making sense of the senseless

I've been working with kids for a long time. As a childcare professional I've gone through a lot of safety trainings and every time I hope to never have to use them. I think I'll be rereading my notes this weekend. I'm sensitive in ways that may not be obvious right away. I tear up at CPR training sometimes because I can't help but imagine scenarios where a knowledge of CPR might prove useful. When sitting through a safety training I imagine what it might feel like in an actual emergency. I'm thinking about the steps: shelter-in-place is announced, lock the doors, move away from the windows, huddle all 40 kids inside the kitchen and wait for the all clear. But that could never happen at my program. I'm sure the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary thought it could never happen at their school, until it did. And I can't help but try to imagine myself in their shoes as they remembered their safety training. Active shooter on campus. Never mind how much those words should never have to be spoken at an elementary school. But they acted fast and bravely and kept their students safe, and I can't imagine what they must be feeling now knowing that they survived and other didn't.

Everyone is trying to make sense of it and figure out who to blame. Guns or mental illness or some combination of factors. How to prevent this from ever happening again. It doesn't make sense, though. Senseless acts of violence are like that. 

I was reading about this shooting before work today, just a few minutes before I went out to meet my kids after school. I was reading about it and holding back tears as I listened to my coworkers talk about Youtube videos. It was in the back of my mind all day. I was thinking about this and the senseless act of violence that happened in my neighborhood Wednesday night when two teenage boys shot a man over an argument about sports. Senseless. Violence. 

I was thinking about it when I saw a group of sixth graders throwing clumps of dirt at a group of fourth graders playing soccer, and when one of those clumps of dirt hit a boy in the face and he started walking toward me crying, and when I almost lost my cool and raised my voice at the sixth graders that this shit has got to stop. Kids throwing dirt at each other is not the worst thing they could be doing, for sure. But the attitude that it's no big deal is what bothers me. They'll say they're just playing, but somebody inevitably gets hurt and my job is to keep them safe while they're in my care.

The news about the shooting in Connecticut had not reached my elementary schools kids by this afternoon and we were asked not to bring it up so their parents could address it with them first, but I'm sure it will be a topic of conversation on Monday. I hope it will be an opportunity to talk about the point I've been trying to get through to them all year, which is simply don't hurt each other. 

new leg: frustrations

Things finally came through and I picked up my knew leg Friday. Everything is new on this thing: brand new socket that fits a lot tighter (better) than the old one, cute new foot that's not too big or too wide and a new knee.

Here's a picture of the foot, which is basically the only part of this leg I'm excited about:

If you've ever been shoe shopping with me before, which you probably haven't, you'd know why I'm so happy about this foot. My left foot is a narrow size 6.5 and for the past 15 years that I've had to contend with a rubber right foot that has varied from a very wide size 7 to a very wide 6 (apparently they don't make half sizes in fake feet), none of which has ever wanted to fit nicely or easily into a woman's shoe. I've broken a sweat trying to pry on dress shoes before. But this new foot is as close to perfect as I could imagine. It's like a lady's foot. I don't know if all those other feet were made for men, or if they just had a generic gender neutral prosthetic foot up until now. But, here it is, a just right foot. No more sweating over shoes.

The socket fits a lot tighter than my old one, but that's because that's how it's supposed to fit and my old one is now slightly too big because I lost a little weight since I got this set up four years ago. It happens. 

I was at my leg place for about three hours Friday because I forgot how horrible the whole process can be. Everything was built and assembled, so we just needed to get the height and alignment correct... which it isn't. I'm not sure if my old leg was just really short and I got used to being short on the right side or if the new one is slightly too long. But the smallest length disparity feels real weird. Right now it feels real weird.

I downgraded from a C-leg to an Ossur Mauch knee (click those links to learn more about fancy prosthetic technology from the respective manufacturers). Ossur is the same company that makes those cool blade legs for running (worn by Olympian Oscar Pistorius) and the Mauch is supposed to be a pretty high end knee that allows the wearer to do cool things (like climb Mt. Kilimanjaro  apparently-- if you watch the video on their website you'll hear how that guy did that with this knee). Really, all I want to do is walk to the grocery story and withstand attack hugs from kids at work. 

When I tried the new knee at the office I was noticing it wasn't quite bending and felt really stiff, they made some adjustments but it didn't really get better. They sent me home with both legs so I could get used to the new one gradually. I still owe them my loaner C-leg back, but after wearing the Mauch around for a little while today I don't think I want to give up my old knee. I'm not sure if I'm doing something wrong or the knee is just set up all wrong, but it's only bending about 50% of the time I'm walking and I haven't been able to figure it out. The first step feels fine, the knee swings, it's cool... but I walked all the way to the bank today like a pirate and it was not fun. I just want to walk normal, or as close to normal as I can get. It did not look or feel normal walking around with the new leg today and it was insanely frustrating. Now that I have health insurance I might be able to get on a plan that will cover a new C-leg, but I don't know which plan that is or how many times they'll let me change plans (since my coverage hasn't even officially started yet). There are things I could potentially do with the Mauch that I probably couldn't do with the C-leg (like run, if I suddenly decided to start doing that), but I just got so comfortable with the C-leg and it's so good for just normal walking around things. 

So now I don't know what I'm going to do, and of course next week is a short week with Thanksgiving, so I don't know if I'll be able to get in for adjustments. I do plan on calling the leg guy Monday to let him know what's going on. But seriously, leg stuff is so frustrating.

my week with the republicans (part 1)

Last Friday I got a call from the temp agency I've been working for about a week long assignment. She informed me that it would involved phone banking for the Republican party (and she said "Republican party" like it was a dirty word). She said she understood if I didn't want to take the assignment and I had a quick internal debate. I was so conflicted I told her I'd have to call her back. Because the truth was, I really needed the money from this assignment, but did I really want to work for the Republican party? Eventually I decided that I'd really like to pay my rent this month and, if anything, I might get some good stories out of it.

I showed up at the Romney campaign office Monday morning at 9am and checked in with the woman from the temp agency. There were four tables set up around a shabby front office, each with four phones. I found a seat at a table with three middle-aged black women, because those are my favorite kind of temp workers. I haven't been inside any campaign offices before, but this one was pretty sad. It looked like they just rented out whatever space they could find and slapped a few stickers on the wall. Looking around the room it was clear that we were all temp workers, and I took some pleasure in the fact that they couldn't round up enough volunteers and had to contract out to a temp agency. There's some irony in the idea of a bunch of marginally employed Philadelphians making calls for the Republican party, most, if not all of, of whom are likely Obama voters.

The best/worst part was the script we were given to guide the phone calls we would be making. For some reason we were targeting woman voters, but as you'll see in the image below there wasn't anything that really addressed the concerns of women in the script (you'll also see that I used mine primarily for doodling).

fiction (untitled and in progress)

Claire licks her lips. Not seductively, but because they were dry and she forgot her lip balm when she switched bags that morning. She has about seven lip balms scattered around her apartment and in different bags, but somehow she forgot to transfer one into her big tote bag before she ventured outside today. It’s mid-Autumn and the humid summer air is finally receding. She likes the cooler, crisper air that comes with Autumn, but she couldn’t stop licking her dry lips. She looks down and notices her ankles are also dry, and digging in her bag for lotion she realized she forgot that too.

She is sitting on a park bench in the middle of the city. The other half of the bench was occupied by an old woman when she first sat down, but the woman got up and walked away with a friendly smile after a few minutes. Claire will only sit next to old women at this park. She is wary of the older men and nervous around the attractive younger men. Old women are usually a safe bet; she feels comfortable smiling at an old woman.

reasons why I'd be totally content to work part time right now

I'm currently being considered for two different part time position in my field. I am totally happy with this. If I could miraculously get both of these jobs my life would be awesome. Job 1 is at an after school program a few blocks from my apartment. For a part time after school job they've made me go through a whole lot of steps and I'm hoping my continued interest will act in my favor. And they'd be crazy not to hire me. After school programs are my thing. I've written papers about it. Job 2 is a part time library position at a Catholic school. It would only be two days a week but with a schedule flexible enough that I could still do the after school job. I love the idea of working in a school library. I love books and I love seeing kids get excited about books and I would like to share my excitement about books with kids. I saw the library and it was a little sad, but I'm confident that I could make it awesome. Hopefully I convinced the principal that I am serious and enthusiastic about this part time opportunity.

Part of me feels like I should be more ambitious and try harder to secure full time, grown-up employments. But, then again, 7+ of unemployment has kind of crushed my spirit and part time jobs might be all I can handle right now. These two part time jobs in particular would be good on my resume and I feel like I could learn and grow as a professional educator.

Here are a few more reasons why I'd be content with part time employment:
- I'd be able to make ends meet, if not overlap. I've gotten so used to being so broke any steady income would be wonderful. I've done the math and these jobs would allow me to pay my rent and my bills and probably have some cash left over for food. Anything consistent would be better than the constant state of broke-ness I've been experiencing currently.
- Free time! If I'm only working 20-30 hours a week I'll still have loads of free time for comedy things and friend things and fun things. And I won't have to rely on the kindness of my friends to buy me drinks when we go out. And coming up with septa fare to get around won't be a constant struggle.
- I could ease into the whole "career" thing. I may be highly educated, but I am not very experienced in terms of work things. It might be nice to be able to ease into it with less pressure than I'd get from a full time teaching position.
- I am so damn tired of applying for job, writing cover letters, and going to interviews only to be rejected again and again. I can only handle so much rejection.

Seriously guys. I am so sad and so broke right now. I need these jobs. Waiting a week or so to hear about them is awful. So if you see me in the next week and I seem off, that is why.

people i interact with at open mics

I've been trying to go to more open mics lately because I have a lot of free time right now and I should be taking better advantage of it. Going out more has made me noticed there are generally three kinds of people I interact with at open mics (or don't). I'm going to break it down in a list because lists are fun and easy to do. And these are generalizations and probably vague descriptions and if you're a comedian friend I encourage you to try and figure out what category you're in (or don't).

1. People I'd like to talk to, but don't
These are mostly people who have been doing this comedy thing a lot longer than I have and are more "legitimate." I only want to talk to them if they're people I find funny though. Sometimes I'll say hello to these people or even a few more words than hello... sometimes these people will even say "good set" to me and I'll wonder if they mean it or if they're just being nice to a lowly noob open mic comic such as myself. I'm wracked with insecurity. It just want to be liked! But I get nervous talking to most people and I'm easily intimidated.

2. People I truly enjoy talking to
These are people with whom I've had real actual conversations in real life (and probably on facebook too). People I like. People I feel comfortable talking to outside comedy shows and open mics. People with whom I have stuff in common beside doing comedy things sometimes. People with whom I can talk about actual life stuff if I want to. Or not. (There's actually a lot of gray area between these three categories now that I think about it.) There are more people I kind of am comfortable talking to than people I truly enjoy talking to. (Why did I start out ending with a preposition and then try to not to that and then just go right back to it? Am I trying to prove to you that I went to college? I minored in Linguistics so I could totally draw a grammar tree showing that it's permissible to end a sentence with a preposition if you want to.)

3. People I really don't want to talk to
These are usually new open mikers and they are usually drunk and nervous. It's not that I don't want to impart my limited wisdom ("Whatever, man, just have fun with it. And stop drinking.") Sometimes these are just regular drunk people and sometimes they are hitting on me (I think?) or just getting in the way of me talking to people in category two. I don't really enjoy talking to drunk people. Unless I'm drunk, in which case I'll talk to everyone. But I try not to be drunk at open mics.


This list is probably over-simplified and incomplete.

first time

I hosted my first open mic last night and it was really fun! My good friend Bradley Beck was kind enough to let me host the open mic portion of the comedy show he hosts with the lovely Becca Trabin (who wasn't there last night because she was in NYC because she's too good for us, apparently [just kidding, Becca, ilu!]). I'm going to start a new sentence because that was a weird parenthetical tangent. The show is called Accidents Will Happen and you can click on those words to go to the facebook page.

Anyway. So last night was super fun and hosting the mic was also a good time, if a little nerve-wracking. I took about four minutes at the beginning  to warm up and crowd (which was great and big, until they all left around midnight) and I felt like I had a good set. I tried some new stuff and finally think I've worked out this joke I've been developing for a couple weeks to something that will actually make people laugh rather than just feel bad for me. Most of the open mic comics were great and it was a lot of people I didn't know already, so that was kind of cool. The most stressful thing was the handshake that did or didn't happen between myself and the comics, eventually I just gave up on trying to shake anyone's hand, but sometimes it happened. Then I tried switching it up to high-fives, which are more my speed anyway, but that didn't really work out. Regardless of my awkward stage presence, I think everyone enjoyed themselves (I hope).

I also took pictures, which is another thing I like to do. I'll probably add some to this post when they're ready.

Here's a link to some photos from the first half of the show!

shredder

A couple years ago my dad bought me a paper shredder for Christmas. This seemed like an odd gift for a father to give to his 24-year-old daughter, but I've used it. Credit card offers I get in the mail go straight into the shredder. When I stumble across and electric bill from 2010 it goes in the shredder. Before I moved to Philadelphia I did some serious shredding. I have a weird tendency to hold onto things. A few years back I bought an accordion folder to try and organize my important documents. I organized it for health insurance stuff, income, taxes, student loans, etc. Lately though I've just been piling stuff up on my kitchen table and various other surfaces in my apartment. Here's what my kitchen table looked like a little earlier today:

And here it is, relatively tidy, after I looked at the above picture again and thought, "What the hell is all this paper doing here?!"

Most of it went in the trash (or the shredder). A few things went into the accordion folder, which I swear I'm going to organize someday soon. 

The problem is, I tend to be kind of sentimental. I still have the first "Certificate of Awesomeness" I received from my good friend Doc Thunder's karaoke night. I feel bad throwing away cards from family members (especially my grandparents-- it just feels heartless). I still have drawings and notes from former campers and students (some of these are from YEARS ago, but I just can't let go). I still have notebooks from college undergrad classes, and I have SO many notebooks and handouts and whathaveyous from grad school. This isn't normal. Am I a hoarder? Am I just too lazy to go through this crap and clean house? (Probably the latter.) Do other people just store this kind of crap at their parents' house, who eventually toss it all out for them?

Every once in a while I'll get a burst of energy and tidy up a small area of my living space, but usually within a month it's back to the same old mess. One of these days I promise, I promise YOU dear reader, that I am going to clean up and get organized and donate the mountains of clothes and books that I don't even remember owning and then feed all my old bills and pay stubs from 2004 to that damn shredder. (Seriously, I found a pay stub from 2004 when I was looking for medical documents a few weeks ago... why???)

Afterthoughts:

It's interesting (or at least I find it interesting) that in work situations and I extremely organized. Nothing bothers me more than a messy work station. If I'm working at a desk that desk better be neat and organized. The first thing I did when I got my job in human resources was organized that space (which was formerly occupied by a lovely but not-so-neat coworker). I moved around files so they made sense, I shredded the crap out of years-old resumes and job applications, and things ran smoothly. Is it because I was being paid to be organized in this situation? Do I care more about other people's shit than my own shit?

what the hell DO I want? (dating edition)

I've been single for a little over a year now. A big part of the reason I chose to end my six year relationship was that I felt I had lost touch with just who the hell I am. In the past year I feel like I have effectively figured that out. Now, after a year on my own, I feel like I'm ready for something. Something. But what exactly?

Dating after a long term relationship is weird and confusing and I still haven't figured it out. My love life over the past year has consisted of: drunk hook-ups, one night stands, and a couple trysts that have lasted more than one night (literally, like three). Oh, a whole lot of awkward/terrible OKCupid dates (which are the worst). I've had more than one guy I've been interested in say to me that he is just not looking for a relationship right now. To which I replied, "Cool, thanks for not wasting anymore of my time." Not that I'm desperately looking for a relationship or anything.

I'm actually more confident in my worth as a human being and more aware of what I have to offer to the world more now that I've ever been before. So that's not my problem. I strongly feel that if someone rejects me it's more likely their loss. I have a joke that basically asks whether certain things I do mean that I'm happier now or just desperately lonely. I think maybe both are true.

The only thing I'm missing in my life right now is gainful employment (and a man, I guess). I have amazing friends and I love where I live. I know (roughly) what I want in a job. So, what the hell do I want in terms of relationships and dating?


Basically: It would be nice to have someone I could call my boyfriend, but all I really want is someone to hang out with/ make out with on a somewhat regular basis. Someone who's nice to me, pays attention, returns phone calls and texts, makes me laugh, and tattoos are also nice. Fairly simple. Preferably this person would be someone I know/meet in real life and not a weird Internet person (I'm probably going to disable my OKC account again soon, it's been nothing but disappointments there). 


Seriously, why is it so hard to find a guy who wants to make out with me more than once?

little kids just wanna know stuff

I was visiting a summer camp/after school program today (where I will hopefully be working soon) and I got to talk to a lot of little kids about my leg. Usually when I'm working with a new group of kids I'll wear long pants to avoid the distraction, but it was hot today so I went with a skirt. I expected and welcomed their questions. Six-year-olds are the only people who can asked me "What happened to your leg?" and get a friendly response.

Kids tend to want to know the same sorts of things. When I worked at summer camp years ago (holy crap, that was 10 years ago!) I actually made a list of Frequently Asked Questions for that reason. They tend to ask the following:

• What happened? (depending on the age of the asker I give various vague answers that aren't completely true "The muscles in my leg were sick." "Why?" "I don't know, they just were." Or, "I was in an accident...")
• Did it hurt?
• Can you feel this? (poke poke poke)
• Is your foot real? (Umm... no.)
• Will it grow back?
• How do you sleep/shower/swim? 

And the generally want to know how it works and I get to give them a science lesson about robots based on my limited understanding of how my leg actually works. I had one great conversation today that went as follows (These kids were staring and whispering to each other until one of them finally work up the courage to ask me):

Kid: What happened to your leg?

Me: A long time ago I was in an accident and I hurt my leg really bad, so the doctors had to give me a new one.

Kid: That's crazy!

Me: Yeah, I guess it's kinda crazy.

Kid: I like your shoes. 

There was also the little boy who just kept asking "Why?" after every response I gave (he really wanted to know stuff, I guess) and the little girl who kept trying to lift my skirt up to see the rest of my fake leg. It was refreshing when I walked into the classroom with the older kids and all I got was "Oooo, I like her hair!" from a girl. 

And it was all cuter than the drunk guy in a suit near Rittenhouse Square Thursday night who asked, with all the confusion of a child (a drunk child?), "Why are you walking like that?" (He didn't get any response).

this is getting old, guys

So I'm approaching the 6 month mark since I finished grad school and I still don't have a goddamn job and it's, it's just getting OLD. At first it was kind of nice having all this free time with no papers to write and nowhere to be during the day, and in those early months I still had savings! I was able to pay my rent and buy food and even buy other things too! It was magic. I was applying for jobs everyday and trying to be proactive and getting interviews (no jobs though). I thought about being even more proactive and applying for food stamps and things like that earlier, before I ran out of money, but I convinced myself that I would get a job soon. Well, that didn't happen!

What's on my scattered mind right now:

• Applying for jobs is so much more depressing after 6 months of rejection. I feel like I'm not qualified for anything and putting any effort into a cover letter is a waste of time because nonewantstohiremeanyway. I know this way of thinking is wrong, but how much rejection can a person take?

• My apartment is kind of a disaster and I don't want to deal with it. Piles of things. Everywhere. I was looking for a specific piece of paper the other day and had to sift through piles of receipts, junk mail, random hand out and programs from different events... why do I feel the need to hold onto this stuff? I need to start getting rid of shit in preparation for when I inevitably have to move into a cheaper place because no one will give me a fucking job.

• I went to the welfare office today to apply for food stamps and medical assistance because I need these things. I was the only white person there, which wasn't too surprising because it's West Philly. I have no way of knowing if I was the only masters degree person there, but the likelihood of that made me feel a weird mix if privilege and failure. If me and my fancy degree and my fairly comfortable upbringing can't get a decent job we're all fucked.

• Disability is oddly defined in this society. When you're applying for assistance from the state or county you have to be so disabled that you can't ever work... but then there's this whole other office whose sole purpose is to get people with disabilities working. I am currently dealing with both. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? Am I to be some invalid who doesn't work and lays at home with my helper monkey watching Maury? Or am I to seek your help holding down some office job until I die?

(Obviously it's not that simple. And I'm not doing a good job here at simplifying it in a funny way, so let's get serious. I can work and I want to work, however, there are some jobs I can't really do or that I would be really bad at on account of my leg. I can't lift things (like boxes or small children) safely, I'm slow as fuck on stairs so if those are around forget it, bending can be awkward, standing for long periods of time hurts me. Luckily I'm pretty fucking smart so anything that doesn't require physical labor is cool with me (seriously, smart lady right here, why isn't anyone hiring me?). So I need to convince them that I can or can't work? I'm confused, seriously.
     Realistically, though, my prosthesis is what allows me to work. Without it I'm kind of useless. It's hard to navigate most terrain on crutches. My two ideal work environments right now would be an office or a classroom and even in those relatively low-impact environments (relatively) crutches don't work. So, I need my leg fixed because the prospect of not having a functioning prosthesis is terrifying to me. It would be like losing my leg all over again )

• Comedy. Am I doing this right? How long am I going to do this? Why am I doing this? Sometimes part of me is like "I should get more serious about this and go out more open mics and actually talk to people and work on my material," and another part of me is like "Really? Don't you have to like apply for jobs or something?"

   
Where am I even going with this?

I don't know, but I'm definitely not proofreading it.

help me stay in philly

When I finished school back in December I did some math and determined that I had enough money in saving from my student loans to get me through about May if I didn't find a job in the meantime. My estimations turned out to be pretty accurate. It's now almost June and I am now almost screwed. I'm still applying for jobs without much luck and I'm running out of money. I'm applying for assistance, but that stuff doesn't work fast. When I was filling out one of the applications today there was a question about education and one of the choices was "no formal education" and I had some feelings as I checked off "masters degree." My education puts me in a more privileged position than a lot of folks. As does my whiteness. I don't think I was poor growing up, our basic needs were always met, but I am not able to rely on my parents for help right now. Both of them have offered to let me move back home for a little while while I get it together, but I really don't want to do that. What is there for me in Central Mass besides free rent? All my friends are here in Philly. Professionally, I want to work here in Philly and do something good for this city (if only someone would hire me already-- I would do SO MUCH good, I swear).

So now I'm reaching out to my friends and any Internet strangers who might be reading this. You can donate to help me survive here a little longer as I continue my valiant job search by clicking on this link. The goal amount of $3000 is based on the total cost to repair my prosthesis. See, I don't have insurance right now and it takes a while to get on medical assistance so I'm walking around with this loaner knee for as long as they'll let me. But if they need this knee back before I get some form of insurance I'll be back to a broken knee that's barely functional and I will be in a position where working will be a problem because of my disability. If enough people donate to help me pay my rent and I am able to find a job in the next few weeks I'll have some money to put toward fixing my knee. I can contribute much more to society and my community with a working prosthesis. So if you have a little extra money and you're feeling generous, donate to a good cause (ME). 

Maurice Sendak, writing, and guilt

Maurice Sendak died today and I've been spending a lot of time reading about his life and work and feeling inspired by the things he's said about writing, art, and children. This quote stood out for me, especially, as I'm setting out to write this story about how I grew up:

“Grown-ups desperately need to feel safe, and then they project onto the kids. But what none of us seem to realize is how smart kids are. They don’t like what we write for them, what we dish up for them, because it’s vapid, so they’ll go for the hard words, they’ll go for the hard concepts, they’ll go for the stuff where they can learn something, not didactic things, but passionate things.” (link)

I think this is a really important as an an educator, or a write, or any person who interacts with children on a regular basis to understand and appreciate "how smart kids are." I've never met a kid who didn't have a story. From the kid who's been in the foster care system since a young age who were finally adopted by an amazing lesbian couple, or the boy who moved around from relative to relative and writes about how much he misses his dad who's been in and out of prison to the genius 3rd-now-4th-grader who articulately told me about how she admired her mom for taking care of elders where she works then coming home to take care of her and her sister. Children don't need to be sheltered, they need to be respected and listened to. I know there are some things in my personal story, things I did at 12 or 13, that might make some adults uncomfortable, but it's nothing most 12 or 13-year-olds have experienced or at least have an awareness of. 

I recently had a conversation with my sister about that time period when I tried to kill myself, the hospitals, and how our relationship changed in the aftermath of it all. I was surprised to learn about the guilt she felt, still, for not having done more. I had never really heard her perspective. I understood the fear and confusion she felt, she was 10 at the time and didn't really understand what was happening. But she felt guilty for not doing more, not calling 911. I was aware of my own guilt, and of my mother's guilt, but I had never thought about my sister's guilt. My guilt has to do with putting my family, my little sister, through such a traumatic experience. 

And what would have happened if she had called 911? My leg might have been saved. But would I have had to learn the hard lessons that have made me the person I now am if that had happened? Honestly, I think I'm better off without it-- the leg, that is. I don't think it's worth spending a lot of time thinking about how things would be different if it all played out differently, because things happened and now we're here and we're all stronger for it.

the difference a year makes

I'm still trying to decide if I want to type a blog post about this crazy year of change that has just happened as I type this. So I might as well just keep typing, right?

One year ago I ended a pretty toxic relationship in the midst of an identity crisis and embarked on a journey to figure out just who the hell I am. And all in all I'd say it's been a pretty cool journey. Even if my life isn't exactly where I want it to be right now I've met a ton of really awesome people over the past year and feel more valued by other than I have before. And I'm getting there. So how about a list?

Things that are new in the past year:
- I have a master's degree! Last Spring was a time of great personal change, yet I managed to finish out the semester well and power through it and finish my degree. So that was pretty awesome.
- I live by myself for the first time basically ever and it's pretty awesome.
- I've made a lot of really amazing, supportive, super cool friends in the past year and I feel loved and valued by a whole bunch of people.
- I'm brave enough to do karaoke sober!
- I started doing comedy as a thing and it's been pretty cool. I think I'm kind of good at it.
- I feel confident and more secure in myself as a person. I'm someone worth knowing and I have a lot to offer and I won't be taken for granted, dammit!

I think I've decided through this experience that if something isn't working sometimes it is best to just cut it out and figure out a better way to do things. It's important to put yourself first every once in a while, etc., etc..

this is going to be intense

I decided that if I tell important people in my life that I want to write this book maybe I'll be forced to do it. I have the time right now and I feel like it's a story worth telling. Important people being key characters in the book, like my sister and my best friend at the time.

I had a really good day today. I felt good about things, even if I didn't fully trust my happiness to last. That's what happens when you get continuously let down. But my personal life seems good right now. Promising. And I had a really good job interview for a job I really want. I felt hopeful. I sat in the park all day and saw friends. Then I got home and looked at my bank account and realized that after I pay my rent this week I'm going to be broke and that I'm not making nearly enough money to sustain anything right now. I got depressed and had a small meltdown. Then my sister called me.

My sister is one of the only people who I can talk to on the phone for more than 10 minutes. We ended up talking for an hour. I mentioned this book I want to write about growing up and welcomed any insight, which she provided. I had never really thought about the events in questions from her perspective. That may be selfish of me. Guilt was a theme. We all feel guilty for different reasons. No one is at fault, though... really.

After talking to my sister I emailed the two girls I was with on that day (see this blog post for details) and within moments my phone rang. It was one of those girls. She was my best friend at the time, that was 14 years ago. I haven't heard her voice in a long time. She was almost manic. The major themes of the conversation were that I am an awesome person and an inspiration and that we've both been through a lot of shit and we are good, strong, well-intentioned people doing the best we can with what we've got. It was good to hear those things from her. We need to keep in better touch.

All I'm trying to say here is that between those two very intense conversations and actually starting to write I'm realizing this writing process is going to be really fucking intense and emotionally exhausting.

listening to people's conversations

I was at Green Line today listening to other people's conversation, as I tend to do. I overheard a girl talking to her friend about her quarter million dollar book deal and comparing herself to all these classic writers (Salinger was one of them) and basically carrying on about how awesome she is. She described the plot to her friend and the title of the book, which sounded like the name of an emo band from ten years ago. It was basically a disability motif somewhat common in fiction where a promising young person suffers some kind of accident leaving them "crippled for life" (he words). Her main character shatters his knee or something and his life is apparently over as a result (this interpretation is based on a few minutes of eavesdropping, I haven't actually read this alleged book). This motif bothers me because it's not what actually happens when a young person suffers an accident or tragedy leaving them with disability. And I don't like when people use the word crippled because it's a stupid thing to say in 2012 when there's so much cool technology that exists to allow people with disabilities to lead mostly normal and productive lives. Another common disability motif is the idea of someone overcoming their disability by carrying out some feat of athleticism. And I don't like that one either. I think maybe I hated this girl so much because I was a little jealous. I want a book deal. I'd need to write a book first I guess.

Which brings me to this idea I've had for a while now, which is to write a young adult memoir about my life from age 11 until whenever I decide to wrap it up. This book I have in my head targets young adults because I think my story is something a lot of kids could relate to. I'd try to make it more funny than sad. But following through is a problem I have. Especially when it comes to writing. The intended audience also has to do with the fact that I'm only 26 at the moment and haven't really done much with my life yet. But I think it's important to have stories about disability that are real and accessible for everyone and carry the message that it's okay to just try to have a normal life if something bad happens to you. You're not going to be "crippled for life" but you don't have to compete in the paralympics to prove your worth.

handicapable

So I've been feeling extra disabled lately on account of my prosthesis is broken. Fortunately I have a friend with connections and was able to find a prosthetics place in the area that is willing to do some pro bono work for poor folk like myself. I went in on Tuesday to get a loaner knee while they send off my old knee to find out what the deal with it is, but I had a stripped screw. So I had to go back today to their other location where the nice technicians were able to take that thing apart. These are things you have to think about when you're me. Stripped screws in your knee. So now I'm all set up with my loaner knee. The technician guy even cleaned up my cover and glued together the ugly slit they had to cut in the back of it when they took the thing apart, so I don't look like robo-Frankenstein.

Problem is, I don't have insurance right now due to the fact that I am not adequately employed. I applied for medical assistance through the county/state, but lord knows how long that'll take to go through. Hopefully they let me keep the loaner until it does. I don't want to go back to my broken leg. 

And I'm going to allow myself to get a little political for a second, because healthcare is a major fucking disaster in this country. Having access to a fully functional prosthesis allows me to be as mobile and productive as any able-bodied person (within reason, obvs). Having to limp around on a broken leg limits my employment options and forces me to be a drain on a system. If my leg is so broken that I can't walk on it, I can't work. This shit is expensive and I need health insurance to cover the cost (and most insurers only cover a percentage of the cost anyway). I'm fortunate to be an intelligent person who knows how to navigate the system and has a strong network of support, but, what I'm trying to say is, no one in this country should go without care that will allow them to live a normal, productive life. Dammit. 

(I don't normally feel "disabled" when my leg is working like it should. I do my thing with a few extra steps in the morning and don't bother to let it slow me down. But, when my leg was broken I was feeling the challenges and thinking about how much harder it would be if I had no prosthesis at all.)

Okay, that's enough for now. 

This week is off to a good start

So far this is shaping up to be a good week. Here's why:

Sunday-
My friend Dr. Thunder's comedy contest, Not While I'm Eating, debuted at a new location (Queen of Sheba, two blocks from its other location) to a good sized crowd, lots of new faces and new talent. I didn't win, but I thought my set went well and I had a great time.

Monday-
I got a call from a temp agency about getting set up to do admin work through them. So hopefully I can generate some more income soon.
I also worked for a couple hours.
After that I bravely went to Laughs on Fairmount by myself to do the open mic. I got there early so I was able to get a good spot on the list, #12. Not too early, but early enough that there was still a good amount of people there. I was trying to stick to a theme so I only did two jokes in under the allotted three minutes, but I heard a lot o laughs so I think it was good.
After comedy I went out to karaoke (comedy and karaoke are my two favorite things right now) with two of my good friends at a gay bar where they had PBR tallboys for $2. We sang well and went to a 24 hour diner after.

Tuesday-
I went to the temp agency to fill out paperwork and talk to them about what I'm looking for (anything they can give me), so got that ball rolling.
And I'm going to karaoke again soon! Best.

Also, I have a date tomorrow so hopefully that's good. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I'm feeling good about this week.

Why I don't want to work at camp this summer

The only job prospect I have on my horizons is summer camp. At first I was like, "Oh cool, a job. Maybe I can keep paying my rent," but then I was like, "But this doesn't start until July... what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" And as the weeks since my initial interview have progressed I've found more and more reasons why I DO NOT want to work at camp. They just emailed me an agreement to sign ensuring my committment to a torturous summer of strenuous work for very little money and Idon'twannadoit. Here are some reasons (I'm into lists lately):

1. It's going to be HOT this summer and I don't function well when it's hot

2. I have to be basically across town at 8am (7:30am for weekly staff meetings). How the fuck?

3. I need to have a form filled out by "my physician." I don't have a physician. What do I look like, an employed person? Someone who lives with their parents?

4. How am I supposed to pay my rent/bills in May and June? How am I supposed to work a 2nd job when  have to work full time at camp for one mere month? How is this a reasonable deal for anyone who doesn't live with their parents?

5. I am getting too damn old for this. Can I please just sit in an air conditioned office all summer?

I'll basically work anywhere to avoid this misery but if nothing comes through soon I am doomed because I need to work somewhere. 

Things I've been doing since finishing grad school

It's been around three months since I finished grad school and I honestly have not been doing much with my time. The longer I go without steady employment the less motivated I am to do stuff, too, which is helpful. But in case you were wondering what I've been up to (you haven't- who's even reading this?) here's a list:

- updating a website for money (not taking into account that the more time I spend on it the more money I get)
- volunteering to help kids become better writers and leading a humor writing workshop for 10-12-year-olds
- karaoke/ drinking
- stand up comedy/ drinking
- working twice a week at an after school program/ not making enough money
- sending out resumes, getting rejected by potential employers
- getting discouraged about it
- making found poetry with my rejection letters
- trying to come up with creative ways to make money (not trying very hard)
- sitting in the park on nice days
- staying in on less nice days so I don't spend money
- applying for food stamps (soon)/ wondering if my Ivy League degree disqualifies me from this
- spending too much time on facebook
- spending at least an hour sitting at my computer in my pajamas every morning (afternoon, really) doing nothing productive
- showering/ washing my hair less and less frequently