YES!
Seriously!
We might not be able to get legally married in Illinois but BOY HOWDY when we do? Walgreens is ready with same-sex wedding cards! And for now, they'll do just fine as "commitment ceremony" cards.
THANK YOU WALGREENS! A big thumbs up to you.
FURTHERMORE this was a Walgreens in the suburbs! I know! Crazy, right? I mean, I might have expected it from a Walgreens in Boystown, but the burbs? Whoa, baby!
Granted, it was only 2 cards and the choices were a card for "two grooms" with a cartoon of two tuxedoed torsos holding hands OR a card with rainbow hearts all over it. I know, not the best options but at least they were there.
The "two grooms" card was really cute. The rainbow hearts? Not so much. Don't take away my gay card but I'm not a huge fan of rainbows. It will be a cold, cold day in hell before there are any rainbows within a 10 mile radius of my wedding. Unless it's a real rainbow in the sky. My wedding will NOT have rainbow flag centerpieces, or a rainbow flag cake and I will NOT be wearing a rainbow tie at my wedding. Nor, will any member of my wedding party carry the rainbow flag down the aisle to the tune of "I'm Coming Out". Basically, at no time should anyone at my wedding say, "Hey, you know what this wedding reminds me? Last year's pride parade."
...although I wouldn't mind a drag queen in my wedding party. Or a dyke on a bike. PFLAG should probably have a float too. And I guess if they really want to the HRC could pass out pamphlets as long as they were willing to pass out wedding programs too.
...And if Elton John is busy the Chicago Gay Man's Chorus could do the music.
But over my dead body is anyone wearing a rainbow. We have to keep it classy.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Summer Lessons
This summer has been crazy. Absolutely crazy. Personally. Professionally. Everythingally.
I feel like I've been an emotional pinball this summer. Hittin' good spots that light me up with excitment, hittin' spots that should probably be followed by the sound effect, "Wah wah waaaaaaaaaaah".
I've learned a lot about myself these past few months. I'm a pretty proud, stubborn person. And I sorta felt like I failed at everything this summer. It's so hard to not be "THERE" when you want so badly to be "THERE." And because I'm not "THERE", I feel like I'm failing. ("THERE" being a job that I like, that affords me the ability to have a life that allows me to move out and be completely independent and self-sufficient. "THERE" being the ability to make my own life and have some security. "THERE" being the ability to not have to run so hard all the time to make my life work the way I want it to.) When I've been frustrated this summer, or down on myself or my situations my go-to "wish" has been, "God Damn, I wish I could just fast forward a year."
But you can't just fast-forward a year, nor if I was really honest, would I want to.
So, I learned a lot.
But I've learned one thing that's been especially enlightening and important. It may be one of the most revelatory things about myself I've EVER learned, in fact. And that is...
I am a super shitty farmer.
I don't think that plant could be anymore dead. And...I....I don't even know how this happened, really. One day it was fine and the next I looked at it and was like, "Oh, crap."
Well, that's kind of a lie. I guess I sort of know what happened...
It may have something to do with the fact that for those few weeks when it was super hot in Chicago and did not rain for a long time I kept saying to myself as I passed by the hose, "Ehhh....I think it's supposed to rain tonight."
Oops.
As intentional as the murder of my tomato plant sounds, I assure you...it wasn't. I'll grant you that it was maybe "plantslaughter" but most definitely not intentional nor premeditated. It just sort of happened. I kept saying I'd water it "when I got home" or that I'd "go out after dinner" and then...then I forgot or got occupied by something else.
So guys, next year? When I insist on planting plants? Someone please remind me what a shitty farmer I am.
I feel like I've been an emotional pinball this summer. Hittin' good spots that light me up with excitment, hittin' spots that should probably be followed by the sound effect, "Wah wah waaaaaaaaaaah".
I've learned a lot about myself these past few months. I'm a pretty proud, stubborn person. And I sorta felt like I failed at everything this summer. It's so hard to not be "THERE" when you want so badly to be "THERE." And because I'm not "THERE", I feel like I'm failing. ("THERE" being a job that I like, that affords me the ability to have a life that allows me to move out and be completely independent and self-sufficient. "THERE" being the ability to make my own life and have some security. "THERE" being the ability to not have to run so hard all the time to make my life work the way I want it to.) When I've been frustrated this summer, or down on myself or my situations my go-to "wish" has been, "God Damn, I wish I could just fast forward a year."
But you can't just fast-forward a year, nor if I was really honest, would I want to.
So, I learned a lot.
But I've learned one thing that's been especially enlightening and important. It may be one of the most revelatory things about myself I've EVER learned, in fact. And that is...
I am a super shitty farmer.
I don't think that plant could be anymore dead. And...I....I don't even know how this happened, really. One day it was fine and the next I looked at it and was like, "Oh, crap."
Well, that's kind of a lie. I guess I sort of know what happened...
It may have something to do with the fact that for those few weeks when it was super hot in Chicago and did not rain for a long time I kept saying to myself as I passed by the hose, "Ehhh....I think it's supposed to rain tonight."
Oops.
As intentional as the murder of my tomato plant sounds, I assure you...it wasn't. I'll grant you that it was maybe "plantslaughter" but most definitely not intentional nor premeditated. It just sort of happened. I kept saying I'd water it "when I got home" or that I'd "go out after dinner" and then...then I forgot or got occupied by something else.
So guys, next year? When I insist on planting plants? Someone please remind me what a shitty farmer I am.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Love Rant: The Three-Day Walkers
So, this weekend, the Breast Cancer Three-Day once again came right by the doors of The Studio, where I work. The Studio (where I teach art classes and help the children of the world paint plaster unicorns) is next to a giant park that serves as a rally/pit stop point for the walkers each year. Over the years, though, The Studio has become a sort of unofficial pit stop, providing a break with air conditioning and toilets that flush (which, at this point in the walk, is a luxury to the walkers).
Two years ago we were unprepared and didn't know what was happening when streams of men and women in pink paraded by our doors. We had a couple people stop in as they went by asking to use our bathroom. They were thankful for toilets that flushed and air conditioning. That gave us the grand idea that we would totally deck the place out and decorate the following year and be open for the purpose of providing our bathrooms and air to weary walkers...
So...
Last year...Unbeknownst to me, Mrs. Yueill, Kassie, and Kristen spent long hours and great lengths decking out the Studio in honor of my mom. When I obliviously pulled up to work that morning and saw a HUGE sign that said "In Loving Memory of jan Cornelius", I couldn't help but get a little teary-eyed. It'll go down as one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. The walk that year was very special, in every way. The walkers really appreciated the use of our facilities. I talked to many great women and got bear-hugged by people I did not know. Walkers got to see my mom's picture and many told me they'd think of her as they crossed the finish and that they were walking for her.
This year, I got to help decorate!
It's always such a touching experience. I am not too involved in any breast cancer organizations and I've never walked myself. I don't really know why. Mostly, it's just 'cause that's not how I deal. To me, now, my life is all about moving forward and while I'd help the cause in any way I could, in a lot of ways I feel as though I've already earned the "Cancer Merit Badge" on my life sash. It's not that I don't feel like I need to fight or pursue a cure or walk 60 miles with tons of fantastic people. It's mostly that I feel like I spent 12 years fighting with my mom and well...it's a battle that's kinda done for me and a chapter that's closed. I kinda feel like I spent 12 years walking for Breast Cancer. And I guess, in a lot of ways, in my own way, I continue to walk for Breast Cancer everyday of my life. The way I do this is by carrying my mother in my heart everyday of my life and being the person she taught me to be. I think it'd be important to her that I carry on that legacy and so that's what I try and do.
I may feel very differently one day if I ever get cancer or if someone I know and love gets cancer (again). I wasn't really old enough to walk or process that I should walk or volunteer when my mom was fighting for her life. I think a lot of people struggle with what to "DO" when either they or someone they love gets cancer. Walking is a palpable way to DO something. It hurts, it takes effort, its a journey, and it's something. Something to be done and that they can say they've done that's measurable. For the walkers that walk WITH cancer (yes, it happens and yes I've seen it) (these people are in a league ALL their own), I think walking is a palpable way to really freakin' STICK IT to their disease. And I say, high-fives to that. Walking takes strength, endurance, and a good attitude-all of what it takes to fight cancer. I admire, love, and support those who walk with everything I've got. Same as I do anyone on this earth who fights cancer.
I know that people walk for many reasons.
I love them for the money they raise to learn more about the disease/find a cure.
I love them for walking to understand somehow what it is to fight.
I love them for doing something to fight the disease.
Mostly, I love the Walk, (from the walkers, to the volunteers, to the people who run it, to the simple act of standing on the side line cheering) because it feels like people taking care of and caring about each other.
Mostly, I love the walk because I feel like it's what the world should be about...People giving a damn. People giving a damn so much that they're gonna spend 3 days walking 60 miles. People giving a damn so much they'll set up along the route to cheer these people on. People giving a damn so much they'll spend their own money to buy water bottles and freeze pops to hand out to the walkers. People caring enough to stop and look at the pictures of my mom, to not know me or my mother, but to say, "This is for her. This is for you."
WHOA.
WHOA.
WHOA.
You would do that for her, Ms. Walker I never met before in my life? You would do that for ME?!
What?!?!
Yes. Absolutely. Just like I don't know any of you people but here I am clapping my hands numb to cheer you on.
Here WE are as The Studio, handing out every band-aid and cold pack we can from our first aid kits, offering our flushing toilets and air conditioning.
Here is the Studio Staff, caring enough to make a special dedication table for my mother. Recognizing what this means to me.
Here we all are, hugging people we don't know.
Here we all are, thanking the crap out of each other, "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME WASH MY HANDS WITH RUNNING WATER!!" "WELL THANK YOU FOR WALKING!"
Here we all are, dancing to "Single Ladies" outside the Studio door.
And Jesus...here I am putting up with all this damn PINK. I mean, my lord, that's the biggest miracle of all.
I guess the stupid, naive, idealist in me kinda wonders why the rest of life and the world can't be this way. I wonder why we have to fight each other so much. I wonder why we so often choose to NOT take care of each other or support each other, or why we pick and choose who we care for/support. I wonder why we can't be human begins walking for each other, instead of just ourselves.
Here are some pictures!!!!
Omg. So. Much. Pink. EVERYWHERE.
A sign we rolled outside. It took us FOR-EVER to come up with the "quote". Melissa Etheridge always comes though. Seriously, we were getting super slap-happy had run through things like, "Life is a work of art, Color yours with hope." all the way down to, "Give me Liberty or give me DEATH". The Melissa song just felt right. It's line from her song "Run for Life". She performed the song on the Grammys or some other award show, bald-headed from chemo. She's a bad-ass.
President Obama broke into the Studio over night and made his own special sign for the Three-Day Walkers. Thanks, Dude!
Special memory table for my Mama.
...and special tune-age to pump the Walkers.
Walkers walkin' by...GO WALKERS! GO!
Walk for answers. Walk for more.
President Obama's sign in the flowerbox.
Mrs. Yueill and me. I might have lost my mama, but I'm so glad she sent me this lady. I love her.
Mrs. Yueill, Kristen, and Me. This picture is titled, "This picture looks like it was taken at a bar or a party"
This picture is titled, "A PROPER picture of Mrs. Yueill, Kristen, and Me"
So The Studio is where we teach art classes. As such, things can get kinda messy so we always cover our tables with butcher paper. Without our knowledge, the Walkers started writing on one of the tables and filling it with messages. It was full by about mid-way through the walk and at the end of the day we had something that looked like this:
Kind of amazing, right?
I snapped a couple close-ups of my favorite messages....
No! I did not take a picture of this one because their team name was the "Tittie Kitties" and that it was probably the most-lesbian name for any Breast Cancer 3-Day team. I took it because they are from Colorado. But now you probably just think I took it for the other reason, anyway. Thanks, guys. Real mature.
Mindy from Kentucky!!
I think you should move here too!
Thank you for being one of the highlights of our summer.
This last one was my favorite. It's pretty much been my mantra all summer, so to see it left on a table by a random stranger from a 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk was, well, pretty damn cool...
Two years ago we were unprepared and didn't know what was happening when streams of men and women in pink paraded by our doors. We had a couple people stop in as they went by asking to use our bathroom. They were thankful for toilets that flushed and air conditioning. That gave us the grand idea that we would totally deck the place out and decorate the following year and be open for the purpose of providing our bathrooms and air to weary walkers...
So...
Last year...Unbeknownst to me, Mrs. Yueill, Kassie, and Kristen spent long hours and great lengths decking out the Studio in honor of my mom. When I obliviously pulled up to work that morning and saw a HUGE sign that said "In Loving Memory of jan Cornelius", I couldn't help but get a little teary-eyed. It'll go down as one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. The walk that year was very special, in every way. The walkers really appreciated the use of our facilities. I talked to many great women and got bear-hugged by people I did not know. Walkers got to see my mom's picture and many told me they'd think of her as they crossed the finish and that they were walking for her.
This year, I got to help decorate!
It's always such a touching experience. I am not too involved in any breast cancer organizations and I've never walked myself. I don't really know why. Mostly, it's just 'cause that's not how I deal. To me, now, my life is all about moving forward and while I'd help the cause in any way I could, in a lot of ways I feel as though I've already earned the "Cancer Merit Badge" on my life sash. It's not that I don't feel like I need to fight or pursue a cure or walk 60 miles with tons of fantastic people. It's mostly that I feel like I spent 12 years fighting with my mom and well...it's a battle that's kinda done for me and a chapter that's closed. I kinda feel like I spent 12 years walking for Breast Cancer. And I guess, in a lot of ways, in my own way, I continue to walk for Breast Cancer everyday of my life. The way I do this is by carrying my mother in my heart everyday of my life and being the person she taught me to be. I think it'd be important to her that I carry on that legacy and so that's what I try and do.
I may feel very differently one day if I ever get cancer or if someone I know and love gets cancer (again). I wasn't really old enough to walk or process that I should walk or volunteer when my mom was fighting for her life. I think a lot of people struggle with what to "DO" when either they or someone they love gets cancer. Walking is a palpable way to DO something. It hurts, it takes effort, its a journey, and it's something. Something to be done and that they can say they've done that's measurable. For the walkers that walk WITH cancer (yes, it happens and yes I've seen it) (these people are in a league ALL their own), I think walking is a palpable way to really freakin' STICK IT to their disease. And I say, high-fives to that. Walking takes strength, endurance, and a good attitude-all of what it takes to fight cancer. I admire, love, and support those who walk with everything I've got. Same as I do anyone on this earth who fights cancer.
I know that people walk for many reasons.
I love them for the money they raise to learn more about the disease/find a cure.
I love them for walking to understand somehow what it is to fight.
I love them for doing something to fight the disease.
Mostly, I love the Walk, (from the walkers, to the volunteers, to the people who run it, to the simple act of standing on the side line cheering) because it feels like people taking care of and caring about each other.
Mostly, I love the walk because I feel like it's what the world should be about...People giving a damn. People giving a damn so much that they're gonna spend 3 days walking 60 miles. People giving a damn so much they'll set up along the route to cheer these people on. People giving a damn so much they'll spend their own money to buy water bottles and freeze pops to hand out to the walkers. People caring enough to stop and look at the pictures of my mom, to not know me or my mother, but to say, "This is for her. This is for you."
WHOA.
WHOA.
WHOA.
You would do that for her, Ms. Walker I never met before in my life? You would do that for ME?!
What?!?!
Yes. Absolutely. Just like I don't know any of you people but here I am clapping my hands numb to cheer you on.
Here WE are as The Studio, handing out every band-aid and cold pack we can from our first aid kits, offering our flushing toilets and air conditioning.
Here is the Studio Staff, caring enough to make a special dedication table for my mother. Recognizing what this means to me.
Here we all are, hugging people we don't know.
Here we all are, thanking the crap out of each other, "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME WASH MY HANDS WITH RUNNING WATER!!" "WELL THANK YOU FOR WALKING!"
Here we all are, dancing to "Single Ladies" outside the Studio door.
And Jesus...here I am putting up with all this damn PINK. I mean, my lord, that's the biggest miracle of all.
I guess the stupid, naive, idealist in me kinda wonders why the rest of life and the world can't be this way. I wonder why we have to fight each other so much. I wonder why we so often choose to NOT take care of each other or support each other, or why we pick and choose who we care for/support. I wonder why we can't be human begins walking for each other, instead of just ourselves.
Here are some pictures!!!!
Omg. So. Much. Pink. EVERYWHERE.
A sign we rolled outside. It took us FOR-EVER to come up with the "quote". Melissa Etheridge always comes though. Seriously, we were getting super slap-happy had run through things like, "Life is a work of art, Color yours with hope." all the way down to, "Give me Liberty or give me DEATH". The Melissa song just felt right. It's line from her song "Run for Life". She performed the song on the Grammys or some other award show, bald-headed from chemo. She's a bad-ass.
President Obama broke into the Studio over night and made his own special sign for the Three-Day Walkers. Thanks, Dude!
Special memory table for my Mama.
...and special tune-age to pump the Walkers.
Walkers walkin' by...GO WALKERS! GO!
Walk for answers. Walk for more.
President Obama's sign in the flowerbox.
Mrs. Yueill and me. I might have lost my mama, but I'm so glad she sent me this lady. I love her.
Mrs. Yueill, Kristen, and Me. This picture is titled, "This picture looks like it was taken at a bar or a party"
This picture is titled, "A PROPER picture of Mrs. Yueill, Kristen, and Me"
So The Studio is where we teach art classes. As such, things can get kinda messy so we always cover our tables with butcher paper. Without our knowledge, the Walkers started writing on one of the tables and filling it with messages. It was full by about mid-way through the walk and at the end of the day we had something that looked like this:
Kind of amazing, right?
I snapped a couple close-ups of my favorite messages....
No! I did not take a picture of this one because their team name was the "Tittie Kitties" and that it was probably the most-lesbian name for any Breast Cancer 3-Day team. I took it because they are from Colorado. But now you probably just think I took it for the other reason, anyway. Thanks, guys. Real mature.
Mindy from Kentucky!!
I think you should move here too!
Thank you for being one of the highlights of our summer.
This last one was my favorite. It's pretty much been my mantra all summer, so to see it left on a table by a random stranger from a 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk was, well, pretty damn cool...
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Love Rant: Steps In The Right Direction
Prop 8 got kicked in the nuts today in California.
There's a long fight to come, but a kick in the nuts is a kick in the nuts and it sure as heck hurts.
Thanks for kickin' prop 8 in the nuts Judge Walker!
There's a long fight to come, but a kick in the nuts is a kick in the nuts and it sure as heck hurts.
Thanks for kickin' prop 8 in the nuts Judge Walker!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Love Rant: Inheritances
So, if you know me enough to speak to me regularly, you probably know I say "what?" "huh?" "pardon?" and "one more time?" a lot and generally accompany it with a point to my ear.
It's not because I don't listen.
It's because I don't hear well.
My family has been ALL over me to go get my hearing checked. I don't think it's that bad; they do. Problem is even when I had health insurance-audiologists and hearing aides aren't covered. And hearing aides? Super expensive. $3000 dollars per ear, easy. Plus, I'm 24 damn years old. Call me stubborn and unreasonable but I don't want to wear freakin' hearing aides. So, to recap, my super valid reasons for not getting my hearing checked are: a) Expensive. That spare change in my change bucket is for a new mac, not for hearing aides. b) I don't want to wear hearing aides. So I don't really care if I need them or not anyway.
Anyway. Someone let my the fact that I have a little hearing problem slip to my grandfather. He has had hearing aides ever since I can remember. But, he's an old man. It's necessary and plus, he can do fun, endearing, old man things with his hearing aides For example, when we were little he used to make them ring whenever we would hug him. Then he would say something adorable like, "Oh that was such a nice hug you're making me ring!"
Um. If I were to do that as a 24 year old lesbian....to anybody? It would be weird and slightly creepy.
So why get them if I can't even have fun with them?
Anyway, point is...my grandpa found out about my hearing problem. And my grandpa, as many grandpas do, likes to stew and worry about things. So, my phone rings today and I had the following conversation...
What I love about my grandpa offering me his old hearing aides:
1. That I probably got my crappy hearing from him.
2. That he is sweet enough to do so. I love that the solution to my hearing problem is so simple to him. "Well here, just use my old ones! What's that? You say you can't see well either? Well shoot, use my specs! I'm due for an upgrade anyway!"
3. Let's set aside the fact that using his old hearing aides grosses me out a little bit...how about that his hearing aides are dinosaurs and probably weigh as much as I do and would not even fit on my ear? His hearing aides on my ears would be like putting a giant expedition frame-pack backpack on a kindergartener.
4. That throughout the entire conversation, the hearing aides that he wants to give me were not working.
Awesome.
It's not because I don't listen.
It's because I don't hear well.
My family has been ALL over me to go get my hearing checked. I don't think it's that bad; they do. Problem is even when I had health insurance-audiologists and hearing aides aren't covered. And hearing aides? Super expensive. $3000 dollars per ear, easy. Plus, I'm 24 damn years old. Call me stubborn and unreasonable but I don't want to wear freakin' hearing aides. So, to recap, my super valid reasons for not getting my hearing checked are: a) Expensive. That spare change in my change bucket is for a new mac, not for hearing aides. b) I don't want to wear hearing aides. So I don't really care if I need them or not anyway.
Anyway. Someone let my the fact that I have a little hearing problem slip to my grandfather. He has had hearing aides ever since I can remember. But, he's an old man. It's necessary and plus, he can do fun, endearing, old man things with his hearing aides For example, when we were little he used to make them ring whenever we would hug him. Then he would say something adorable like, "Oh that was such a nice hug you're making me ring!"
Um. If I were to do that as a 24 year old lesbian....to anybody? It would be weird and slightly creepy.
So why get them if I can't even have fun with them?
Anyway, point is...my grandpa found out about my hearing problem. And my grandpa, as many grandpas do, likes to stew and worry about things. So, my phone rings today and I had the following conversation...
What I love about my grandpa offering me his old hearing aides:
1. That I probably got my crappy hearing from him.
2. That he is sweet enough to do so. I love that the solution to my hearing problem is so simple to him. "Well here, just use my old ones! What's that? You say you can't see well either? Well shoot, use my specs! I'm due for an upgrade anyway!"
3. Let's set aside the fact that using his old hearing aides grosses me out a little bit...how about that his hearing aides are dinosaurs and probably weigh as much as I do and would not even fit on my ear? His hearing aides on my ears would be like putting a giant expedition frame-pack backpack on a kindergartener.
4. That throughout the entire conversation, the hearing aides that he wants to give me were not working.
Awesome.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The Buzz Was Gone!
OK! FIRST OF ALL...
For those of you who've been commenting: I AM SO SORRY. I just NOW realized that I had comments on my blog. I usually get emails that tell me so, but for whatever reason have not gotten ANY emails saying that I have blog comments. This will be remedied. Thank you to those of you who've commented. I'm so sorry for not responding there. I feel like an asshole.
So you may have noticed that there hasn't been too much blog-age. I know. Horrible. It's all going to change, promise. There WILL be a love rant in the near future about how much I love Cheddar-Jack Cheezits. There WILL be so many love rants in the future about so many different, ridiculous things.
The summer has been a little nuts.
You remember that job I started a couple months ago?
The one I couldn't wear sneakers to?
...I quit.
I've never quit anything in my life, really. Well, unless you count basketball in 7th grade but that wasn't so much quitting as saying "Hey guys, instead of sitting on the bench here...I'm just gonna do it at home and watch Clarissa Explains it All. Cool?" And anyway, I ended up only bein' a quitter for like three days because then all the girls begged me to come back to the team and well, we all know I'm a sucker for girls. See? I joined back for all the right reasons: to impress girls. And man, let me tell you my track record with women started early, because I impressed them by doing things like shooting at the wrong hoop and missing simple lay-ups again and again and again and again and generally making a mess out of my two minutes of playing time.
But the point is: yup. I've never quit anything in my life. I'm not a quitter. I'm a doer. I'm stubborn, I like to prove I can do/accomplish/complete things. I hate having to call "uncle." But I did on Friday. Taken at face value (walking away from a steady, decent, paycheck complete with heath benefits and a discount at Barnes and Noble) it might qualify as the craziest thing I've ever done in my life. To other people, I might seem totally ludicrous and off my rocker. To me, it was one of the best moves I ever made in my life.
I can't speak ill of the company or of the people who work there-they're all great. But...it just wasn't for me. I was a round peg tryin' to shove myself in the square hole of my cubicle every morning and it wasn't worth it to me. And since I'm young, and don't have a mortgage or a family to support....I cut my losses and walked away. I'm back to scraping by on part time work and do you know what?
I couldn't be more happy about it.
I taught art classes Saturday and had a conversation with a five-year-old about whether or not she believed dinosaurs could sing (she said "no" I said "yes" (duh) she finally acquiesced that if they did sing they probably did so in a dinosaur voice, I totally agreed saying that if a dino were to sing I wouldn't expect him to sound like Pavarotti). She also told me that she was named Amelia, after Amelia Earhart the famous, "airplane driver". She told me that nobody knew where Amelia was and that she believes she crash landed in a lake and died. I said I thought she was on the moon. Later, when we were talking about dinosaurs, five-year-old Amelia told me nobody knew what happened to the dinosaurs either. Five-year-old Amelia believed that the all wrestled each other too much and that's why they're not around anymore. But she is also open to other possibilities, as there would probably at least be two or three dinosaurs still around that didn't wrestle too much. I said I thought maybe the dinosaurs were with Amelia the famous airplane driver and five-year-old Amelia agreed. Then five-year-old Amelia told me that the place she wanted to go more than anywhere in the world was ancient China because that's where the first kite was invented. Awesome.
After work on Saturday I got to work at theatre and help the boys there move a giant set around and got to use a power drill and crow-bar. I got to put my flashlight and multi-tool on my belt and I got to joke with dudes who always crack me up. Disconnecting the vampire sockets on the lights led to jokes about vampires, which led to impressions of Bill Compton from True Blood. Again. Awesome.
So am I going to be able to pay off the those college loans anytime soon?
No.
Until I find another full time job that's a better fit will I be able to move out anytime in the foreseeable future?
Nope.
Will I be able to buy that new mac desktop I've had my eye on for the past year?
Eh, it'll be a while till the spare change in my change bucket equals a thousand dollars. Especially when I constantly pick out quarters to use in vending machines. Until then it's me and my four-year-old Miss. Watermelon kickin' ibook-pre-webcam style.
Despite all that I am a heck of a lot happier now than I've been for the past two months. If I've learned anything so far in life it's that I can't compromise myself or who I am. My greatest successes in life have come from being 100% true to who I am. And when I'm not in a place to be who I am, I can't be happy and I can't expect happy things to happen to me.
The best way I know how to explain why I quit is this. And this also might be the part that has me officially labeled as "crazy"...
As hard as it was to balance two part time jobs and go to school full time...
As hard as it was to then balance THREE part time jobs...
As hard as it was to work for low pay and constantly try and make things "work"...
And even though I had some really tough days, some really sad days, and some really bad days...
I always felt a little "buzz" inside me. Maybe it was all the coffee, but I think it was little hum of excitement that told me that not only would everything be ok, not only would I be ok...but that life I was working so hard for was on it's way. That I was doing things right and that eventually, I'd get to where I needed to be. And not only that, but in getting to where I needed to be, I was doing things that kept me and my brain happy in the meanwhile: teaching kids, doing backstage technical work, seeing shows, BLOGGING...
When I started working for the company a few months ago that buzz died. It just died. And I don't mean to sound so dramatic, but it did. And suddenly I wasn't me anymore. And that scared the life outta me. Because I'd always believed that with everything I can get, give, and have taken from me in this world, the one thing I could always hang on to and that would always see me through was my sense of self. And it was so scary to see that die.
And while I'm not proud of quitting because that is so not my style or how I operate, I am proud that I did what I needed to do.
Leap and the net will appear right?
Right?
Right.
For those of you who've been commenting: I AM SO SORRY. I just NOW realized that I had comments on my blog. I usually get emails that tell me so, but for whatever reason have not gotten ANY emails saying that I have blog comments. This will be remedied. Thank you to those of you who've commented. I'm so sorry for not responding there. I feel like an asshole.
So you may have noticed that there hasn't been too much blog-age. I know. Horrible. It's all going to change, promise. There WILL be a love rant in the near future about how much I love Cheddar-Jack Cheezits. There WILL be so many love rants in the future about so many different, ridiculous things.
The summer has been a little nuts.
You remember that job I started a couple months ago?
The one I couldn't wear sneakers to?
...I quit.
I've never quit anything in my life, really. Well, unless you count basketball in 7th grade but that wasn't so much quitting as saying "Hey guys, instead of sitting on the bench here...I'm just gonna do it at home and watch Clarissa Explains it All. Cool?" And anyway, I ended up only bein' a quitter for like three days because then all the girls begged me to come back to the team and well, we all know I'm a sucker for girls. See? I joined back for all the right reasons: to impress girls. And man, let me tell you my track record with women started early, because I impressed them by doing things like shooting at the wrong hoop and missing simple lay-ups again and again and again and again and generally making a mess out of my two minutes of playing time.
But the point is: yup. I've never quit anything in my life. I'm not a quitter. I'm a doer. I'm stubborn, I like to prove I can do/accomplish/complete things. I hate having to call "uncle." But I did on Friday. Taken at face value (walking away from a steady, decent, paycheck complete with heath benefits and a discount at Barnes and Noble) it might qualify as the craziest thing I've ever done in my life. To other people, I might seem totally ludicrous and off my rocker. To me, it was one of the best moves I ever made in my life.
I can't speak ill of the company or of the people who work there-they're all great. But...it just wasn't for me. I was a round peg tryin' to shove myself in the square hole of my cubicle every morning and it wasn't worth it to me. And since I'm young, and don't have a mortgage or a family to support....I cut my losses and walked away. I'm back to scraping by on part time work and do you know what?
I couldn't be more happy about it.
I taught art classes Saturday and had a conversation with a five-year-old about whether or not she believed dinosaurs could sing (she said "no" I said "yes" (duh) she finally acquiesced that if they did sing they probably did so in a dinosaur voice, I totally agreed saying that if a dino were to sing I wouldn't expect him to sound like Pavarotti). She also told me that she was named Amelia, after Amelia Earhart the famous, "airplane driver". She told me that nobody knew where Amelia was and that she believes she crash landed in a lake and died. I said I thought she was on the moon. Later, when we were talking about dinosaurs, five-year-old Amelia told me nobody knew what happened to the dinosaurs either. Five-year-old Amelia believed that the all wrestled each other too much and that's why they're not around anymore. But she is also open to other possibilities, as there would probably at least be two or three dinosaurs still around that didn't wrestle too much. I said I thought maybe the dinosaurs were with Amelia the famous airplane driver and five-year-old Amelia agreed. Then five-year-old Amelia told me that the place she wanted to go more than anywhere in the world was ancient China because that's where the first kite was invented. Awesome.
After work on Saturday I got to work at theatre and help the boys there move a giant set around and got to use a power drill and crow-bar. I got to put my flashlight and multi-tool on my belt and I got to joke with dudes who always crack me up. Disconnecting the vampire sockets on the lights led to jokes about vampires, which led to impressions of Bill Compton from True Blood. Again. Awesome.
So am I going to be able to pay off the those college loans anytime soon?
No.
Until I find another full time job that's a better fit will I be able to move out anytime in the foreseeable future?
Nope.
Will I be able to buy that new mac desktop I've had my eye on for the past year?
Eh, it'll be a while till the spare change in my change bucket equals a thousand dollars. Especially when I constantly pick out quarters to use in vending machines. Until then it's me and my four-year-old Miss. Watermelon kickin' ibook-pre-webcam style.
Despite all that I am a heck of a lot happier now than I've been for the past two months. If I've learned anything so far in life it's that I can't compromise myself or who I am. My greatest successes in life have come from being 100% true to who I am. And when I'm not in a place to be who I am, I can't be happy and I can't expect happy things to happen to me.
The best way I know how to explain why I quit is this. And this also might be the part that has me officially labeled as "crazy"...
As hard as it was to balance two part time jobs and go to school full time...
As hard as it was to then balance THREE part time jobs...
As hard as it was to work for low pay and constantly try and make things "work"...
And even though I had some really tough days, some really sad days, and some really bad days...
I always felt a little "buzz" inside me. Maybe it was all the coffee, but I think it was little hum of excitement that told me that not only would everything be ok, not only would I be ok...but that life I was working so hard for was on it's way. That I was doing things right and that eventually, I'd get to where I needed to be. And not only that, but in getting to where I needed to be, I was doing things that kept me and my brain happy in the meanwhile: teaching kids, doing backstage technical work, seeing shows, BLOGGING...
When I started working for the company a few months ago that buzz died. It just died. And I don't mean to sound so dramatic, but it did. And suddenly I wasn't me anymore. And that scared the life outta me. Because I'd always believed that with everything I can get, give, and have taken from me in this world, the one thing I could always hang on to and that would always see me through was my sense of self. And it was so scary to see that die.
And while I'm not proud of quitting because that is so not my style or how I operate, I am proud that I did what I needed to do.
Leap and the net will appear right?
Right?
Right.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Love Rant: My Veggie "Garden"
I love my veggie garden. I love my veggie garden so much. Even though my veggie "garden" is really just three plants, one in a pot, one in a hanging planter, and one...welll...one in a bucket. I love them. Want to know why I love my poor excuse for a veggie garden so much??
Because I actually think I might get veggies this year!!!! HOORAY!!
Now, if any of you followed my blog last year you may recall the vegetable garden I tried to grow and its miserable failure. "Miserable failure" doesn't even cut it really. It was more like an epic miserable failure.
Last year, I only ended up with a little bit of cilantro and a couple jalapenos out of the six different types of veggies I planted. Yeah. Pretty epically miserable.
I was ashamed.
I was disheartened.
I cursed my garden.
And for a brief moment I thought I'd never make it as an eco-conscious, forward-thinking, grow-you-own-grub type of 21st century human being taking steps to be more responsible about food intake. I'll be honest, before I planted my plants last summer? I had visions of a full out, rowed garden in my backyard. I had visions planting plants in "found" materials like old tires and clementine boxes and milk crates. I had visions of making delicious dinners solely out of what I could pull from the ground in my back yard...
BUT seeing as how I a) live with my dad and he probably wouldn't appreciate me digging up a good portion of his yard and dragging those "found" (read: trash) planters like tires and boxes INTO the yard and b) Every book I read about gardening told me to start small, I decided to start small last year.
...or so I thought.
Turns out, planting six different types of plants in containers along the wall of your garage when you're a busy girl running between three jobs doesn't qualify as "starting small". Two tomato plants. A cuke plant. A jalapeno plant. A pepper plant. And a pot of herbs. 8 weeks into the summer last year it became painfully clear that my initial foray into home-grown sustenance was going nowhere fast.
And in planting those plants in planters along the wall of my garage I realized I had made another critical error...
I planted the plants out of reach of the hose.
Yup.
Super dumb.
Basically, this meant I had the schlep a watering can back and forth from the hose to the garage 6 different times every time I watered.
Basically, this meant that my plants were probably WAY under-watered.
Lessons learned.
Like I said, I was ashamed and disheartened that my first garden was a wreck.
BUT I am also incredibly stubborn. I mean...incredibly perseverant.
But being stubborn doesn't make me a total twit, so THIS year I cut my plant-age in HALF. Three plants to deal with is a whole lot easier than six. You can pay attention to each one, encourage it to grow, and go over to it each day and whisper things like, "I can't wait to eat your ovaries." (No, I don't actually do that because it would be super creepy).
I planted three veggie/fruit plants this year: a tomato plant, a strawberry plant, and a jalapeno plant. I planted them in pots and NEAR the hose. And they're doing pretty well! Nothing has gotten big or developed enough to actually eat yet, but...it's getting there! (I think)
I also made sure not to make the mistake this year of naming my plants. I named my plants last year and that made their failure all the more depressing. Now, my plants are simply known as what they are: Upside-down-tomato-dude, Strawberry-dude, and Jalapenos-in-a-bucket-dude. You might think it cold-hearted, but this way if they fail I won't be depressed.
Check them out....
Strawberry-dude. Oh man. So excited for this dude to start producin' ripe stuff:
I think this little guy will be the first one I can eat. I say this only because, so far, he is the biggest. I am tracking his delicious process daily:
One day, when I'm all grown up and have a home, I picture myself in a cute little cottage-y type place with tons of overgrown berry bushes in the backyard. And all I'll have to do to get breakfast in the morning is walk in the backyard and fill up a dish with good stuff, grab a cup of joe and be made in the shade.
Upside-down-Tomato-dude:
(I didn't want to actually spend money on a planter made for planting tomatoes upside down, so I just bought a regular planter with a coir lining and cut a hole in the bottom. Plus, I'm pretty sure my Dad would have evicted me if I tried to hang up the Topsey-Turvey in his yard.)
Grow little tomatoes GROW! I want to eat you on some bread with some goat cheese.
Jalapenos-in-a-bucket-dude:
This is the one I didn't expect to do all that well because a) I planted him in a bucket and b) I ran out of soil by the time I got to him so he only got like 1/4 of a bucket of soil (I know I KNOW I'm like the worst gardener EVER) but look at those little dudes go! Pretty soon I'm going to have more jalapenos than I can handle.
Because I actually think I might get veggies this year!!!! HOORAY!!
Now, if any of you followed my blog last year you may recall the vegetable garden I tried to grow and its miserable failure. "Miserable failure" doesn't even cut it really. It was more like an epic miserable failure.
Last year, I only ended up with a little bit of cilantro and a couple jalapenos out of the six different types of veggies I planted. Yeah. Pretty epically miserable.
I was ashamed.
I was disheartened.
I cursed my garden.
And for a brief moment I thought I'd never make it as an eco-conscious, forward-thinking, grow-you-own-grub type of 21st century human being taking steps to be more responsible about food intake. I'll be honest, before I planted my plants last summer? I had visions of a full out, rowed garden in my backyard. I had visions planting plants in "found" materials like old tires and clementine boxes and milk crates. I had visions of making delicious dinners solely out of what I could pull from the ground in my back yard...
BUT seeing as how I a) live with my dad and he probably wouldn't appreciate me digging up a good portion of his yard and dragging those "found" (read: trash) planters like tires and boxes INTO the yard and b) Every book I read about gardening told me to start small, I decided to start small last year.
...or so I thought.
Turns out, planting six different types of plants in containers along the wall of your garage when you're a busy girl running between three jobs doesn't qualify as "starting small". Two tomato plants. A cuke plant. A jalapeno plant. A pepper plant. And a pot of herbs. 8 weeks into the summer last year it became painfully clear that my initial foray into home-grown sustenance was going nowhere fast.
And in planting those plants in planters along the wall of my garage I realized I had made another critical error...
I planted the plants out of reach of the hose.
Yup.
Super dumb.
Basically, this meant I had the schlep a watering can back and forth from the hose to the garage 6 different times every time I watered.
Basically, this meant that my plants were probably WAY under-watered.
Lessons learned.
Like I said, I was ashamed and disheartened that my first garden was a wreck.
BUT I am also incredibly stubborn. I mean...incredibly perseverant.
But being stubborn doesn't make me a total twit, so THIS year I cut my plant-age in HALF. Three plants to deal with is a whole lot easier than six. You can pay attention to each one, encourage it to grow, and go over to it each day and whisper things like, "I can't wait to eat your ovaries." (No, I don't actually do that because it would be super creepy).
I planted three veggie/fruit plants this year: a tomato plant, a strawberry plant, and a jalapeno plant. I planted them in pots and NEAR the hose. And they're doing pretty well! Nothing has gotten big or developed enough to actually eat yet, but...it's getting there! (I think)
I also made sure not to make the mistake this year of naming my plants. I named my plants last year and that made their failure all the more depressing. Now, my plants are simply known as what they are: Upside-down-tomato-dude, Strawberry-dude, and Jalapenos-in-a-bucket-dude. You might think it cold-hearted, but this way if they fail I won't be depressed.
Check them out....
Strawberry-dude. Oh man. So excited for this dude to start producin' ripe stuff:
I think this little guy will be the first one I can eat. I say this only because, so far, he is the biggest. I am tracking his delicious process daily:
One day, when I'm all grown up and have a home, I picture myself in a cute little cottage-y type place with tons of overgrown berry bushes in the backyard. And all I'll have to do to get breakfast in the morning is walk in the backyard and fill up a dish with good stuff, grab a cup of joe and be made in the shade.
Upside-down-Tomato-dude:
(I didn't want to actually spend money on a planter made for planting tomatoes upside down, so I just bought a regular planter with a coir lining and cut a hole in the bottom. Plus, I'm pretty sure my Dad would have evicted me if I tried to hang up the Topsey-Turvey in his yard.)
Grow little tomatoes GROW! I want to eat you on some bread with some goat cheese.
Jalapenos-in-a-bucket-dude:
This is the one I didn't expect to do all that well because a) I planted him in a bucket and b) I ran out of soil by the time I got to him so he only got like 1/4 of a bucket of soil (I know I KNOW I'm like the worst gardener EVER) but look at those little dudes go! Pretty soon I'm going to have more jalapenos than I can handle.
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