Life, Love, and Ceiling Paint

Moving On

2009-10-30T09:45:00.001-07:00

I am sitting at my desk in my room, surrounded by only somewhat organized chaos, deliberating what my next move is. Well, I guess in the grand scheme of things, I know what my next move is. I have recently accepted a position to be Area Coordinator (also often called "Resident Director") at my alma mater. I begin work in about a month, and couldn't be more excited. With this position comes a move from Boston to Hartford, and with this move comes a lot of sorting of belongings and purchasing of new furnishings and household items. And with this sorting, I am learning, comes a fair amount of angst on my part.

For example, I am going through several items that my mother so kindly shuffled back into my room for me to go through. In this pile, I find a small metal and wooden loom, meant for making beaded bracelets, originally a part of a kit given to me for Christmas from a dear family friend of ours who passed away a couple years ago. It looks like part of the loom is missing, although I can't really remember what parts it involved. I'm sure it would be a useful tool to someone, but I (a) know nothing about beading bracelets on a tiny loom, and (b) am not sure if the instructions are still somewhere in the house. In other words, the sweet loom is of no use to me. Why does it pain me to say that? And what do I do with it now? It seems to sad to put it in the trash and watch it get squished by the garbage truck tomorrow. Also in this pile is a sweet baby-doll bouncy seat, a couple rubber ducks (?), two wallets I used at one point years ago, and other odds and ends once important.

I am such a big fan of the simplistic lifestyle - keep your space uncluttered, filled with things that you love and are useful. However, 22 years of accumulating stuff from birthdays, Christmas, hand-me-downs, impulse buys, and other consumer-moments from before I came to love living simply, have resulted in a lot of STUFF! And what do I do with it now? I hate to see it go completely to waste. Would the Salvation Army even take an ambiguous tiny loom? It doesn't feel good to pawn stuff off on other people either. In high school, I volunteered at a Thrift Shop in Beverly for a couple months, and my position was to sort and price donations in the back room to put up for sale in the shop. I didn't like trying to figure out what to do with some old toaster over attachment any more than the person who dropped it off did.

In addition to not knowing what to do with these items, I also have a hard time becoming unattached to them. Admittedly, I probably wouldn't have noticed their absence were they to have disappeared from my room without my seeing. But the thought of actively getting rid of things I once loved or desired and which were thoughtfully given my friends and relatives is a little saddening. I really am such a tormented mix of my parents: my mother, who loves to get rid of clutter and simplify, and my father, who loves to surround himself with anything and everything that belongs to him, lest he someday need it (from the lock on the old garden gate to every sailing magazine he's ever gotten in the mail). Conversely, my mother is the disorganized one (but at least her mess is simple and useful?), while my dad's clutter looks like a library. Like my Godfather once said in a toast after my graduation from high school, "She is a perfect blend of her parents: Her mother's head isn't quite screwed on tight enough, and her dad's is screwed on a little too tight. She turned out just right."

But perhaps not just right, at least not just yet. At the very least, I have a lot more learning to to when it comes to handling my desire to not be wasteful or neglectful of things once dear to me and my desire to live simply and uninhibited by too many unneeded items (e.g., the tiny loom).

Like Thoreau said, "Simplify, simplify, simplify." But what did he do with all the stuff he already had before he decided to leave it all for a cabin in the woods? Craigslist?

I'm going to keep pushing forward in this quest to organize and pack, and I think the trick might be first determining what outlets are available (Salvation Army, thrift stores, consignment stores, and (sigh) the curb). And once those are decided, designating a big box or bag to each and just plowing through everything you've got. Keep, give away, throw out.

I'll let you know how it goes.

10 Ways to Go to New York on a Non-Existent Budget

2009-10-15T11:56:00.000-07:00

Happy Thursday!

I am writing now from the little office of the apartment in Hartford where I am housesitting. Or dogsitting really. The little dog, an unbelieveably soft caramel and white Shih-Tzu, is prehaps one of the sweetest critters on the face of the earth. I love him. A lot. This is the third time that my boyfriend and I have looked after him and he never fails to meet our expectations of his lovability.

Anyway, this past weekend, my boyfriend and I went to New York to visit a few friends. As I have zero substantial income at this point, I decided it would be a good idea to plan a budget beforehand so that (a) we'd have some idea of what kind of expenses we'd have and (b) we could plan alternatives if needed in order to save some money. After careful planning, and lots of mental-notetaking during the trip, I have come up with the following list of ways in which to avoid going broke (or in my case, broker) on your trip to the city. Here it is:

#1) Decide whether it makes more sense to drive or take some form of public transportation. If you're coming from a city to the city, public transportation might be a great option. Peter Pan and Greyhound (I think they work together? I usually book with Greyhound and end up on a Peter Pan Bus...who knows), Mega Bus (which apparently has $1 deals if you catch them on time, check out the website), and my favorite, Lucky Star (only available from Boston to NY, and stops at the casinos but eventually gets you where you want to go...just don't get off the bus too early), are all nice bus options, many of which have wifi available. From Boston at least, the train is the most expensive, but maybe that's not true everywhere. There is a big 'however' here though. If you are traveling with a group (small enough to fit in someone's car) AND if you will be staying somewhere that has free parking (or maybe at least very cheap parking) you might want to consider driving. Which is what we did this weekend. About $40 in gas round trip, plus about $20 in tolls (ew, I hate those, especially some of the bridges which charge $8-$10 now!), ended up being less expensive than 2 round trip tickets on the bus. And it helped us be a little more flexible.

#2) Stay with a friend. If you don't have any friends in or directly around the city, go find some, because hotels costs are not to be believed. So bake some cookies or something and be a really good houseguest so they'll want to invite you back again.

#3) Make a list of the places you want to go, where they are, their hours, and what the entrance fees are (if applicable). This way, you can get an idea of where the places you are interested in seeing are located, helping you travel more efficiently and spend less time crossing the city on trains or rickshaws or however you've decided to move around. Putting this information on paper or a spreadsheet is also helpful for visualizing how much is costs to visit each place (and appreciate the ones that don't cost anything). In our case, we were interested in visiting The Cloisters in Tryon Park, and after looking up hours and other information, found that the $10 entrance fee there is also good for a same day visit to The Met. And who doesn't love a 2 for 1 deal?

#4) Get a rough idea of how much you'll be riding the subway and purchase a pass with the largest amount suitable to your needs. The MetroCards for NYC's subway give you a little extra depending on how much money you put on the pass (e.g., for a $10 card purchase, you get $1.50 extra, etc.). The more you put on the card, the more you get. Try not to put more than you'll need on there though, because the cards do expire after about a month or something. Lame, I know. Charlie Cards never expire.

#5) Use the subway, not cabs. Taking a cab is a really good way to fork over a lot of cash in return for a relatively boring and uneducational experience.

#6) Pack picnic lunches, snacks, and beverages. A surprisingly impressive money saver, I learned! Just think of how much you spend on meals on the go when wandering around a city with as many food options as New York! Packing sandwiches, drinks, cookies, trail mix, and whatever else you love to snack on is a great way to avoid those little expenses that add up quickly. Who doesn't want to snack in Central Park?

#7) Don't block the box. Because if you do, you'll get a $115 ticket, and that's no good for the budgeting.

#8) Think ahead and come prepared. If you can, avoid having to buy stuff (like a bottle of Advil, etc.) if you already have some you can bring with you just in case. Obviously this doesn't apply to everything, as there are a lot of things you can't forsee.

#9) Avoid bars. The kind you drink at, I mean. But probably also the kind you can get hurt walking into. If you really are craving a bar night, cut it down to onw night of the weekend. It can be just as much fun to get a bottle of wine and have a night in with friends at your friend's place (you remember, the friend you made who's place you're staying at?).

#10) Don't go shopping. Don't even tempt yourself. Remember, this is the list of tips for the person with the nonexistent budget. If you have money, please do go shopping. If you don't, it will just be torture. Go to the zoo instead (ooooo, monkeys!!).

A special treat for you...because I am still so calm today

2009-10-08T07:32:00.001-07:00

Still not freaking out (several hours later)

2009-10-07T20:42:00.000-07:00

I have misplaced a couple of important items (and I still don't have a job or a cookie, which I also really want right now), but I'm not freaking out at all. I just wanted to share that.

Starting to Get a Clue

2009-10-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

Last night I was lying in bed for three hours before I was able to fall asleep. My mind was actually racing (what the heck, mind?!) thinking about everything from the day and every other thought that branched off each of those occurrences. When am I ever going to find a job? What have I been getting done with all these scheduleless days? Why didn't I use my free time to go to the gym twice today? I can't believe I forgot to use that LL Bean coupon before it expired. Are the things that make me angry these days at all legitimate or have I completely lost perspective? Why did my friend's sister un-friend me on facebook? Why does that even bother me? Is this just a phase I'm going through or am I actually losing my mind? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?

Eventually, I must have thought myself into an exhausted oblivion and gone to sleep. But that wasn't much fun at all.

I've always been a pretty anxious person, but it's only lately that slight anxiety has turned into stress. I know that I am more than capable of telling myself to snap out of it - even when I was little and freaking out about something, I was always able to can it and move on...if I chose to do so. But increasingly, I find myself fueling my freak out fire, allowing myself to believe that if I'm not freaking out I'm not going to get anywhere. Like sometimes when I'm on an airplane and it gets turbulant, while I'm capable of not stressing out about it, I tell myself that I really need to be focusing on it and stressing out internally. Do I think that influences the situation? I guess I must. I should probably get over that. And it seems that that psychotic mantra of mine has permeated my current bohemian nomad lifestyle. Yes, you're unemployed. Yes, you should be applying to as many positions as you can and be getting your name and your resume out there. Yes, you have been doing that (8 cover letters from yesterday? SUBMITTED. Plus 4 today). Yes, even so, you have chunks of free time on your hands, the kind you always wish you had in high school and college when instead you were booked solid in half hour intervals. Yes, you could scrapbook or read or learn to knit or go for walks around the beautiful city or relax. But do you? No. And why not? Because I don't have a job or a path or a schedule or a plan and I am very busy STRESSING OUT OVER THAT THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

So now is when I've decided that will stop. As long as I'm doing everything I can to keep things moving forward (my current trend of 3-8 job applications a day should cover that...), I am going to allow myself to chill out in the down time. I am going to window shop on Charles Street, craft, send letters, maybe even watch a movie! It must be a symptom of my Catholicism that I feel undeserving of having fun when I don't feel like I'm working hard. I love and am very thankful for my faith and the community it was fostered in...but I can see how I might develop these kinds of thinking patterns. But it's my own fault really. My Catholic high school's motto was "Courage and Confidence," not "Stress and Deprivation".

So how am I going to remember to forget this silly must-be-stressed-to-survive ideal? I thought maybe some physical reminder, like a string around my finger. Or maybe a silly little ring to keep on my hand and see all the time. Maybe that's what I'll do. I can spare a few dollars for some costume jewelry that might keep me from shaving years off my life from needless stress. I'm not drowning in debt. I'm not actually homeless. So maybe I can't drive, but I'm going to fix that. And yes, I dislike being all over the place and living our of a suitcase for a large percentage of the time these days, but that's not permanent and I am doing things to try and change that.

I wish I could remember exactly what Gerrison Keillor said last weekend on A Prairie Home Companion last weekend, but it was something along the lines of how life expectancy increases dramatically in times of economic uncertainty (specifically maybe he said when unemployment rates are up). Isn't that strange? Wouldn't you think people get more stressed out about finding work or money or anything else to worry about during difficult financial times? Keillor's point was that people are less stressed because they're not rushing all over the place working on a million things. I don't know how accurate that is, but it did get me thinking.

That's all for now - off to look for a ring or something.

About nothing, really...

2009-10-06T12:33:00.000-07:00

Well, so much for an interesting experience to blog about 2 weeks ago... I am sitting in my favorite Starbucks not far from my house, where I like to go to get work done (or to work on job and graduate school applications). I usually buy a coffee or a frappuccino (yum!) and sometimes even a cookie (extra yum!), and claim one of the tiny tables to sit at for a few hours. Usually, the nice baristas give me a smile when I come in, knowing that I plan to be there for at least the next 4 hours. Today, none of my barista friends were working (where have they gone?), and instead the nice young lady behind the counter gave me a receipt with a survey to take and get a free beverage on my next visit! How exciting.

Anyway, I currently really want to get one of the delicious chocolate-chocolate-chip cookies, but am 30 cents short. Or, I was 30 cents short until I found 12 cents on the windowsill next to me. I am now secretly scanning the floor for another 18 cents so I can afford my cookie without having to use my debit card. We'll see how that goes.

The reason I came to my little coffee haven today was so that I would (a) leave the house, and (b) start and finish 8 cover letters for 8 different positions I am applying for. My motivation to do this is almost nonexistent. I am somewhat glad that I haven't kept better track of the number of cover letters I've written, resumes I've tweaked, online applications I've filled out, and overall positions I've applied for, because I think the number might depress me (and maybe even you). It's somewhere in the 60s. But I figure now, if I put on my darling little blog that I am going to write 8 cover letters, I better do it, right? I can't lie to the Interwebs. Anyway, enough with that, the cookie story is enough sad for one blog post.

Anyway, I better get back to those cover letters. I wish I had something interesting to say, but it seems I am at a loss. Hopefully something blogworthy soon.

Goals

2009-09-23T21:08:00.000-07:00

Tonight, a friend of mine told me that she'd read somewhere that people who write down their long-term goals are significantly more likely to accomplish them. So that's one of my projects for tomorrow: write down my long term goals. I don't know if my lovely little blog is the right place for these kinds of goals (although I do find it useful to write down the short term stuff on here!), so I think I'll put them in a paper journal so that it's a little more concrete.

That's all for now - I'll try to have some interesting experiences to share tomorrow.

Day 2 of Keeping Calm (and Carrying On)

2009-09-22T21:01:00.000-07:00

OK, so maybe I shouldn't call today Day 2 of Keeping Calm and Carrying On... Yesterday I was definitely Perturbed and Stopping. But today (oh today), today was practically glorious. I woke up in Brighton (on a cot at a friend's house, not in a phone booth or anything like that), after my only reader all but dragged me from my very exclusive pity party that I threw my house last night. So I went back to my only reader's apartment with her, where we ate gluten-free food (see previous post), watched fabulous trashy television with her non-trashy roommates, and I made fun of her for putting together a birthday care package which is now at least 2 weeks late.

Anyway, after I woke her up when she slept through an hour's worth of alarms approximately 10 minutes after she usually gets on the train, we rode the Green Line in to Boylston Street where she got a bagel and I got a cup of coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. And I think that was where the real magic began. As my only reader and I parted ways, she to her office in Chinatown (ironically, directly across the street from AquaWorld, where Neptune's magic tea tree extract medicine came from, more on that later) and I through the Boston Commons back to my dilapidated apartment, I rapidly developed a new sense of self. Or perhaps started to regain a refreshed version of my old one. It was 8:40, I was alive, awake, educated, blonde, and unemployed, but had things to do! So as I sipped my coffee (practically heated coffee ice cream, so sinfully sweet) and listened to the homeless man who always sits in the middle of the park announcing the latest headlines ("IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF FALL! IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF FALL! 76 DEGREES AND SUNNY, BUT IT'S GONNA RAIN TOMORROW FOLKS SO BRING YOUR UMBRELLAS! RED SOX LOST BUT SO DID THE YANKEES! IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF FALL!"), I became more empowered. So what I don't have a full time job or a place to live with a functioning kitchen? Neither does this guy and he's making himself useful!

So I arrived back at my house, having made it clear to myself that I was not going to let the state of things bother me. I climbed the 57 steps to my small bedroom, got on the computer, and started researching graduate schools. "Look at all these places I can apply!" So exciting. All the classes are in things you're interested in. Even more exciting! Some of them don't even require the GRE. BLISS.

So with this new project on my radar, I got cleaned up for my almost daily trip to the Charles Street Starbucks, where I buy myself a coffee or a bagel (or today, a sandwich!) and camp out at a table for hours to get work done. Today's project: Thesis edits. So I sat there going through all 87 pages that came out of my brain this past Spring, getting it ready for use in a publication by a Connecticut nonprofit. Towards the end of my editing, my friend Jennifer, who has been by my side since I was 4 months old, popped in to rescue me from my revising (and the guy in lederhosen who had asked to share a table with me). We wandered around for a while and I talked to her about how hopeless the apartment was but how at least now I seemed to have a positive outlook in other areas. And Jen, as she usually does, had some levelheaded and optimistic feedback in all areas and helped me devise a wonderful plan, the details of which I have decided to keep to myself so that it is my personal and secret project (fun!). We chatted and browsed some stores -- I bought myself some yoga capri pants I've been wanting -- and I left feeling better than I had in a while. I went home and (drum roll please) finished the thesis edits (available for viewing here).

Aaaand then I found a bunch of money. No, really. In my bank account! For some of the work I'd been doing on the side coding transcriptions. Thank you, direct deposit!

So after putting something of a seal on what has been over a year's worth of research, coordinating, planning, outlining, writing, and revising, I was suddenly filled to the brim with energy and had to go to the gym. Or maybe it was the new yoga pants. But I went and spent an hour and a half kicking my own butt (in a good way). I'm sure I'll regret it in the morning.

When I got home, I got a call from a good friend of mine in San Francisco, who was having a really rough day consisting of multiple burns on her leg and a general blah feeling of being unattached and having nobody to go to when she was having a bad day. So she and I got to talking, and I told her how fantastic I thought it was that she was doing what she was doing. About 8 months ago, she moved into the city in San Francisco, leaving all of her family back in Massachusetts, with noo definite plan, no solid place to live, and no job. Crazy or brave, you decide. I think it's a cyclical combination. After living the nomad lifestyle for a little while and getting most of her posessions stolen out of someone's car, she secured 2 jobs (one of which involves gelato - YUM), an apartment in a really nice area, and not one but 2 mopeds. She takes care of everything herself. How cool is that? Much unlike me, she really jumped out on a limb and managed to land on her feet. And she's doing really well and is completely self-sufficient! And while she may not be in a relationship with someone at the moment, I tried to help her see how what she was doing now would really only increase the chances of a good relationship later on. Who wouldn't want to date someone with a million experiences and great stories who is fully capable of standing on her own two feet? Ne-Yo does. And she's a wonderful, big-minded, friendly, hardworking person (AND she's cute), so she has a lot going for her.

And while I was telling her all of this, I realized how terribly far I have fallen from that existence I both admire and strive for. I almost never stay up late, so my brain is hardly functioning, but I'd like to leave myself with this message: Keep calm, carry on, and FIGURE IT OUT. This situation is challenging but not impossible, so I will be better at doing what I have to to create the change I need to be a happy, functioning, productive individual.

"Keep Calm and Carry On"

2009-09-20T20:36:00.000-07:00

Tonight, my goldfish and I are both feeling a bit sick. I'm slightly more worried about my goldfish, Neptune, because he's been so lethargic and has lost weight. My online fish care resources tell me that he has a fairly common goldfish illness in his tail, which can be fixed with some special fish medicine, so tomorrow I will be walking to Chinatown to Aqua World in the hopes that they have what Neptune needs to feel better. Poor Neptune.

And while there is a medicine to help little Neptune, there is no cure for my common cold, so I will use the opportunity to stay warm and cozy in a good pair of sweatpants (excluding, of course, that trip to Chinatown) while I make a series of ambitious to-do lists.

This weekend was the memorial service for a very dear family friend of ours. She, Lucy, and her husband, Pat, served as my surrogate grandparents, showing up for grandparents day and other milestones that my own grandparents couldn't make it to (they lived a 6 hour plane ride away in San Francisco). For a long time when I was little, I used to confuse my grandmother and Lucy - they looked so similar in my tiny person brain. She and Pat lived in a beautiful house on the top of a cliff in Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA, which looked over the ocean and rocks and a gardens and flowers that sprawled all the way down the rocks of the cliff until the rocks hit the ocean below. And of course when you're little, you barely notice how beautiful these things are. For the last ten years, Lucy had been suffering from Alzheimer's, slowly deteriorating first in mind and then in body. And since the beginning, Pat had been taking care of her, always by her side. Just about every weekend after Lucy got sick, my parents and I would go out to dinner with this amazing couple, until about 7 years ago, they moved to North Carolina to be closer to their daughter and her family, and where Lucy could get better care. My mom drove with them to North Carolina to help make the trip a little less stressful. And when they had moved, there was a definite emptiness in our family's existence back in Manchester, and somehow we never managed to travel down to visit them over these past years. It's amazing and awful how much "life" can get in the way of the most important things it consists of. After receiving the invitation to my cotillion after my senior year of high school, he wrote to regretfully decline, expressing how much he wished he could be there to have the first dance with me. It really broke my heart.

This weekend though, it was wonderful to see everyone from this family, as they all managed to come together for the service: from Arizona, North Carolina, New Mexico, and even Afghanistan. Everyone was there to celebrate Lucy's life. Pat looked wonderful and healthy - almost unchanged since I saw him last - and he's now 87! And he kept staring at me, saying that he had to keep looking to see that it was really me, that he couldn't believe that the woman he was looking at was the girl he had last seen 7 years ago. In the commotion of the weekend, any moment I had to go and talk with him was quickly interrupted by someone else wanting to greet him or have a word before they left. By the time he was picking up to leave for the airport with his daughter and her family, I'd barely been able to speak with him at all. But when I went to give him a hug before he left, he gave me a big squeeze and said "my girl".

Anyway, it was an odd feeling to be there surrounded by Pat and Lucy's actual grandkids. I was shocked when the eldest, a published author and contributing writer for several magazines, informed me that he hadn't seen his grandfather in three years and that he, too, thought he looked well and healthy. I remember when Pat and Lucy would gear up for the visit of one or more of their grandkids. I would help them find the boxes of toys in the attic for the younger boys or the collection of videos for one of the granddaughters. Once they'd arrived, I would come over to be the playdate for the week. It was funny to have all the siblings in one room at the same time, as I'd really only gotten to know them separately on their individual visits (with the exception of the two youngest who I babysat for several years - fantastic girls). But I definitely felt out of place, because as Pat and Lucy's descendants buzzed around to snap pictures of Pat with his relatives, they had no idea that he meant perhaps even more to me than he did to their kids who saw him and Lucy so rarely.

This summer has certainly been an intense series of events, perhaps seemingly more intense because I feel a little bit like the earth has been ripped out from underneath me. Lack of stability certainly seems to make the sad seem devastating. While the summer may not have been one of losses, necessarily, it has at least been one of losses revisited: the loss of my friend, of Pat and Lucy's presence, of my own "actual" grandparents, of my routine, of an obvious purpose in life (e.g. "finish this assignment" or "make it to graduation"), of a relative calm. But with this revisitation of loss, I guess, comes reevaluation of what's still around. There's no reason I should go another year without a visit to Pat in North Carolina, without a good look a the great friends I have, without an enhanced appreciation for the potential I have to do good things when I find a job and before I do.

So this week I am going to relax and cease my freakouts over unemployment and general malaise. My mantra for the week comes from a message issued by the British government (during the reign of King George) to its people in 1939: "Keep Calm and Carry On". What an idea? This is exactly what I will do.

In a past barely remembered and never revisited

2009-09-14T18:34:00.000-07:00

If you think to yourself, “What should I do now?”
Then take the baton, and girl, you better run with it.
'Cause there is no point in standing in the past cause it’s over and done with.
- Belle & Sebastian

Well. Today I heard back from a friend I've known for ages. I'd written her an email a couple weeks ago to apologize for my part of an argument we'd had 4 full years ago, and she responded, saying that she accepted my apology but that ultimately this apology wouldn't be able to fix the problems in our friendship that were likely the result of incompatible personalities. She said she'd heard from people that I was doing well and had a lovely boyfriend and that it sounded like I'd really grown in the past few years. In sum, she explained that while she heard I was "changed", that her bad memories of me would prevent us from being friends again.

For many of the years of our friendship (at least a solid 11), this friend had managed to let me know, in one way or another, that I was lacking something - be it a great vocabulary, experiences, an open mind. Her demeanor and her personality often resulted in many thoughtless comments, which always managed to sting me. And I would sting back, trying to casually bring her down a peg or two. Not the right thing to do, I know. As we grew older, her beliefs that my more conservative self was fundamentally inferior to her free spirit became more apparent. And before we knew it, we were combustible materials when combined.

Her brief message stirred up about a trillion emotions for me. I was, at first, depressed at the thought of my horrible former self. The kind who was mean and critical and close-minded. I hated not being able to change how I acted as a little girl, a little girl who hurt her best friend constantly. I sat with that feeling for a while, cleaned my half-apartment, put away laundry, watched a movie. That night I couldn't sleep. I felt like I do when I've had coffee after 4 pm.

I didn't begin to sort out my thoughts into a response until 2 days later as I sat in a garage while my boyfriend and his boss attempted to fix the brakes on a car. I started to write, deleted it all, started it over, tried to outline, gave up, and eventually simply wrote to my former friend my thoughts exactly as they came to me right there in the garage. I retraced my memories of our friendship starting with the earliest in grammar school, all the way through high school. As I did so, I realized that I wasn't an ogre, as her email had made me feel. That she was equally guilty of unkindness, that it took two of us to argue the way we did. The difference was that her confidence had been much stronger than mine. I asked that she consider that. That before she assert that my flaws were the reason for the end of our friendship, that she consider the extent to which she contributed. That amidst her song and dance about openmindedness and acceptance (and how this was somehow something I was lacking!), that really what she was saying that I needed to drop my own ideals and pick up hers (the openminded ones).

Anyway, I spent so long writing back to her, hoping that she could take a moment to stop thinking of me as a closeminded ogre and instead acknowledge the little bit of ogre in both of us. I believed that the things I was writing were probably things she hadn't considered before and assumed that she'd probably take some time before she wrote back. But the reply to my novel of an email came just a few hours later. And it was pretty lame. She explained that I had misunderstood what she meant by "changed." And that all the things I mentioned were in a past that she barely remembered and never revisited. But that if I wanted to get together sometime over drinks to tell her more about myself, she'd be more than happy. Shut downnnnn.

So what now? Do I write back and say "Thanks but no thanks"? Do I write back at all? As Ben Folds says, "I poured my heart out, and it evaporated". I get that now.

Anyway, I'm not sure. I am glad that this friend, or former friend, and I corresponded, because although I wasn't able to help her see that I am not, and was not, bad, mean, unkind, --and I had let her convince me of that for years!-- I was able to help myself see that. And that feels pretty liberating.

Grown-Up Tantrums

2009-09-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

Observing, or even worse, being somehow related to, a small child's tantrum can be remarkably offputting. It took me a long time and many babysitting engagements to "master" (can you ever?) the art of coping with a kid's tantrum. The best advice I ever got was from the mother of the children I watched for 8 years, who helped me understand that sometimes you just need to let the child blow off steam. When they're little that is. As the kid gets older, losing control of acceptable behavior becomes increasingly inappropriate and they need to be told when they're crossing the line. But 6 and 7 year olds freak out too, and its their parents' (or sometimes babysitter's) responsibility to help them learn to get a hold of their emotions and cool down on their own. Most people get there (I think). But then there are those who definitely don't. Which brings me to the topic of this post: The Grown-Up Tantrum. Now, I'll be perfectly honest, I am 100% guilty of an occasional freak out; I like things to be organized, focused, healthy, and on occasion when life gets a little more tangled...so do I. Usually over something embarassingly minimal (WHERE IS THE SPECIAL MEASURING CUP THAT GOES WITH MY STEAM CLEANER? WHO MOVED MY MEASURING CUP? WHY CAN'T THINGS STAY IN ONE PLACE?), sometimes over something more important ('EMPIRE TODAY'??? TRY 'EMPIRE 4 WEEKS FROM NOW'!!!). I like to think that I can tell when I'm being unreasonable (although sometimes ex post facto...or perhaps ex post tantrum-o).

But I got a call from a friend this afternoon who explained to me his current situation with a roommate. I don't know this young woman, but given that my very kindhearted friend chose to associate with her in the first place, I am left to assume that she is generally a nice person. But this story did not reflect any nice qualities. My friend, upon deciding that it was time to find a new living situation for reasons well-contemplated on his part, explained to his roommate that he would be moving out in 2 months. Reasonable, no? Well, that's my friend for you. He's a pretty reasonable guy. But the roommate's reaction? Definitely not so reasonable (see photo above). She called him a series of inappropriate names (which, I might add, when combined were entirely contradictory) and told him he might as well move out immediately.

So what now? Does my friend stick around in the house with elevated levels of hostility in the air? Or does he pack up and move out? What would a good babysitter do? What does a good person do? Help his friend (or perhaps now acquaintance?) understand the situation and cope with her upset? Or is that beyond his job description as a friend and not a babysitter? Are adults able to learn that sometimes we don't get what we want, or is that something that you need to have learned before you turned 9 and now we're past the cutoff?

I'm not sure.

My advice anyway is that my friend continue to be the bigger person in this situation. I imagine it's easy to get discouraged and believe that constantly being the "nice guy" will inevitably lead you to get trampled on.But I think as long as you're not acting like a doormat, I like to hope that there are nice people who appreciate fellow nice people, and opt not to trample on them. Surround yourself with those non-tramplers. Unless she gets crazy heinous, I vote that you stay there in your room, be courteous, clean up only what you need to (literally and metaphorically) and perhaps take this as a serious indicator of her own issues, and not ones you're at all responsible for.

Gluten Intolerance: Nuisance or Adventure?

2009-09-04T20:46:00.000-07:00

I have just returned from visiting my delightful friend Catherine at her new very cute apartment with another friend, who will remain nameless lest the blog get awkward for her to read. (As she is currently my only reader, we want to keep her happy.) Catherine's new place is very sweet, a sexy "European kitchen," treehouse deck, and fabulous wreath arrangements are a few of its many attractive features. I'm already excited for the housewarming party.

One recurring topic of discussion on this night of many scintillating conversations was that of my anonymous friend's potential newly developed gluten intolerance. A gluten intolerance, also Celiac disease, is "an inherited, autoimmune disease in which the lining of the small intestine is damaged from eating gluten and other proteins found in wheat, barley, rye, and possibly oats" (Thanks Google Health!). This friend seems to believe that her years of delicious food enjoyment will be over, should this intolerance be verified by the professionals. I, however, am of the understanding that this new dietary development would present a whole new world of exciting food stuffs previously irrelevant to, or perhaps simply undiscovered by, our group of swanky recent grads. I know for a fact that homemade gluten-free cookies are particularly delicious and easy to make with the right pre-made baking mix (which we had a huge bag of in our dorm last semester, thanks to a gluten-intolerant friend down the hall who left to go abroad). The only snafu I encountered was having to whip the egg whites by hand due to lack of handheld mixer (I have since remedied this situation, thank you, Family Dollar on Farmington Ave.).

Furthermore, apparently gluten-free snacks are among the fastest growing products on the market (who knew? this lady). This means loads of new and fun snacks! Not to mention the completely outrageous number of baked goods that were made possible by that baking mix from my friend down the hall last semester. And just THINK of the whole new door of opportunities thrown wide open for very original themed parties! How many gluten-free snacks can YOU come up with? And OH any excuse to shop primarily at Whole Foods is totally worth it. Just check out all of these available recipes! Like these brownies!

SCRUMPTIOUS!

So, I suppose my point here, dear anonymous friend, besides the owl lightswitch plate you have promised me should I fix your problem, is that there are several things to be excited about with such dietary adventures (ADVENTURES!) and I'm totally on board, should this intolerance become an actual reality (as opposed to the kind we make up). So think about it, anonymous friend. Those Gluten-O's were delicious.

Three cheers for the new planner!

2009-09-04T06:06:00.000-07:00

Today is a very exciting day in the apartment. Not only do I have a brand new planner (see below), but today (supposedly) the carpet is being installed! How exciting! After the carpet is in, I'll be able to really start unpacking all of my things into that room, which is where the closet is and perhaps start to feel somewhat moved in. This could be a great day.

And then there's the new planner! So I can make extensive to-do lists and schedule my very important appointments in my very important schedule in my very snazzy book. Look how snazzy:

Maybe I'll even get to put up some before-after pictures if Allie, the photo-documenter of all things monumental and otherwise, can send them after work. A nice comparison of what it used to look like might be a great kick in the pants to get the rest of the rooms done.

In other news, I purchased a very cute switchplate for the hallway from Anthropologie yesterday. I'm pretty ready to finish touching up the problem areas in the paint and get it on the wall. Next step, pictures. Get excited.

A Plan for the Day (or at least a list of things to get done)

2009-09-02T06:38:00.000-07:00

1) Measure frames on the first floor to see if they'll fit the prints I want.
2) Measure twin bed on 5th floor and see if it will fit in apartment dressing room.
3) Paint the railing/banister things in apartment.
4) Finish paint touch ups and remove all remaining blue paint.
5) Collect and consolidate "stuff" - begin to put things away in finished places in the apartment (i.e. everywhere but the kitchen and bathroom.
6) Consider possibility of putting desk in dressing room.
7) Figure out how to get the floors extra clean.
8) Gym and shower.
9) Listen to empowering music.
10) Fold and organize clothing - utilize closet despite unfinished carpeting in dressing room.
11) Figure out feasibility of installing own carpet. Once insanity is realized, get an estimate and get it done.
12) Keep in mind the puppy that will be obtained once apartment is finished and job is secured (yay).
13) Check online for new postings in desired field.
14) Maintain good attitude.
15) Build new garden gate with Dad.
16) GO!

Time for an Organizer

2009-09-01T20:46:00.001-07:00

Well, today was productive in its own way, although the apartment is not any closer to being finished and my room is still a mess. But I was able to complete several other tasks outside of the house, as well as a few within, including a couple more job application submissions. I even went to the gym.

My newest addition to the project lineup is to get a new datebook. I've decided I want the kind that holds everything, the kind that you're really lost if you lose. Maybe I should rethink this. Or just duct tape it to my arm.

So I'm now deciding whether my unemployed self should spend too much on one I'll have forever from somewhere really nice, like Kate Spade (ooOOooohhhh! $95 at KateSpade.com),

or go for something more appropriately priced, like something from Target.

Filofax has a lot of very nice ones in a wide range of prices. Like this one, $24.50 at filofaxusa.com:

I better do some research.

My Cat

2009-09-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

This may be a multi-post per day blog until I find full time employment. I'll accept that for now so I can log away this new little story. My younger cat (we have 2 total) likes to drink her water from the tap in the bathroom while it's running. She'll meow at you until you turn it on for her (she's a pretty high maintenance cat, if there is such a thing). Anyway, my father has recently "trained" her somehow to let you know when she's done. She'll hop off the counter and come find you wherever you are in the house to let you know that you can turn the tap off. She must be going green or something.

Blog Settings

2009-08-31T19:33:00.000-07:00

I'm debating my choice of settings regarding who can see this terribly exciting blog out there in the universe. I think perhaps my reasons for making a blog instead of just writing in a journal were that 1) I get to make a cute title picture for it, and 2) I can type, not write, and avoid getting pen all over my hand as I usually do. And I seem to be on the computer all the time anyway these days, so why not make it a cathartic experience?

My dad is humming along to some PBS special on reggae in the other room. If you knew him at all, you'd realize how funny that is.

So tomorrow I begin both a cleaning and rebuilding process of sorts. I need to start reorganize my tiny room here at my parent's house, and get back to the renovation process of the apartment I hope to live in - once there's a functioning bathroom and kitchen and all the walls are painted...among other projects.

On top of that, I need to find employment. I'd love to get a job somewhere in Higher Education, either in Boston or in Hartford (or eventually San Francisco).

And somewhere in there I'll lose 15 pounds. I'm pretty excited about it.

So here's to keeping me honest and keeping me moving - time to get things going.