflust. It's particularly pernicious because even if you avoid the "need" for stuff, there's this feeling of being left behind the normal phases of maturity and adulthood, many of which involve the acquisition of stuff. So if I've consciously chosen my path, and consciously tried to avoid getting caught up in the acquisition of stuff and decided instead to focus and expend energy towards living a life rich in experiences, then why do I find myself more and more bemoaning my lot in life without a car (woe is me...) or suffering from dog envy and house envy with greater and greater intensity? Why do I feel like an adolescent, or that I'm too old to be in this weird transitional phase? I'm caught somewhere in the middle ground between knowing I really want these things and feeling duped by the cycle that I was so careful to try and escape. The other thing I've realized is how relatively easy it is to get "stuff" but how hard it is to get rid of it. It seems to multiply on its own, and with every new object grows a need for 2 or 3 more related objects. Why is keeping it simple so hard?
At any rate, that windy prelude is the lead-in to a passage I read in my book (Elliot Perlman's "Seven Types of Ambiguity" - highly recommended) last night on this very topic. The main character, Simon, is in jail for kidnapping the son of his long ago ex-girlfriend, about whom he still obsesses. He'd been living an isolated life and growing slowly more instrospective and mildly psychotic over the years until it finally culminated in taking the boy. Here's what he wrote:
"And yet, when I found myself living alone in an apartment in my late twenties and into my thirties without any stuff, I noticed its absence. I did not merely notice it; I found myself bothered by it. I became viscerally aware of the voracious accumulation of things by the people around me, other teachers I worked with, or their friends, friends who had sprouted into couples, women I went out with. I would find myself in their homes or see into my neighbors' homes through their windows and notice the way people construct shrines from a whole variety of objects, shrines to some not otherwise articulated long-term view of themselves which it is their amtition to resemble.
It was't so much their stuff per se that I envied; it was this long-term view of themselves of which it bespoke. As a child, and certainly as an adolescent, I had been ashamed of my parents' stuff, ashamed of what it said about the future to which they aspired. Then, as an adult, I grew to be ashamed of my lack of stuff and, worse, ashamed of my lack of any discernable future."
I know one of the first things that's overwhelming for any foreigners coming to the U.S. or Americans returning from abroad is the overwhelming quantity of stuff we have to buy, the large portion sizes we eat, and our increasingly fatter selves that we stuff into increasingly larger cars. (And everything is reasonably cheap, which is part of the problem, but a whole separate topic.) I realize these are neither unique nor particularly deep thoughts, and common to most returning peace corps volunteers, but reading that passage last night just reminded me of this constant battle between feeling that stuff isn't important, but then feeling unimportant for my own lack of stuff. Maybe it's unwise to feel comforted by the words of a crazy and more importantly, fictional, character, but the author is making a larger point about people and their motivations. I just wanted to write it down and see if that would help me make sense of how I really feel, and more importantly, how I realistically should and want to feel.
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| Jenny from the block |
[05 Jan 2006|09:46am] |
My friend Jenn, who I've known since she moved to my elementary school in fifth grade (I should say moved back - she was there for kindergarten and her parents moved away for a few years), visited briefly for new years. She was only here for 3 days, and we were both exhausted from the holidays and she had a cold. In spite of that, we had a good time. At least I did and I hope she did too. It was enough time to watch a few movies, drink too much, eat, hike around in Discovery park (so she could later claim that I tried to kill her wtih "the nature") socialize a bit (happy hour and my new years get-together) and begin speaking in silly voices and accents and our own shared language again.
The highlight, though, was going to see "Black Celebration" and "Fascination Street" - Depeche Mode and The Cure cover bands play at Neumos. We were exhausted and much more spectators than I would have preferred, but all the same it was hilarous, and something I won't forget for a long time. Lyrics were sung loudly (to my amazement I still remember many of them!), laughs were had, lessons were learned, and questions were raised, among them: 1. Why did my parents let me listen to this in 9th grade? (have you LISTENED to the words to "Master and Servant" as an adult?) and 2. Why did I like this cheesy crap? It was fun to revisit the schlocky world of junior high dances remembered, and to laugh at that one guy with less than no rhythm, who danced all herky-jerky, like a bad, limp-wristed cross between the Elaine-from-Seinfeld dance and someone being electrocuted. Ok, it's mean to laugh at someone else and I'm no professional dancer myself, but I need only remember that for the next few weeks to crack a smile.
As Jenn said to me later:
Ticket to see 80's Cover Band: $10
One Bottle of Premium Bad Beer: $5
Opportunity to See a Real Live Punching Nun Doll:
Priceless
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| Boards |
[03 Jan 2006|04:05pm] |
I took a class in October and November through Seattle Works, a cool local nonprofit that works to get people in their 20s and 30s more active in their communities, to learn about the basics of serving on the board of directors of a nonprofit agency. Some of it was new to me but most of it was a refresher from the Evans School. Still, it was nice to hear it all again, but mostly it was refreshing and reaffirming to be in a room with 35 or so other young professionals from a wide variety of backgrounds that all want to get involved. I met some great people, and I need to get back in touch with a few of them. One of them, in fact, got me my current temp job with the City of Seattle. (Well, ok, she got my resume to the woman who later interviewed and hired me - I need to take some of the credit for getting hired.) At the end of the class, we were given a spreadsheet of local nonprofits affiliated with Seattle Works or the United Way of King County who are looking for Board members, some of them specifically looking for young board members. It's a one year committment.
I selected three that I was interested in: Passages NW, who take young disadvantaged city kids on outdoor adventures such as hiking and camping; Footloose Sailing, which takes disabled kids sailing, and the Lifelong Aids Alliance, which works to raise awareness of HIV and assist those who have it. The first two are motivated more by personal interests and the last by professional interest, since it corresponds with my interest in public/global health. I got an unsolicited request to join the board of a social services agency, which I have considered but not greatly, and today I got a call from Footloose Sailing. Linnea from Seattle Works told me she'd personally like to see me work with them, because they're small and looking to grow. Coupled with my love for sailing, this appeals to me because I think that is the stage of organizational growth I like the best -- helping that gawky pre-adolescent or adolescent organization take shape and give it order and direction. Policy and organizational development, yesirree. So I'm going to meet with the head of the newly forming committee for organizational development on Thursday evening after work, in Fremont. I am looking forward to it.
Of note, but a different topic: I am now working 3/4 time. Last week they asked me to increase my hours (previously 20 per week since I started working the week after Thanksgiving as a grants and contracts specialist for the City of Seattle's domestic and sexual violence prevention office) to full time. Instead, I asked if I could start with 4 full days (32 hours) a week, and make those 4 days 9 or 10 hour days if necessary, so as to leave 1 day free for job search stuff. Since this job is only until the end of this month, I need to make smart and efficient use of my free time for the next few weeks.
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| No Life Singed Her |
[03 Jan 2006|02:24pm] |
So this is the new year... and I don't feel any different...
This year I'm going to:
1. Quote Death Cab for Cutie lyrics less often in my posts (but the Pavement reference in this title, being the only one so far, is ok)
2. Get enough sleep.
3. Get a job. A real, permanent one with benefits in my field of study/experience and at an appropriate compensation level. This temping thing is sooo last year.
4. Live the "2006-pack" motto that my friend Jenn's co-workers have espoused (six pack as in abs, not beer; The latter has caused me to lose the former). Wanting to blend in upon my return to the good ol' US of A, I immediately began packing on unsightly extra poundage. Now that I feel appropriately readjusted to life here, for the most part, I feel safe in the assumption that I can still be a patriot and not some freedom-hating hippie if there is slightly less of me to love.
5. Try and give up tortilla chips and drink less coffee: 2 products that I love dearly but don't love me back. In different ways, they both make me happy with their deliciousness in the short term, but like crap in the long term. This, it has been proven repeatedly, is bad. Why then do I keep consuming them?
6. Procrastinate less. (Mostly related to #s 4 and 3. Run more and get a damn job, fatso. Is that so hard?)
7. Be more positive. Complain less. See the bright side in people and things. Find the good in the world. Be kinder to myself and others. (note, this would be the opposite of comments in #6)
8. Play outside more.
9. Learn new things, try new approaches and new activities. Stop saying "I can't." Listen more and talk less.
10. Live in the now, and stop worrying so much about the future. It will come whether I worry and plan for it or not.
That's my list. Resolutions are crap, in general, but I prefer to think of this as goals, rather than resolutions. Once, several years ago, I made a life list with a friend I don't really talk to anymore, and not long after, went back and crossed quite a few things off. It's a cool idea, and I've seen websites now that I have them. Just writing them down helps you focus on what you really want. I had done an earlier version in high school and it's a pretty powerful tool. I mean, wow, I wrote that I'd always wanted a sombrero and I got one on my trip to Mexico the next year (this is not a joke - it's blue and hanging in my room in PA). Whoah.
But seriously, life dreams that seemed sort of difficult to achieve or at least far-flung seem much more concrete and written down. While that may sound obvious, it's more powerful than you might think. I'd like to make a new one, and keep a copy this time. It would be cool to see the progress in a year or two. I mean, in 2004 I remember talking to someone about how much I really wanted to go to Africa someday and I hoped to be able to do it in my lifetime and a few months later I was on a plane there. Life has a way of giving you pretty incredible things if you just ask for them.
Given that statement, I should clarify this post's title, which is really about the fact that I have been not as focused (#6) on getting a job (#3) as I would like to have been/felt like I should be, given the tenuous nature of my employment, so I need to focus more on getting a job and less on getting a life in the short term (except the need for #4 related to doing some #8 but not at the expense of #s 2 or 3), so I can do #s 7 and 10.
This January for me is, on the surface, so different from last year. Then, I was gearing up for a new adventure in a new country with new people on a continent I'd barely only dreamed of seeing. This year, I'm gearing up for the adventure of adulthood in America, which is also slightly foreign to me, and seems like a place I'd also never reach. Last year was about flight; this year is about nesting. Last year I spent new year's day "purging" (shall we say) after getting carried home through the streets of DC, this year I had a slight headache (borne of Drinking Jenga and toasting the new year in many cities) that I promptly fixed with the trifecta of water, coffee and mimosas. (And later beer and diet coke. But not together...) Last year I fell in the Nile and thought I was going to die. This year.. um.. the world is my oyster. (I'll work on a better analogy - the year is still young.)
Cheers to the new year. It's going to be great.
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| home for the holidays |
[27 Dec 2005|05:24pm] |
About 2 weeks before Christmas, I was talking to my roommate Christine about the holidays this year. She was going to travel home to SoCal, but neither my sister nor I were planning to go back to PA this year. We'd spent Thanksgiving together (Mom, her boyfriend John, Cindy and her husband dave) at their new house just outside of Boulder, CO. The house was great, the weather was cold but beautifully clear and sunny, the food was good and we did some sightseeing and I got to meet some of their friends and meet up with mine on Saturday night at a bar in Boulder (friends from high school and peace corps). So that was all good, except for the fact that there was high drama involving a huge drunken scene involving John. It ended up putting a big damper on things. So following that, Mom and John split up (after 5 years), and so it was looking to be a rough holiday for her - newly single and neither of her daughters coming home. I decided to surprise her and come home, and plotted with some friends and relatives and then finally got a ticket and a plan. I had to tell her, though but that was sort of fun too -- I sent a centerpiece to her at work and the card said "Guess who's coming to dinner?" and included my flight information. She was so happy, but I couldn't have known then how good it would turn out to be that I was there. I took a red eye flight on Thursday night, and when I arrived on Friday at 8:30 am, groggy and delerious, my mom, aunt and grandmother took me directly to visit my great aunt Jeanette in Pittman NJ. Jeanette's this spunky woman who recently turned 94, but her health has been quickly going downhill in the last few weeks. I'd been hearing updates, and I had a strong feeling this would be the last time I'd ever see her. We had a long visit, and it was upsetting to see her so weakened. We all cried a little bit, and she managed to muster up the strength to say a few words and say goodbye and tell us she loves us. We were all haunted by her eyes - they stared so powerfully, but we couldn't tell what was behind them that she was unable to say.
On Christmas eve, my mom and I got dressed for dinner at my friend Sarah (from college)'s parents' place in New Hope, PA, and we each chose something from Jeanette's jewelry box to wear. A few hours later, we heard her phone ring during dinner, and she took the call. It was the hospice nurse telling us that she'd died that evening. It was sad, of course, but almost a relief. She'd lived a really long time and told us repeatedly that she was ready to go. But it just sort of cast the whole Christmas in a new, muted spirit. We had breakfast with my grandma and aunt the next morning and had to tell them when they came over, and then tell the rest of the family when they arrived for dinner. Plus, my mom is the power of attorney and executor of her will (my aunt is my grandpa's older sister; he died my first year in peace corps, and she outlived her siblings and her husband), so she had to call all the members of the family all day. Normally, I meet my high school friends at the General Lafayette Inn in Lafayette Hill, an old revolutionary war era inn that's now a brewpub, on Christmas eve, but this year I had to miss it to stay home and be with everyone as they made funeral plans. Basically, I cleaned up the kitchen and then had to be there for my mom once her day of telling everyone all day was over. I couldn't exactly say I was coming home to help her but then bail on her when she needed me to party with my friends. So that was sort of tough, too. I'm glad I could be there for her though.
It was very fortunate for me and for my mom, especially, that I came home this year.
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| free agent |
[08 Nov 2005|12:22pm] |
Well, I just got some disappointing news, and in an unexpected way. Last week, my boss asked me to have lunch with him this week, which is as soon as his schedule would allow once the massive grant application he's/we've been working on is due. It's scheduled for Thursday. I knew it would be about my future here, but wasn't sure in which direction the conversation would go. The feedback he's given me has been good, though minimal and at my request, but I'd been given very little direction or work on the big projects; instead, I was just sort of left to work on policy on my own. That was fine with me because I like writing policy and there's a lot to be done, though more direction would have been helpful, but I wondered why I was not being utilized for the purpose they'd supposedly hired me - to help with the grant and report, as well as policy. With policy becoming my main focus, it seemed more than ever that there'd be a reason - and a need - to keep me on. This sentiment was echoed by everyone I spoke to that had a need for more solid policy, particularly the field.
Then today I got a letter from the Union. I'd been ignoring their requests for me to join this summer since I was an intern, and now I'm just a sort of direct-hire temp. This letter said I had to join by the 15th or they'd begin proceedings to get me terminated. I called the woman and she simply told me I have no choice, and that my job category falls within their contract, so I have to join. I went to the operations manager who deals with this stuff to see if she could explain to me exactly what that means and why, in my situation, I would be required or beholden to them in any way, since i don't have benefits, and am short-term. It turns out that as a 6 month temp, that's when it kicks in that I must join, but that I am not allowed to be a fulltime temp for more than 6 months, according to university rules. After this month, they'd need to create a position, which I'd have to apply for. Creating university positions takes time - about 3 months, so there'd be a gap. And she told me that hiring is sort of leveling off right now. I'm not certain that's true, but it's obviously her way of saying don't count on it. I'm not sure if that's personal or just related to her belief that there isn't an ongoing need for what I've been doing. I disagree, based on the amount of work there was to be done, and the feedback I received from co-workers, but it's not my decision to make. I'm guessing that she, like the rest of admin, is just really clueless about their hiring needs, which is really sad and unfortunate. I like working here, like the people and the work that I was doing. There are not many people who get excited about policy, and I think that if they're foolish enough to let me go, then they deserve to lose me.
But that little personal pep talk aside, I'm really disappointed, a bit hurt, and bummed. It's put me in quite a down mood this afternoon. I'm going at 3 to have an interview for this part time holiday gig I'd talked about getting at Gordon Biersch, and it feels ridiculous and sad to me that I'm praying I'll get hired for a holiday waitressing job. I've gotta perk up by then or I won't even get hired there. And Friday is a university holiday, which means I don't get paid as an hourly employee (sucks!) so I've scheduled an interview at a temp agency. So at least there's that. Hopefully I can get something lined up to get me through the next month or so... I can get any job, but what I want is the right job. This is really getting old.
So I'm a free agent now, as of the end of this month. Anyone have any job leads for me?
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| Yikes! Yellow! |
[03 Nov 2005|12:11pm] |
Note to self and others: Never paint yourself yellow, for any reason. If you do, don't look at yourself or any photos of yourself. Truly frightening. Yellow skin does nothing for me. Nor does lime green. Hence: scary Marge!
I want to post a pic here but I don't know how. Help?
Then again, maybe that's a really bad idea: Hey, I look horrible, want to see?"
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| The sound of settling |
[02 Nov 2005|10:51am] |
I turned down a job offer from a friend who is working in Sri Lanka this week. I'm still thinking about it, although I know I won't accept it. It was a really hard thing, saying no to that... It would be great experience, in an interesting and beautiful country, and where help is still really needed in Tsunami recovery. It would also be a great opportunity to get that first job out of grad school that I so desperately need--my big break, and great hands-on experience with an established organization. Yet in spite of all those reasons to go, there is the fact that I am just not ready. I am feeling the call of being here, setting down roots for a while. It's fine for Christie and Steve, who have been together for years (and he quits his job and goes with her when she travels) and will have each other for the 2 year contract. But the fact remains that I've only just gotten back and begun to unpack and finally feel adjusted and am not ready to pack it all up again and leave for 2 years. Alone. Especially that alone part.
I'm 31, have been essentially single for 3 years, and although my heart is truly in international work, it's really a very lonely thing to live in another culture for long periods of time. I love it, but I don't particularly want to go it alone again. It's a very common complaint in this line of work, and I don't honestly know what my chances are of finding someone--a partner/boyfriend/husband--who is willing to be my partner in crime, so to speak, in these sort of adventures. I wouldn't *have* to go abroad again for a long term gig, but likely there'd be some travel. And I like living abroad. It would be cool to raise a family somewhere else for a while. I wish I'd had that opportunity as a kid! I can't imagine how cool it would be to raise bi-lingual children. I'd be jealous that they're smarter than me :)
So despite knowing all of that, and knowing that it's what I really want, I know the timing isn't right. And it still sort of hurts, letting a cool opportunity like that pass. But sometimes all you've got to go on is instinct, and this one just doesn't feel right. Sigh.
It's still good to be back in Seattle. Rain or no rain. Hopefully snow!
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| about a bed |
[01 Nov 2005|10:57am] |
Moving is really a big pain in the arse. I've been back in the U.S. now since June, in Seattle since mid-June. I'm on my second apartment since then. In a fabulous stroke of luck, I got an entire bedroom set given to me by a friend, just in time for my move. I used that bed until such time as I was able to retrieve my own bed, which I love, out of its various storage locations.
Headache #1: the mattress at a classmate's grandmother's house in Magnolia. This headache involved first getting manpower (Mom was in town), a vehicle (Eric generously lent his truck, and though he didn't know it, his strength), and coordination of previously mentioned people as well as Carrie, at whose grandmother's house it was stored. That was not as simple as it would sound; on the arranged night, Carrie was told she had a required family dinner and kicked up the pressure on the timeline a notch. We piled in the truck pronto and followed her up dark winding roads to the house, where we discovered this would be a lot harder than we expected.
Headache #2: THe mattress was easy; the box spring a total nightmare. It had been forcibly shoved down some narrow, curving steps into a basement door that was not meant for it to fit through. Only through stubbornness, creativity and brute force (thanks, Eric!) did we actually get it out, to our own amazement and exhaustion. Then the mattresses lived in our dining area for a month against the wall (classy!) until I could get the frame, housed at my cousin's house in Kirkland.
Headache #3: The frame. It should be noted that I have no car. I had a borrowed car for a few weeks when my Aunt was back east, but the frame would not fit in it. I collected the rest of my belongings from the other Aunt and Uncle's place on the eastside, but had to wait for my cousin to deliver the frame. That finally happened last week. Then I had all the pieces, but no one to help me for a few days. Stubborn and foolish as I am, I can't hold two pieces of the queen-sized frame apart AND slide the middle piece between them. So I got my roommmate and her friend Liz to help me with that on Sunday evening, whereupon I discovered that the alan wrenches that I had were the wrong size. I used to have a whole set, and whether they went the route of the ex-boyfriend (given or stored and lost) or the bike (stored more publicly than I'd expected), I'm not sure, but apparently I no longer own them, or any of the rest of my tools. So I put it together the best that I could with no wrenches, which left it a little bit wobbly, and me a bit nervous sleeping in it.
Headache #4: Tools for the frame. Last night I trucked up Queen Anne hill and met Karl for a beer and to borrow his extensive set of "hex wrenches" as he informed me I am to call them. I wore a pink wig just because it was halloween and therefore I could do it without getting stared at. (Who doesn't love a long, pink wig? Even Karl tried it on.) I got to see his secret above-ground lair that not many have been allowed to access, and then I later got to put my bed solidly together and not be afraid that it would collapse and kill me in my sleep.
Now there is the other bed to deal with--it's in the main room. Christine is sleeping on a crappy bed she inherited when she moved in--some bad mattresses on a squeaky old fution frame. She agreed that she could sleep on this one, which is good but just not as big or as soft as mine (which is why i switched) until she moves out in January. So now we have to switch her bed, and then get rid of the one she's been using. We'll either post it on CL or just put it outside with a "free" sign. Hopefully this week. I would like to graduate from the phase of having a bed leaning against the wall anywhere in our apartment.
It's still amazing to me how long it took to get one simple bed, and how many details and people had to be involved in keeping it for 3 years and getting it to me now. Last night, as I lay warm and comfy in it, I was very grateful to all of them...
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