*Note: The following looks long, but I really just used a lot of line breaks for the sake of story-telling purposes. I promise it's not comparable to a homework reading assignment.
Although I've officially been a new resident of Charleston, SC, for one entire week, the whole "VISTA" process has been a loop-dee-loop since the beginning of August. I don't quite have as many interesting tales as I did on my arrival to Jacksonville a year ago (the whole reason this blog was started in the first place), but I can easily say it's been a "memorable" experience (I've come to find that "memorable" is a great, all encompassing word for many life situations). However, I can't easily say I'm having the time of my life yet; but I am most certainly in a better place and feel lucky to be here.
Now, I have managed to place some interesting memories in my pocket from the past couple of weeks. In an effort to revamp this blog and catalog such events for personal sake, I'm going to recount a new story as often as I can and hopefully have a new one at least once a week - though I have a feeling there will be more.
Let's get on with it.
As you may have noticed the title (did you?), I decided to introduce you first to my crazy neighbor lady, Marilyn. Oh, and her spaz Westie dog, Buttons. I have a funny feeling M&B are going to show up regularly in conversation as I've already had multiple encounters, hence opening my mini-series with them:
I first met this strange duo a couple of weeks ago, at 7AM the morning I left for VISTA training in Atlanta. I was standing in the driveway waiting for my friend, Anne, to pick me up for the airport. Marilyn, a solid woman in her 60s with foofy white hair and big square, gold-studded sunglasses (the kind sorority girls would kill for) ambles - quite intensely, I might add - towards me. Being the well-intentioned new neighbor I am, I give a friendly wave and a smiley "Good morning" to her. She stops at the foot of the driveway. She stops and she stares. Approximately 5 awkward seconds pass...
"You the new tenant?" She finally blurts in a sharp, gravely voice.
"Yes, ma'am. I just moved in a couple of days ago, but I'll be gone for the next few days in Atlanta."
"UH-huh."
More silence.
More staring.
At this point, her goofy puffball of a dog gets bored and comes sputtering towards me, eyes huge and a smile from ear to ear. His panting is quick and erratic, much like the rest of his movements. Marilyn starts to say something, and who knows if she's trying to talk to me or him. All I can do in my still sleepy stupor is stare at the dog, who starts rolling on his back and somehow never blinks. She begins to pull his leash, to which he starts doing circus-style rolls back down the hill. "Oh," and she says, "This is Buttons." I bid her and Buttons a good day, and she starts talking to herself as she walks away - and in her conversation, she never bothers to close her side of things to me. Thank God Anne drove up in the nick of time.
Fast forward to a couple of days ago.
After coming home from a long, frustrating day at my new site, I throw on some grungy clothes and go for a run around the neighborhood. Assuming I'm only going to be gone 30-45min, I don't bother locking the door; it's a safe neighborhood, I think, and there's really nothing worth stealing anyways. I come back to find nothing out of place and jump in the shower (this time locking the door). As I turn the water off and reach for my towel, I hear a blood-curdling, "Hellooo?!? Hell-OOOO?!?!" Then footsteps heavy on the stairwell leading up, followed by a pound-pound-pound on the door. Again, "HelloOoOoOo?!?!" I rush to the door, hair wet and in nothing but a towel, as my heart is beating out of my chest. I swing the door open. And there's Marilyn.
"Good, you're here. Just making sure you remembered it's trash day tomorrow and to roll out the garbage bins. I came by earlier and they weren't out, but I just came back and looks like you already took care of it."
This time I stood silent and stared. Half-naked.
"By the way, when I came earlier I wanted to see if you were here - so I opened the door and you weren't. Honey, you really need to lock your doors."
I tried to formulate a response, but I think some odd noise came out instead.
"Okay, bye. And lock your doors!"
And by God, I've done just that.
Next step, learn to communicate with Marilyn. Perhaps by way of Buttons.
BREAKFAST AT TARGET By Celia "Golightly"
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
If Love Is a Labor, I'll Slave Till the End.
H'oh boy. It's so weird to be in such a strange, yet so familiar place again. I seem to live my bizarre excuse of a life according to these reoccurring themes, and frankly I think it's getting a little obnoxious. How many times do I honestly need to go through the same falderal and fiddly-dee?! This can't seriously be a fact of life... can it? Because, if so, I need to stock up on the Cabernet.
My first couple of days as a bonafide VISTA member have been odd; I completed my Pre-Service Orientation last week in Atlanta, and overall I enjoyed myself immensely. I met some hilarious and brilliant people, learned some new information, and absorbed the experience. However, I began my official term on Monday in North Charleston - and it leaves much to be desired. The Mayor's Office (where I'll be serving) is literally in shambles, as they're moving to a brand-spankin' new building. I can't really start training because of it, and the other VISTA member won't join me in the office (considering we have an office) until next Monday. On top of that, I tend to be a very anxious person, and it takes me a solid couple of weeks to adjust... Getting a good night's rest has been futile, due mostly to being terrified about over-sleeping, and resulting in lots of "wake-ups" throughout the night. Good lord.
When I have more to discuss, I'll be sure to give you all an adequate synopsis of my new role in national service - and hopefully, it'll make sense (because it sure doesn't right now!).
On to a topic I know plenty about: Love. Really, I'm more expertised in the love of food, trashy reality shows, and stupid jokes; but I have been blessed with finding a person who knows my weaknesses, accepts that I have flaws, and still finds me utterly irresistible. John Carroll and I celebrated 7 Years of changing, growing, and laughing together this past weekend - and we proved, yet again, each year brings a new set of challenges, adventures, and new stories to add to our journey. I guess that's ultimately what I've learned over the last 2,555+ days as an attached soul: You both lead, guide, and support each other in how you want to get to the next step, not necessarily focusing on where it leads you. After having John always close by and seeing him practically every day for 5 years, we went off to new places -- somewhat by choice, but mostly because we knew what we had to do. I feel lucky we remained (mostly) on the same page, being ever careful to talk it out the second we steered away from it. It's been hard not having him close over the last year, but it's given us a solid opportunity to connect in other ways and value the time we do get together. Now he's only 2 hours away, and I love being able to put him in my schedule a lot more. :)
Now, one thing I must mention is that it wasn't always easy. We fought. We disagreed. We said things we didn't mean. I threw things. He didn't listen. Now that's a fact of life I'm coming to terms with, and that in and of itself is difficult. I think I've learned the most about growing up through and with John; he saved me from a life of obsessing over the small and the negative. He showed me patience, he provided me with hope, and he became the one constant in my life I so desperately needed then and still do now. He's not without his flaws and nuances, either, but he never gives up trying to be better - and that made it easy for me to try, too. It bothers me how so many people get caught up in romantic notions and drop it like it's hot once the going gets tough. If you ask me, I'd rather have a history with someone that's well-worn, deeply rooted, threaded thickly, and inspires intrigue... I'd rather have a heart that glows with a degree of happy assurance than a misplaced flash in the pan that fades as quickly as it started.
Normally this is where I make some self-deprecating comment and realize everything I wrote has little to do with real life. But, for once, I'm happy to say I feel confident in my ideas of the nature of love. Just call me the 1st Mate of the "Relation-Ship!"
I hope everyone's new transitions are equally as confusing, frustrating, exciting, and interesting as mine... I'd like to think the human experience is alive and well. :)
My first couple of days as a bonafide VISTA member have been odd; I completed my Pre-Service Orientation last week in Atlanta, and overall I enjoyed myself immensely. I met some hilarious and brilliant people, learned some new information, and absorbed the experience. However, I began my official term on Monday in North Charleston - and it leaves much to be desired. The Mayor's Office (where I'll be serving) is literally in shambles, as they're moving to a brand-spankin' new building. I can't really start training because of it, and the other VISTA member won't join me in the office (considering we have an office) until next Monday. On top of that, I tend to be a very anxious person, and it takes me a solid couple of weeks to adjust... Getting a good night's rest has been futile, due mostly to being terrified about over-sleeping, and resulting in lots of "wake-ups" throughout the night. Good lord.
When I have more to discuss, I'll be sure to give you all an adequate synopsis of my new role in national service - and hopefully, it'll make sense (because it sure doesn't right now!).
On to a topic I know plenty about: Love. Really, I'm more expertised in the love of food, trashy reality shows, and stupid jokes; but I have been blessed with finding a person who knows my weaknesses, accepts that I have flaws, and still finds me utterly irresistible. John Carroll and I celebrated 7 Years of changing, growing, and laughing together this past weekend - and we proved, yet again, each year brings a new set of challenges, adventures, and new stories to add to our journey. I guess that's ultimately what I've learned over the last 2,555+ days as an attached soul: You both lead, guide, and support each other in how you want to get to the next step, not necessarily focusing on where it leads you. After having John always close by and seeing him practically every day for 5 years, we went off to new places -- somewhat by choice, but mostly because we knew what we had to do. I feel lucky we remained (mostly) on the same page, being ever careful to talk it out the second we steered away from it. It's been hard not having him close over the last year, but it's given us a solid opportunity to connect in other ways and value the time we do get together. Now he's only 2 hours away, and I love being able to put him in my schedule a lot more. :)
Now, one thing I must mention is that it wasn't always easy. We fought. We disagreed. We said things we didn't mean. I threw things. He didn't listen. Now that's a fact of life I'm coming to terms with, and that in and of itself is difficult. I think I've learned the most about growing up through and with John; he saved me from a life of obsessing over the small and the negative. He showed me patience, he provided me with hope, and he became the one constant in my life I so desperately needed then and still do now. He's not without his flaws and nuances, either, but he never gives up trying to be better - and that made it easy for me to try, too. It bothers me how so many people get caught up in romantic notions and drop it like it's hot once the going gets tough. If you ask me, I'd rather have a history with someone that's well-worn, deeply rooted, threaded thickly, and inspires intrigue... I'd rather have a heart that glows with a degree of happy assurance than a misplaced flash in the pan that fades as quickly as it started.
Normally this is where I make some self-deprecating comment and realize everything I wrote has little to do with real life. But, for once, I'm happy to say I feel confident in my ideas of the nature of love. Just call me the 1st Mate of the "Relation-Ship!"
I hope everyone's new transitions are equally as confusing, frustrating, exciting, and interesting as mine... I'd like to think the human experience is alive and well. :)
Labels:
AmeriCorps,
first day on the job,
frustrations,
Love,
Relationships,
transitions,
VISTA
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
The Start of a New Commitment! (but still broke)
I love airports, everything from the cranky airport attendants to the over-priced bottles of water (2 for $3.55? what a steal!). I genuinely mean that. It's the best place to people watch, and no one seems to care that I stare at them as they whirl past. I promise it's with the best intentions: I make up stories for the really hustly-bustly individuals. The business man with his cell phone glued to his ear, hopefully about to score a ginormous deal. The teetering old ladies (who I LOVE because they still dress up to fly, an art I'm sad to see dying) who are off to visit their newborn grandchild for the first time. The young, giggly kids with their brightly colored and crinkled duffel bags off on a mission trip to somewhere in South America. The creepy guy in the corner, nervously clutching his Mountain Dew... either he's on the run, or just can't handle his caffeine.
As for me, I'm finally able to take a breath, sip some delicious Dunkin' Donuts coffee (surprisingly not over-priced), and anticipate the week ahead. This is probably why I love the airport the most: I have a ritual that involves buying a trashy magazine (Glamour is my favorite), finding a comfy spot by the gate, and absorbing the silent mania of the travel experience. Just knowing I'll be in a completely new destination within the next couple of hours is enough to get me through the embarrassing security check.
My destination, you ask? I've been granted an amazing opportunity (okay, well, it's mandatory) to attend AmeriCorps VISTA training in Atlanta for the next four days. Not only will I get to know the in's, the out's, and the all-about's of my commitment to being young and impoverished for the next year, but I'll also be surrounded by fellow members from the Southeast who are also rising to the occasion. This experience is already off to a better start than my last year in Jacksonville; I only hope it's a sign of things to come. As I really don't have a lot of details to share, I'll definitely make the effort to tell you allll about it next week. :)
With that, I'm going to get another refill and start reading up on the "52 Naked Truths About His Body" and see if I can make any of those little old ladies uncomfortable...
(Pssst... and in regards to Tracy's comment on the last post, YES: I did watch more than SATC episode. I watched 3. Tracy, I'm almost done with Season 4!)
As for me, I'm finally able to take a breath, sip some delicious Dunkin' Donuts coffee (surprisingly not over-priced), and anticipate the week ahead. This is probably why I love the airport the most: I have a ritual that involves buying a trashy magazine (Glamour is my favorite), finding a comfy spot by the gate, and absorbing the silent mania of the travel experience. Just knowing I'll be in a completely new destination within the next couple of hours is enough to get me through the embarrassing security check.
My destination, you ask? I've been granted an amazing opportunity (okay, well, it's mandatory) to attend AmeriCorps VISTA training in Atlanta for the next four days. Not only will I get to know the in's, the out's, and the all-about's of my commitment to being young and impoverished for the next year, but I'll also be surrounded by fellow members from the Southeast who are also rising to the occasion. This experience is already off to a better start than my last year in Jacksonville; I only hope it's a sign of things to come. As I really don't have a lot of details to share, I'll definitely make the effort to tell you allll about it next week. :)
With that, I'm going to get another refill and start reading up on the "52 Naked Truths About His Body" and see if I can make any of those little old ladies uncomfortable...
(Pssst... and in regards to Tracy's comment on the last post, YES: I did watch more than SATC episode. I watched 3. Tracy, I'm almost done with Season 4!)
Thursday, August 13, 2009
If You Drag Them Kicking and Screaming, They Will Come.
This is it. The era of 2008-2009 is almost over, and a new term of my life is about to begin. It's bizarre, really; I feel like resolutions should stop being reserved for the New Year, but should enter with you as you step into the next mode of life's transportation. January 1st, in my mind, is no longer "the new year." Every August for the last 23 years of my life I find myself stumbling into a new oblivion, far more scared, confused, excited, and giddy than I ever was waiting for the clock to strike midnight. Even as a post-grad, the academic calendar has remained the time-frame to which I operate: closing a new chapter, leaping blindly into the new one.
And here I am.
I'll be honest: I get the queasy urge to leave the brown nasties in my pants every time I think about the new move. My previous year as an AmeriCorps member in Jacksonville, FL, was a worth-while and truly life-changing experience... but in weird ways, the initial move and "settling in" phase left me traumatized. The move was done solely by my mother and me, and I ached with pain and frustration for days from getting all my belongings into a place so unfamiliar and bare. I remember crying every day I came home for weeks. I hated being so alone the best conversations I had were with Audrey, my Chihuahua, and even she hid under her blanket when I began to sob hysterically. I had a hard time making friends, and I missed John like I had never missed anyone before in my life. My new term moved much too slowly, and I didn't connect with my Corps members the way I imagined in my head we would. Granted, I did come to like my neighborhood, my service, and my new friends a lot, but I dread going through that period where I can't even pee in my own bathroom without locking the door for fear this isn't really my place and someone's going to come in any minute. Or that I'm that alone, no one will be able to help me if I really feel in danger, like when rat-sized cockroaches come scuttering out of the sink (true story). Or, worse, that I'm too afraid to give in and try something new because I'm scared it will be another big disappointment....
But at the same time, I find myself easily wrapped up in the little details: aka, spending lots of money on new "shtuff" for the new apartment! So, catching up from the last post, I did manage to find housing; it's better than a cardboard box on Meeting Street (which currently had been my best option, second only to a nice tent under the Cooper Bridge) -- but only slightly. It's a "quaint" studio apartment over the garage of a niiice house in an upscale neighborhood close to Charleston (for privacy's sake, seeing that my blog is floating in cyberspace, send me a message if you're interested to know exactly where ;). It's a "petite" 400 sq feet, but it's just what I need. It's a decent price, utilities included, close to lots of good places, and only a 20-25min ride into work -- 20ish minutes to anywhere in the Charleston area, really! Plus, it's really safe and very quiet, and the family - a dad and his two youngin's - seem very nice, totally laid back; and it's a 2.5hr shot to Columbia, Aiken, and Myrtle Beach. I think it's all going to work out. :D
With that, I'm going to drown my worries in another episode of Sex and the City, courtesy of Tracy! I'll have a status report come Monday...
And here I am.
I'll be honest: I get the queasy urge to leave the brown nasties in my pants every time I think about the new move. My previous year as an AmeriCorps member in Jacksonville, FL, was a worth-while and truly life-changing experience... but in weird ways, the initial move and "settling in" phase left me traumatized. The move was done solely by my mother and me, and I ached with pain and frustration for days from getting all my belongings into a place so unfamiliar and bare. I remember crying every day I came home for weeks. I hated being so alone the best conversations I had were with Audrey, my Chihuahua, and even she hid under her blanket when I began to sob hysterically. I had a hard time making friends, and I missed John like I had never missed anyone before in my life. My new term moved much too slowly, and I didn't connect with my Corps members the way I imagined in my head we would. Granted, I did come to like my neighborhood, my service, and my new friends a lot, but I dread going through that period where I can't even pee in my own bathroom without locking the door for fear this isn't really my place and someone's going to come in any minute. Or that I'm that alone, no one will be able to help me if I really feel in danger, like when rat-sized cockroaches come scuttering out of the sink (true story). Or, worse, that I'm too afraid to give in and try something new because I'm scared it will be another big disappointment....
But at the same time, I find myself easily wrapped up in the little details: aka, spending lots of money on new "shtuff" for the new apartment! So, catching up from the last post, I did manage to find housing; it's better than a cardboard box on Meeting Street (which currently had been my best option, second only to a nice tent under the Cooper Bridge) -- but only slightly. It's a "quaint" studio apartment over the garage of a niiice house in an upscale neighborhood close to Charleston (for privacy's sake, seeing that my blog is floating in cyberspace, send me a message if you're interested to know exactly where ;). It's a "petite" 400 sq feet, but it's just what I need. It's a decent price, utilities included, close to lots of good places, and only a 20-25min ride into work -- 20ish minutes to anywhere in the Charleston area, really! Plus, it's really safe and very quiet, and the family - a dad and his two youngin's - seem very nice, totally laid back; and it's a 2.5hr shot to Columbia, Aiken, and Myrtle Beach. I think it's all going to work out. :D
With that, I'm going to drown my worries in another episode of Sex and the City, courtesy of Tracy! I'll have a status report come Monday...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Restless Life Syndrome. Better than herpes.
I feel the need to apologize for the hiatus again; but part of me realizes the initial glamour and hype from my early blogging days is no more. My previous blog post attempt proved to be a major bust, and I wish I could jolt the creative part of my brain to make this thing worth reading again.
The problem is, I don't think it's my general creative-ness that's stifled; goodness knows I'm a ball of pent up energy on a pair of (really, really good-looking) legs. Rather, I think it's my general... well... life that's failing to move forward. Is it possible to experience "life block," all-too metaphorically similar to "writer's block"? (But no, not like "cock block" or "sunblock.")
The last few months have been a whirlwind, especially the last few weeks:
What's worse (but ironically good, really), is I see so many of my friends experiencing cool things: getting neat jobs, moving to exciting cities, traveling to amazing places, connecting with new people... I wonder when I'll catch a break. Shoot, I don't even need a whole break! I'll take a fracture, a splinter even! I'll spare you all the negative details from the last couple of weeks, but I wish I had one of those tell-tale signs that everything's going to be okay. I've even resorted to my old consolations of astrology; I'm embarrassed to say I take my horoscopes pathetically seriously, especially when all else seems to be all-for-not. Or knot. Or naught.
On another off-topic note, I would like to give a quick shout-out to the amazing Sarah O.:
She's always the one to leave comments on my blog, on my web-album pictures, even my off-the-wall status updates on Facebook. What's deliciously lovely about the way Sarah comments, though, is that it's not just a awkward anecdote or silly after-thought. No, Sarah has a brilliant way of catching the little things. And we all know she doesn't just do this for me - Sarah always has something nice to say about so many people, and it's nice to think there's always someone out there who genuinely cares about our random, daily lives! She's also the one who reignited my love of good old fashioned correspondence a long while back: writing letters, sending hand-written postcards, mailing special occasion and "just because" cards... it speaks to the "Jane Austen" part of me, and it's nice to think it's still a gesture worth the price of a stamp. :)
Until next time, to which I'll hopefully have some good news. Let's be positive... let's use The Secret!: "... to which I WILL have some good news." Now that's more like it!
Not like it matters. No one reads this tripe. I should give this up and write useless nonsense (as opposed to useful nonsense) on the back of shampoo bottles (Herbal Essence is my favorite... that stuff cracks me up!).
The problem is, I don't think it's my general creative-ness that's stifled; goodness knows I'm a ball of pent up energy on a pair of (really, really good-looking) legs. Rather, I think it's my general... well... life that's failing to move forward. Is it possible to experience "life block," all-too metaphorically similar to "writer's block"? (But no, not like "cock block" or "sunblock.")
The last few months have been a whirlwind, especially the last few weeks:
- I successfully wrapped up my Jacksonville experience (moving out and all!)
- Had an amazing and jam-packed (not to mention, much needed) vacation on Hilton Head Island with John and his family
- And learned John was accepted to transfer to USC Law in Columbia, his first choice, and managed to help him tie-up loose ends while bracing himself for a new adventure (PS. He found a sa-WEET apartment in downtown Columbia at a great deal... I never knew real estate could be so sexy until I saw this)
What's worse (but ironically good, really), is I see so many of my friends experiencing cool things: getting neat jobs, moving to exciting cities, traveling to amazing places, connecting with new people... I wonder when I'll catch a break. Shoot, I don't even need a whole break! I'll take a fracture, a splinter even! I'll spare you all the negative details from the last couple of weeks, but I wish I had one of those tell-tale signs that everything's going to be okay. I've even resorted to my old consolations of astrology; I'm embarrassed to say I take my horoscopes pathetically seriously, especially when all else seems to be all-for-not. Or knot. Or naught.
On another off-topic note, I would like to give a quick shout-out to the amazing Sarah O.:
She's always the one to leave comments on my blog, on my web-album pictures, even my off-the-wall status updates on Facebook. What's deliciously lovely about the way Sarah comments, though, is that it's not just a awkward anecdote or silly after-thought. No, Sarah has a brilliant way of catching the little things. And we all know she doesn't just do this for me - Sarah always has something nice to say about so many people, and it's nice to think there's always someone out there who genuinely cares about our random, daily lives! She's also the one who reignited my love of good old fashioned correspondence a long while back: writing letters, sending hand-written postcards, mailing special occasion and "just because" cards... it speaks to the "Jane Austen" part of me, and it's nice to think it's still a gesture worth the price of a stamp. :)
Until next time, to which I'll hopefully have some good news. Let's be positive... let's use The Secret!: "... to which I WILL have some good news." Now that's more like it!
Not like it matters. No one reads this tripe. I should give this up and write useless nonsense (as opposed to useful nonsense) on the back of shampoo bottles (Herbal Essence is my favorite... that stuff cracks me up!).
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