strange musings of a distracted spunk

Surprisingly, round two of the roommate hunt went much more smoothly than round one. Perhaps round one was sort of a decoy, as though I should feel as though Berkeley’s residents were hopeless? With the lovely help of my friend Skylar Blue from the old AmeriCorps days, we set on today’s mission of “Find DS a roommate!”

The first girl arrived a bit after two, which I didn’t mind as I was still reeling from the game-on atmosphere of the last few days. Yes, ladies and gents, I am back in business. GDB and his lovely body are a thing of the past because I have moved on, and quite officially too. Three times in one morning methinks qualifies as good moving on behavior. Though my vagina may be a bit stunned, because it forgot what that was like. Something along the lines of, *penis enters* “Um…what are you doing here? I’m busy doing my nails…and I have to wash my hair. I’m not ready for this yet. Can you come back another time?”

We’ll see how I fare tomorrow.

So anyhow, the first girl arrived and while I knew I liked her e-mail, I didn’t expect to like her as much as I did. She reminded me a great deal of my old roommate in Manhattan, and she also has a cat! (This is a big selling point, folks.) She was more quiet than outgoing, and she seemed as though she’d be super relaxed and easy to live with. Her e-mail said she’d be down for someone she could talk to, but not have to talk all the time. A bit more introverted, she seemed like someone I could easily get along with. There was also the fact that she had super cute style which reminded me of some of my friends and made me feel instantly comfortable. After some basic chit-chat, she went on her merry way, and I felt slightly resolved in the fact that heeyyyy! There might be some normal folk after all!

Not long after, the phone rings again, and it’s Sailor Boy. I took one look at him and knew there was no way in hell I could live with him without wanting to jump him. He was cute, smart, funny, and from the East Coast! Hallelujah! So we went through the usual rounds of questions and answers and viewing the apartment and Skylar Blue smirked because she caught the look on my face. He left, but not after we talked about how I’ve yet to visit Tahoe and Yosemite and wine country, and he offered to go with me if I ever wanted. I will say there was some slight flirtation. Very slight. I may have been out of the game for a while, but it seems my ability to casually flirt remains intact. Score!

I pondered what I could possibly say to him about why I’m turning him down. “Hi. You’re way too cute and I’d want to jump you all the time, so I can’t live with you, unless you want to do the jumping thing all the time too, but then it’d just be bad, so no. I can’t live with you.” Doctor Long Island suggested saying, “Hey, I don’t think we’d work out as roommates, but want to grab some coffee/dinner/boobs soon?” Admittedly, I have been a bit more forward about the male sex lately; just last night, I left my number for a guy I chatted with while volunteering at a comedy show and he facebooked me before I even got home. But methinks offering my boobs to Sailor Boy (as cute as he is) may have been a bit too forward. Just a bit. Though I have offered my boobs before in the past, before I knew the suave movements of romance and subtle sex. (This would be sarcasm. For the most part.)

Roommate option #3 showed up, with his father, which I thought was a sweet touch. He kicked ass in being awesome. Where were all these normal people on Monday? They should have been spaced out more, gah! We laughed a lot, but he was super extroverted, and I hadn’t decided if I wanted to live with a guy or a girl, an introvert, or an extrovert. He also complimented my shirt (which said “Break dance, not hearts!”) while wearing a spiffy shirt himself (”Way old school,” featuring a print of the original Nintendo console.) It was clear I’d get along with him big time, but I was a bit concerned that we’d end up hanging out all the time, since we were so on the same page.

Roommate option #4 showed up while #3 was finishing up, so Skylar Blue took over the tour. (I’m telling you, these people showed up like clockwork almost; it was a beautiful thing.) I think the hardest part of roommate hunting is being the one making the decision and feeling bad because some of these people are in dire situations. Option #4 had been mugged twice in his neighborhood (cause once wasn’t enough apparently), while his roommate liked to bring random men home. All the time. Strange men, wearing no socks and cooking in your kitchen: just a bit creepy. He was sweet, and easily someone I could live with, but I liked Cat Girl and Awesome Shirt Guy better.

Spectacularly, option #5 showed up and happened to be a Long Island girl. How I knew? I saw the 516 area code. Somehow, she got misdirected downtown, showed up with two friends, and before we even really started talking, she had redesigned the entire layout of the apartment. “Oh, you could put drywall up here, rather than have these doors here, and then it really would be two separate bedrooms, and also, I have a lot of furniture, and I think your room is too small, plus I do have my cat to consider, and oh, I love to cook, and I’m here with my friends but I don’t entertain, not often at least. The hebrew letter Chai on my foot? I think it means like…peace or something.”

1) No renovations necessary.
2) You showed up with two friends to apartment-hunt? Yet you don’t “entertain?” Yeah, okay.
3) Chai? Seriously? How the fuck are you jewish and never heard the expression “L’chaim?” I can’t even hear the fucking “ch” and yet I still know what it means.
4) Hell-to-the-fuck-no.

The last girl showed up, bearing a t-shirt labeled Chicago pizza, and while she was perfectly nice, Chicago is a place I’d like to leave behind for a bit, at least without daily reminders, which I’d have to see every single day. Again, she was nice, but I want someone who I felt super comfortable with. Also, if you wear cool shirts that make me laugh, or at least have a sense of style I envy, I will probably pick you. I am lame like this.

The hardest part of making decisions is knowing that you’re going to disappoint people. I mean…who wouldn’t want to have an apartment with skylights, clawfoot bathtub, a stove from the 1940’s (maybe even the 1920’s) and all these other kooky, quirky, charming things? So many individuals expressed interest, and I was legitimately shocked because I didn’t anticipate such a turnout from people, considering I live in a college town and would be renting for the summer months while tons of other apartments were available.

After much debating and back and forth, and arguing the merits of Cat Girl and Awesome Shirt Guy (introvert vs. extrovert? Guy vs. girl? Cat vs. no cat?), I called up Cat Girl and offered her the room. Pending a few paperwork and other details, I may now have a new roommate!

I was a bit disappointed that this round wasn’t as story-worthy as the other, but at the very least, Awesome Shirt Guy recognized it as a super cool social experiment. Also, methinks if I ever get bored of the boys I know, I’m just going to do a “room for rent!” ad on Craigslist and demand pictures or facebook accounts. Ta-da! Dating made easy.

Now if only I’d hear back from Sailor Boy…

Seeing as it’s the last day of the year and all now, I suppose I should write the customary year in review. Because it really, truly has been one hell of a year. In some respects, I’m glad to see it go, but in others, I’m not. I would also like to apologize to my readers - my writing is nowhere near as stellar as it usually is, but I’ve not exactly been a mindset to work on making this blog a work of craft. Right now, I’m more of the trying to live life mindset than I am of the reflect and make a story of life mindset. I promise, I will return. I just don’t know when. Please bear with me until then.

And now - a recap!

January: I rang 2007 in with some of my best friends, from college and from high school alike. There was so much unknown, so much promise at the beginning of the year, and we were all there single - only one of us at that point was in a relationship, but there were no couples at the party, something for which I was incredibly grateful at that moment. As we stood by the window in my apartment on 1st and 19th, we heard the crowd chanting in Times Square and we cheered and hugged as we ushered in 2007. At that point, none of us knew how much would change for us in that year - all but one of us moved, and they were all significant changes in our lives.

The rest of the month was taken over by school and a failed beginning with someone who has now become a good friend and a great laughing partner. I had no way of knowing how many twists and turns my life would take in that one year alone.

February: D dropped the bombshell that I never thought I’d recover from. Pea in a Pod revealed herself to be much stronger and much more like me than I had ever realized. Our friendship was cemented by her response to the D bombshell, and our weekly dinners became a saving grace for me. Not to mention the support I received from all of my other friends when my world fell out from beneath me and I couldn’t understand why I still existed. I watched my legs move me through the days, but never quite followed how I got there.

March: More drama with D, who somehow infiltrated every aspect of my life. A spontaneous trip to Chicago with Jack of All Trades and my thesis life partner led to the beginning of my renewal. GDB followed soon thereafter and my world gets shaken up again, but this time for a connection so intense, we spend 20 hours together the first time we meet. The beginning of looking for a new apartment, and incredible apartment drama with the most passive-aggressive individual I had ever met. Luckily, I backed out before I made a commitment to living with her in Williamsburg.

April: My life is work, therapy, classes, the gym, and sometimes GDB. Therapy was part of what made me realize it was okay to not be a robot all the time. I was tired of feeling like my outside betrayed my inside, but I never quite realized that people found me cold and insensitive sometimes, because as cheery as I could be, my low expectations of life were obvious. A search for a new apartment yielded a new roommate and a lovely brownstone in Boro Park, one that I couldn’t wait to move into.

May: Apartment renovations, finals, moving, tense times with GDB, tense times with my parents moving from their home of nine years to a new one in an adult community, the beginning of wedding season ‘07, the singularly most explosive date I have ever had in my entire life - passion, anger, silliness, and intensity above all. With GDB, of course. Also - the first time D and I see each other in person and the revelation that yes. I can move on.

June: My 23rd birthday, GDB’s decision to move back to Chicago, our back and forth decisions on what to do in terms of us, because we were growing into an us, loving and living in Brooklyn once again, my roommate’s strange cat who I often fed and once had to find after the landlord’s cleaning lady let him out of the house during a rainstorm, my impulsive decision to move and quit school for a year. Thailand’s departure, nights with males who are incredibly influential and involved in my life but remain to be revealed for their true or ultimate nature. Wedding season takes over.

July: Wedding season in full force, a ridiculous PR writing class on Saturday mornings from 9-3 (killed my social life on Fridays), my very first wedding as a bridesmaid for my rwin, GDB’s departure (we said goodbye on four separate occasions - none stuck), GDB’s realization that he didn’t want to end things with me just yet, a breakdown in the bathroom at the Savage Men show in Atlantic City for my cousin’s bachelorette party because I only just realized how much I cared and wanted to be with GDB. Also - multiple job interviews for positions around the country, an offer from the literacy advocacy group that I accepted, breaking the news to my family that I was moving to California in less than a month, breaking the news to my incredible employer who gave me a second chance, after my depression made me unreliable and difficult to work with. Moving out of my apartment, in a rather memorable last hurrah with Pea in a Pod and a former coworker, a not so pleasant battle with the roommate because he had to move as well. We no longer speak.

August: A trip to Canada with friends for a Harry Potter convention (yes, I’m a geek, I admit it, but I didn’t dress up!), another wedding in which I wore blue this time for my cousin, and finally, my departure. My fears of leaving my family, my school, my friends behind manifested themselves in a ridiculous way - meanwhile, I was thrown several goodbye parties, GDB was behind me all the way, and Techny Besty and I renewed our friendship and made it impossibly stronger.

The move. A flight from Newark to Dallas, and from Dallas to Oakland before my first trip around San Francisco and being brought to the strange lady’s house. A week of searching, before a week in Utah where I met one of my closest friends in California today, and finally, the beginning of a new job. Full of hope, full of possibility, full of adventure. I had no way of knowing what was in store. Also - GDB becoming a calming and steadying force in my life. Finally being in the same time zone as Avocado again, but now being three hours behind everyone else. My watch remained on East Coast time, as it does today, so I would know what time it was at home.

September: Moving in with the family who took me in for a week to save me from the Strange Lady, finally finding an apartment of my own and furnishing it in one day through Ikea and free furniture on Craigslist. A second trip to Chicago, this time to see my friends from Israel, as well as GDB. The beginning of this blog.

October: The beginning of my realization that AmeriCorps isn’t quite right for me. Contact reestablished with D. Avocado comes to visit. My almost-mono fluke virus that bewildered me and my new doctor for a week. My growing frustration with the lack of support from the AmeriCorps community, and the first time I really miss home. The realization that I am falling in love with GDB.

November: My first attempt to quit my job. The highest highs of the year, with my friends, GDB, and the blog community now there for me. My return home, for the first time since I moved. The realization that GDB is falling in love with me, as well. Feeling on top of the world, in all aspects. Botched traveling and a layover in Chicago is changed to a layover in Denver, before becoming a direct flight back to San Francisco. Feeling like anything can happen, and I’m okay with that.

December: A week in L.A. where I was reminded of my deafness repeatedly, before I got to see my family that lives out there. GDB’s birthday, and subsequent alien attack. The first ending of our relationship. A last minute decision to fly home. Lost toiletries on my flight coming back from L.A. The realization that some people who I had never expected to be my support system had indeed become just that - questions about where it could go with them in the future. The renewal of some sort of relationship with GDB. A job offer. A job ending. Many meals out. A canceled flight and more travel chaos. Tons of family videos, traveling, last minute excursions, and not nearly enough sleep. Questions, unending certainty, and almost depression because my future has become so unclear now. There are no answers anymore. Just questions.

In a way, I’ve come full circle. But last year, when the world seemed so full of promise, when it was so bright and shiny and exciting, I feel incredibly removed from that. Now, I’m left wondering why exactly am I going back to Berkeley? There’s nothing left for me here, I’m certain on that, because I’ve never felt so dislocated in my life, but I don’t know how I will feel when I return back to California. I have no idea what’s in store for my future, and right now, I feel slightly cheated. Before, there were hints of sparkling memories in store, of a future with GDB, of impossibility becoming possible. Now, while I know the world lays at my feet, I wonder - are there too many possibilities? Are we just too accustomed to expecting everything that it makes it impossible for us to expect nothing?

I experienced my greatest relationship to date in 2007 - it may have been long distance for the last five months, but it was the most functional, the most real, and it showed me the capacity I have for loving someone else. It saddens me to know that I may not be able to do that anymore. This was the first year where I was ready to take on a stable relationship - though I did have several of my one-night encounters, as was par for the course all throughout college. I’m still great friends with most of them, but unless they were to become more than a several-night hookup, I don’t want to purse that sort of thing anymore. I realized I am so much stronger than I thought I was - I could pick up and move to a destination where I knew absolutely no one, make my way through hell and back, and still find myself walking into work to follow through on my commitment. Not to mention leaving my family behind and saying goodbye to my support network, most of whom reside somewhere on the east coast.

I wish I could say that I’m looking forward to 2008. But right now? I’m not even sure if I’m looking forward to waking up tomorrow. It’s just a hard end to what has been one hell of a year. If the last few days are any indication, I won’t wake up until at least noon. I’ll decide which one of the seven parties I’ve been invited to I want to attend (it seems impossible to me that anyone should desire my company with the current state I am in), and eventually head over.

I’ll watch the ball drop with others, drink my customary glass of champagne, send a few texts to a bunch of friends and GDB, and hope I fall asleep to a dreamless night, in anticipation of a more stable 2008. I think I’m ready for some stability in my life.

Edit: I spoke too soon. It’s 6:00 AM on New Year’s Eve, and I have not yet gone to sleep. Instead, the memories of a life I no longer have keep rushing through my head, and while I know I need to get rid of them to move onto a new year, my heart feels emptier. How can one’s heart say yes, while one’s head says no? There are so many words left unsaid, so many memories not yet experienced, and I feel broken in my uncertainty. My body doesn’t flutter right now, I’m lucky if I’ll resemble anything less than a zombie today. It seems I was in love all along - I just never knew it. Because I’ve never experienced anything this devastating.

At any rate, the new year begins in approximately 14 hours. Here’s hoping it rings in with some stability for a change.

Don’t worry. I’m still fizzing.

However, my life tends to set itself up in extreme contrasts. I was offered the job this morning at a rather prestigious University, working as an assistant to two Deans in a rather prominent and moneyed school, sleek, modern, with dark wood furniture and conference rooms and little fluorescent lighting.  Then I went to my current office, with its mica furniture, crappy chairs, fluorescent everything, painted murals by children in Richmond on the evils of gang violence, and non-profit everything. I’ll miss seeing Not-Yram and Skylar Blue every day (or whenever I actually make it down to the office and don’t “work from home,”) but I think the benefits far outweigh what I’ll be leaving behind.

I won’t miss the bitchy board member who seeks out conflict and confrontation in every e-mail.

I won’t miss my supervisor, who as nice as he can be personally, is inefficient and ineffective professionally. I let him know he needed to coordinate shifts for an event we have this week - he totally dropped the ball. I got a phone call late last night asking if I could possibly cover some shifts that he failed to get covered while I was gone, as though it was my responsibility to work while I was being reminded of my deafness by AmeriCorps. Sweet.

I won’t miss board meetings where I listen to them go in circles, ultimately going nowhere about what direction they should take, versus what direction they actually take. Is it at all ironic that the day I get offered a new job, I have to sit through a two hour board meeting?

I know my new job may not be all that. But when one of my new bosses called to offer me the job, she also mentioned what my new salary would be. It was $10,000 more than I expected. I had to ask her to repeat it, because I wasn’t sure I heard her right - you know. Because I hear so damn well. My mouth more or less dropped, and she said, “You still here?” “Oh yes. I’m still here.”

I may be able to work towards finishing my master’s here. And for free. As opposed to paying 1100 per credit at NYU. Because I do want to finish my master’s. It’s important to me. As is having a job that respects me and understands what I’m capable of.

However, only moments after I took this job, I realized. I’m not coming back to New York so fast. I thought I’d find something for only a few months and then return home, take summer classes, GDB would move back, we’d date properly, I’d graduate, possibly return back to the agency that I want to work for, etc. Now it appears that I will be here at least through the summer. I never intended to stay out in California for more than a year - I’m a New Yorker at heart. Does this mean I’m betraying my own city? Will I be leaving my skyscrapers and slushy snow behind in favor of 55 degree weather and sunny days? Will I lose my New Yorker status? When am I no longer allowed to say, “I’m from New York?”

I won’t be seeing my family as often. We’ll be relegated to the daily phone calls. GDB and I won’t be in the same place. My friends are all on the East coast, with the exception of a few that are scattered around the world.  I’ll only see them when I fly back East, unless they fly out here to see me. Even then, my apartment is so small, I can’t really adequately house everyone I’d like to host.

I won’t lie. I had a bit of a panic attack. There was furious texting with Jack of All Trades. There was the “I really need to talk to you,” text message to Avocado. GDB texted me back with, “ROCK!” when he got my text about getting the job I wanted. Then he was on gtalk when I got back to my office. I messaged him immediately. We talked about the job, the pay, the benefits, and what it all means.

Somehow, it came up that he decided not to move back to New York - that he’ll stay in Chicago, where the cost of living is cheaper and he can make more money. “Besides,” he said, “you’re staying in California indefinitely now, so what would be the point?” It hit me then. He’s thinking about us and a future. He’s not worrying how we’re going to make it work, just trusting that one day, we will be in the same place again. It surprises me that he is so forward thinking, but perhaps I shouldn’t be so hesitant to think that he’s aware that I might be it, just as much as he might be it for me.

So maybe I will be out here for several months longer than I anticipated. But I won’t be making less than ten thousand a year anymore. I’ll be able to pay off all my bills, my rent, buy food, and still have money left over to start saving. Because yes. I want to start saving. I want to pay off graduate school. I want to be able to move back to New York, or maybe Chicago, and have the ability to get my own place or move forward with my life. But there will be plane rides. There will be visits. There will be enjoying more of life now that I can afford to go out and splurge every once in a while.

I have to laugh a bit though. During my interview, I was asked, “Would you consider staying for a year or two?” I told the panel, “If there’s any one thing I’ve learned, it’s that everything changes. There’s no point in making plans because it’s all going to change anyway. It’s just a matter of being able to go with the flow.”

Well. Here’s my river. And I’m flowing.

I was going to write a whole long post here, but instead I’ll write this.

I JUST GOT OFFERED A NEW JOB!!!!!!!! NO MORE ASSHOLE BOARD MEMBER AND AWFUL AWFUL SUPERVISION AND BULLSHIT!!!!!! NO MORE AMERICORPS TRAINING SESSIONS WHERE I GET TREATED CRAPPILY!!!! YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! More later.

*is fizzing excitedly into stardust*

If you haven’t been following, I had a training conference thing in LA. It’s been one hell of a trip - between the not sleeping, driving for lots of hours, lots of hotel rooms, stupid speakers, accidentally flooding the bathroom while I showered (leaving me without any dry pajama pants or shorts to wear to bed - don’t do that), tripping into half walls, making friends with the hotel staff and getting a huge thing of popcorn and all sorts of free things, and more. I’ve met some cool people, and surprisingly, I got hit on more or less.

I don’t get it. But I knew it was going to happen. He started talking to me at the bar on Tuesday night. I made small talk then zoomed off to my table to eat. We’d wave and nod as we saw each other on Wednesday. And then today, as I sat on a half-wall trying to warm up from the below-zero conference rooms, he walked into his room and I knew he was going to walk back out to talk to me. Don’t ask me how. I just knew.

Yep. Sure enough, he walks over to me and we make small talk about surfing, beaches, Los Angeles, New York, NYU, law school, how bullshit the whole thing was, etc. And then he asked for my contact information. I gave it to him - why not? I’m not looking for another guy to be involved with, but I do enjoy new friends.

However, to be fair, there was a bit of a tense moment last night. Where GDB and I were discussing the state of our non-relationship, and he seemed to think I could read his mind. I asked him if he thought he could ever do the whole L-word thing with me, and he said “Fucking absolutely.” However, it was quite an experience trying to figure out what exactly he thought we were doing.

After frustrating back and forth where he said I knew how he felt about the situation, I finally told him, “Dude. You seem to assume that I assume that you feel this way about me, but I’ve made too many mistakes in the past from assuming, so now you have to spell things out. You know - when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

GDB: Bah.

Me: That’s a sheep noise.

Him: Nope. I’m a ram.

Me: You’re an obstinate ass is what you are.

Him: *bows* As are you, m’lady.

The man’s got a point. So much so, that my displeasure with how I was treated throughout the conference manifested itself in the final evaluation. I may have felt defeated yesterday, but my fighting spirit was back in full force today.

To the communications speaker, I wrote:

For a lecture on communication, INCREDIBLY ineffective - irrelevant, tangential, ignorant, unaware of individuals with certain needs. Myself or my fellow Vista could have done a better job.

To the overall staff who reminded me at every turn how they would not accommodate me remotely, with the exception of a few wonderful individuals:

I’ve never been made to feel so aware of my disability in my life. When I specified my needs, I was told various conflicting things, ignored, berated, and just plain treated rudely. I have always self-advocated for myself, and I just gave up after a while. I would have gotten much more from this training had there been more empathy and understanding. For an organization that claims to respect all, you’re sure fraught with hypocrisy. Thank you for attempting (and almost succeeding) in making me feel pointless.

I may not always feel kickass but when it comes to expressing my anger in words, you betcha I can get it going there. And on that note, I’m stepping down and passing out because I think my brain is addled with non-sleep and too much good food. Real posts to come soon.

I had to attend a seminar today on communications and marketing.

You know. Cause I’ve never done PR, marketing, or communication materials in my life. Or I’m not pursuing a master’s in something that requires all three of those things rather extensively. Nope. Complete novice. (In case you can”t tell, the sarcasm is dripping like ice cream on a cone on a sweltering day in July.)

Educate me! Enlighten me! And during group discussions? When there are 30 people talking at once? Trying to read all those lips and follow the discourse as it jumps around the room doesn’t give me brain freeze at all (hold the slushie.) So there are no pounding headaches - why would there be? That’s just ridiculous, ds. Stop making things up.

Also, my understanding of how communication works is severely limited. Because I can’t hear, therefore I can’t communicate, and I clearly know nothing about how communication works. I’m a novice there too. For example: Did you know communication is visual, verbal, and vocal? And actually, visual communication comprises 57% of how we understand one another? (Or in my case, 99%? And the other 1% is body language?)

I learned this as the speaker turned her back to me once again, spoke in a voice that was nowhere near as loud as it should be, and went on and on and on about how important communication was. You know. So I could clearly read her lips, understand her, and communicate effectively.

Later on, she told a story about being empowered and non-offensive.

Me: I’m empowered!

Not-Yram: Yes, but you’re offensive.

Me: Oh. Good point.

Other girl at our table that I only just met: I could be a total bitch right now and tell her that she’s sucking at communicating right now. Especially after you told her you’re deaf.

Me: I could too. But that requires caring.

Other girl at our table: I bet we could take her. But she scares me. She’s big. And she looks like she’s scrappy. The earrings’ll come off and we’ll go down.

Random guy at our table: Want me to take her down? I’d be happy to do it for you. I bet if the four of us rush her together, we could take her down. Then we could do all the other conference speakers too!

Me: See! We’re communicating! Effectively!

This conference is fraught with irony.

A step by step in the life of a disgruntled DS in Los Angeles. Where I will be till Sunday.

1. Monday: After a terribly horrific day with count TWO! JOB! INTERVIEWS! plus job of hell refusing to die, despite the death threats I shoot at the computer and think in my head, come home, realize I have to run to the library, the video store, and also, find dinner somewhere. Somewhere in the midst of this, I decide it’s time to take a Scrabulous break and play until my brain stops melting into fizzy stardust.

Pack, knowing I have no idea what on earth I am packing - bathing suit? Bras? Pajamas? Earrings? Clothes to go out with? I hope so! Ah! Catch a train to Skylar Blue’s apartment (she’s a fellow Vista but she actually likes her job) in Oakland, where I proceed to crossword puzzle to make my brain shut off and fall asleep in a sleeping bag on her floor. Yes. I like sleeping on the floor.

2. Tuesday, 2:47 AM: Wake up. Time to go! Hop into backseat of small red Chevy Aveo and promptly pass back out.

3. Tuesday, 5:30 AM: Pull into a McDonald’s. Decide to put jeans on and stealthily maneuver the taking off of the pajama pants and the putting on of the jeans under a green peacoat in broaching daylight. Success! Buy skittles, apple juice, and special K, and hit the road. My turn to drive!

4. Arrive in LA at 9:30 AM, after about six and a half hours of driving. I am apparently a backseat driver. Note to self - must stop with the backseat driving.  Check into hotel. They say “Welcome! You are rooming with J. Lee in room 706!”

Me: Huh? But I’m supposed to room with Not-Yram.

Not-Yram: Huh?

Them: Your roommate is J. Lee.

Me: But…that’s not…Not-Yram.

Them: Oh. Well that’s who you’re rooming with. Enjoy!

Me: But…I need Not-Yram to wake me up in the case of a fire so I don’t die.

Them: Work it out with your roommate when she gets here.

Me: She’s not here?

Them: Not yet.

Me: Okay.

Not-Yram and I figure it out with her roommate that Not-Yram will move into my room and J. Lee will move into Not-Yram’s old room (322). We unpack. Skylar Blue comes up and there is much entertaining talk of hair in butts, dildos, more.

Not-Yram comments at one point that when she first started masturbating, she thought she was possessed by the devil because she was doing things against what Catholicism teaches, but it was too good to stop. I fall over laughing more or less.  Among all the other times I fall over.

5. Attend activities. Enjoy our room. Shower. Eat good food. Go to bullshit training seminars about how to be more effective at our jobs (remember job of death? Hi. Not interested in being more effective) and mostly write notes.

Speaker (paraphrased): To use a metaphor, if the tree you’re trying to cut down isn’t working, you just need to sharpen your ax!

Me: No. In my case, it’s not the ax. I need a whole new tree.

Also:

Speaker: How many of you would love to be hired by your jobs after completing the year in service? *many hands wave* How many of you thought when you heard that, “No way!” *ds’ hand shoots up in the air faster than a whistling gun.*

6. Go to gym with Not-Yram. I think she has the card to our room. She thinks I have the card to our room. Guess who get locked out!

We get a new room card, and it doesn’t work. When we knock on the door, someone who is not J. Lee, but instead is A. Mal-something answers. I ask how she ended up in the room. She says she got switched around and put into our room and she doesn’t want to switch again. It has now been confirmed that somewhere around 79% of the conference attendees have switched rooms because AmeriCorps fucked up and managed to screw everyone out of their room assignments.

Not-Yram and I offer to fix it for her - to put A. Mal-something into Not-Yram’s old room, like we planned to do with J. Lee, but when we go to the desk, there seems to be another issue. Apparently, I have been switched out of room 706 and put into 322, after having been told I must get proper confirmation from J. Lee to do things.  They were supposed to move J. Lee out, but wouldn’t let us do that till she checked in - instead, they moved me without telling me! They have now moved A. Mal-something around as well as me, and we don’t actually know where J. Lee is. We arrive to 322, expecting it to be empty.

Surprise! Not-Yram’s new roommate is still in there. They never told her she was moved too. So we now have to find a place for her, this damn J. Lee is still not there, we’ve moved out of 706 (which was gorgeous! And had a balcony! And two beds! And a luxurious bathroom! And multiple sinks! And views of all the planes coming into LAX!) to 322. Where everything is short and limited and designed for people with mobile disabilities. There’s a sense of irony in there that because I needed to room with Not-Yram for my disability, I ended up in the room OF disability wonder. Strobe light alarm, check. Assistive pole in the shower, check. Lowered sinks, closet rods, and cabinets, check.

After moving Not-Yram’s roommate and leaving A. Mal-something alone in our beautiful room, we finally settle into our room, lovely 322. How on earth all this happened, without any notification whatsoever - whaaaaatttt. So I am completely bezummbled and not sure what’s going on but I now have a room and am sharing a bed with Not-Yram instead of having our own individual beds and we can take showers with a pole. Sex-ay!

7. That be it. I can’t think. I would one day like to travel without complications. Alas. Not today. Anyhow, I cannot also comment properly on other people’s blogs. But happy Chanukah! (Also - how fucked up - they planned this conference during Chanukah, stating that there were too many conflicts and this week worked best for them. Skylar Blue says next year, she fully expects the conference to be booked for the 24th and 25th of December.)

8. Also. Thanks for the kind words on GDB. And hearing. And my general insanity.

I leave with words of love, and also, if you know any good Scrabble words, please let me know so I can kick the asses of many men. *cartwheels out.*

Dear Bachelor of Arts degree,

I thought I’d be using you. Especially when I took this job to promote literacy in underserved communities. I am so good at creating, developing, and executing flawless programs that receive tremendous positive feedback. I am a strong writer and a stronger thinker. I’m a good team player, but I know when to step up and take the reins when I need to. But I’m afraid I’ve failed you. I work a grand total of about two days a week and spend the rest “working” from home, playing online, or reading and watching DVDs at work. I send out a lot of e-mails. I am excellent at e-mails. In fact, if there was an award for e-mail writing, I do think I’d be in the running for first prize.

My brain? May be turning moldy from its lack of use. In fact, if it weren’t for this blog, I think I’d never have anything insightful or new to think because it’s so sorely underused. All those papers and books I read and that incredibly long but worthwhile thesis that I wrote? Where is that going? All those organizations I ran, the events I put together, the accolades I received? That’s not me anymore.

I’m sorry I failed you.

ds.

____________________________________________________________________

Dear Master of Arts degree in progress,

I suck. I know I suck. I suck so much that apparently, a freaking retail job at a prominent bookseller won’t even offer me a full-time job. Just a part-time job at base pay. Never mind the SIX years of retail experience I have and kicking ass at it. Or the B.A. that I have. Or the M.A. that I almost have.

The sixty grand I’ve spent thus far towards receiving you? Out the window. I’ve already reconciled myself with the fact that I have no idea how I’m ever going to pay you off - maybe I should just quit while I’m ahead, even though I only have a freaking 15 credits left? Why don’t they tell you before you start graduate school that a B.A. means nothing anymore and an M.A. means nothing anymore because you can’t even get any more entry level jobs unless you have three years of being an administrative assistant? How does anyone get anywhere in this world?

I’m sorry I failed you too.

ds.

____________________________________________________________________

Dear job that I currently hate,

Please stop making me feel guilty because you aren’t worthy of my affection or what little it is that I have left of my brain. You used me as your scapegoat; you didn’t like me when I came as I am and you didn’t like me when I became what you wanted me to become. And now you’re trying to overhaul your entire work plan to “accommodate” me? And asking me to sleep on my decision? As though I haven’t been debating about this for a month? As though I haven’t been stressing out about this for a month? As though it doesn’t kill me that every time my parents call or my grandparents call or ANYONE IN MY FAMILY calls that I have to lie and pretend I love my job and that I’m happy and I don’t regret this decision because otherwise, I’d have to listen to them tell me how they were right and I was wrong and how I should just move back home because the West Coast is clearly not for me, I’m a New York girl through and through, and besides, aren’t there so many more jobs available to someone with your degree?

I’ve slept on it. I want out. And still you make me sit through meetings where we talk about how this can possibly work out for all of us, ignoring my thoughts and feelings of “I DON’T FIT HERE. IT’S NOT WORKING.” When are you going to listen?

I didn’t fail you. You failed me.

ds.

I should have known back when my doctor thought I might have mono and I wasn’t completely devastated at the prospect of packing up and moving back home after fighting so hard to move across country in the first place.

I should have known when my boss told me that the board finds me aggressive and opinionated and guilty of pushing an agenda and asked me to wait for him to specifically give me instructions, despite them hiring me because I am a self-starter and motivated individual. I’ve never been called aggressive in the past for any of the many things I’ve been involved with, nor have my opinions ever colored my performance. I am proud of my ability to be objective and rational.

I should have realized when I went on a job interview with a rather prominent bookstore and ended up speaking with a woman who I’ve talked to in the past for my job about fundraisers, book drives, and book donations, when she told me I was the only nice person she’s met from the organization I work for. That she’s always found them to be pushy and aggressive and perfectly rude and how refreshing it was to have me come along, but she didn’t understand how I got involved with them.

I should have realized when I tabulated the survey results for a community event where peope received free books and paraphernalia from the organization, yet still had no idea who they were and what they did. Nor did they really care, unless they were given free books.

For an organization that claims to promote literacy, their most effective programs are a summer reading program that was established this past year, a calendar, and lots of book giveaways. There’s very little hands-on contact with the community. There’s very little in the way of scoring how they are effectively resolving the issue of literacy in the community. You can give books away, but what good does it do when a 12 year old can barely read a book written for a second grader?

I made a mistake. I believed that they truly wanted to make a difference and renew a passion and love for literature in children to help deter violence. I am an intellectual - I won’t deny that. I’m guilty of constantly thinking of how things could be different, how I can make a difference, of overanalyzing everything to death, of being more logical than emotional. However, I have incredible passion for literature. I moved out here with a box and a half of books that I couldn’t live without (after telling myself I would only allow one box of books - that’s all.) There are more in my parents’ garage in New Jersey, but I couldn’t justify bringing more than what I already had.

Since the days of visiting my local library and getting special permission to take out 30 or 40 books a week and going out for matzoh ball soup and a brisket sandwich at my favorite Jewish deli with my dad and sister in Brooklyn to now, I’ve never stopped loving books. I’m not one of those readers who gets engrossed in a book and feels it happening to them. There’s always a safe distance - where I can marvel at the ideas and thoughts and happenstances of the characters and sometimes think how amazing these worlds are that an author conceives, or how grateful I am that we’re in a different time and a different place than projected. But I fall for every single one of them, with admiration and respect. I loved the feel of a fresh printed manuscript or partial and sitting down in a comfortable, oversized armchair at the agency I used to work for, and thinking “Maybe this will be the next big thing.”

It hurts to know that I have become the scapegoat for when someone’s ideas don’t go the right way. It hurts even more that my boss won’t even stand up for me when someone berates me for doing something he specifically asked me to do. It hurts to hear that people find me aggressive when I’ve only done the things I’ve been asked to do. I’m bothered when I try explaining to him how I don’t feel supported and how there’s an extreme level of unprofessionalism taking place, and he tells me I’m responding to the things he said last week and how I’m going through a low point and not to lose heart.

I’ve lost heart. I won’t ever lose heart for literature. Or encouraging kids to read. It’s what I’ve been doing for the last three years, between college and grad school and now. But I can’t go down to the office anymore and pretend to feel great passion for an organization that seems so resistant to really making major changes. They have the potential. I believed in them - I had to, or I would have never moved out here in the first place.

When I told my mom what I was doing, she said “Don’t you realize? This is how they get people to do their grunt work without having to pay them.” I told her she was wrong, that I would be creating programs, that I would be empowering kids in communities that are riddled with violence and a lack of education through literature, that I would be making changes. “Sure, there are some days I’ll be in the office. But I’ll be raising money, I’ll be putting together programs, I’ll be meeting with board members.” She was right. They don’t need me. They need a puppet office clerk.

Yet I feel as though I am betraying them, despite their plan to not move forward on anything until after the new year, leaving me with virtually nothing to do but count books. I apply for jobs online and make phone calls and it feels sneaky, deceitful, and underhanded. I have to go to a program tonight for other AmeriCorps employees tonight and smile and be happy and excited for the future, when I am 85% sure that I will never see most of them again. I’m looking into jobs that are beneath me intellectually, that make me feel as though I’ve wasted my college degree and my almost-complete master’s degree. Yet there’s a sense of comfort to them, because they’re retail, and I know what I’m doing and I’m good at retail, despite how much I hate hate hate retail. I’m not ready to move back to New York yet, even though professionally, it makes more sense. Because it’s where all the publishing jobs are and I may have a job offer waiting for me when I do return home.

I hate that I’ve been put in this position and have so little guidance as to where to turn next. I hate that I will never be one of those people who can easily accept things and instead, must constantly question everything. I’m disappointed at how far off the mark I was when I accepted this job with giddiness and excitement. Someone said “The grass always looks greener on the other side,” but I can’t justify making $5.00 an hour for a job I hate. I could if I had passion for the job, but that’s burnt out, leaving me with remorse and sadness that I couldn’t be that person to impact change in an organization that could do so much.

Sometimes, what you think might be your dream job turns out to be anything but.

Most people on the East Coast are asleep now, and it’s not something I’m used to yet. I’ve been here two months, and I’m not used to being one of the few people online at the end of the night. However, today has been a contemplative sort of day, where thoughts jumble in my mind and spike up at the most unexpected moments. It’s involved me having lengthy entertaining conversations of the philosophical sort on AIM, reading a book in its entirety, and more or less taking myself out of the real world. I haven’t exchanged words with a single person in California today, and I love it.

I discovered that my penchant for red grapes, but white wine, and complete aversion to raisins (they make me throw up) only highlight my contradictory nature. I chose to be candid in my statements with friends and let them into what my thought process has been. I thought about how October has been a bad month for me for the last three years. Last year, it was when my hyposomnia started, where I resorted to Tylenol PM to get through the night because I hated the idea of taking anything heavier and growing dependent. I have severe issues with dependency, as you can see - I not only fear it, I loathe it.

I was indulged in my bike humor, which I greatly appreciate. For the record, it’s still spending nights at my office. But that’s not where I am today. I finished reading a fourth installment of a series that I’ve come to adore over the last few years, and the protagonist is a college graduate looking for answers, hoping they’ll be given to her rather than having to develop her own. She gravitates towards something that has always provided the answers to her in the past, before being asked a tremendous question by that very same source. It’s only when she talks to the most unlikely sources of comfort that she gets a better sense of what she wants, but she still wishes for a clear-cut direction. I’m beginning to learn there are no clear cut answers - we just need to choose the lesser of two evils.

A few days ago, I got told some pretty harsh stuff from my boss. Things like, “We’re not sure how things are working out right now with you,” among other things. It hurt to hear that I moved across the country to do this and was now being asked to take a less proactive role; to wait for someone to give me something to do. I wanted to make a difference, change the world, be the idealistic 20-something we all have inside us at some point. As it is, my days consist of making one or two phone calls, sending out a few e-mails, maybe doing some research that takes all of an hour, and then idling away while reading blogs and chatting with friends online. It seems that the board is uncomfortable with me finding projects to occupy my time. Incidentally, the bitchy board member from a few weeks ago told my boss that she thinks she may have overreacted because I remind her of her daughter, and they’re going through issues. While it was nice to get a semi-apology, it still made me feel like I made the wrong decision.

I began questioning my motives, as I’ve been doing the last few weeks, and wondering if maybe I’m being feckless and irresponsible by choosing a job where I make barely enough to pay my rent and the bills, especially if I am generating so much controversy right now. As of now, I still don’t know. I’m willing to give it a shot, but not if it means I end up feeling useless and unhappy. I don’t think there’s ever a good enough reason to stay in a place that doesn’t make you happy.

I also had to decide whether or not I was ready to take my relationship with Gymnast-Drummer Boy to another level. We remain content in our unofficial official status, and a situation arose that would have contested what the limitations of our non-relationship is. I wasn’t ready to start asking those questions. In the past, I would have had other boys on hand to call when something wasn’t going right with the one I was with. It was never cheating, as the relationship was never official, but it was one way of keeping my feelings protected behind the wall that was raised years ago. I had the choice of having a friend visit, which would have been very clearly more than friends behavior, or not pushing the boundaries and seeing where things continue to grow. I chose to try the more “mature” thing and just deal with the feelings straight on without the complications of adding another relationship to the mix. GDB didn’t let me down. He continues to make me laugh, answers my pointless, meandering questions, tells me little inane details of his life that make me feel that I am getting to know him even better, and makes me feel like I am wanted, even when he is 1500 miles away.

What is it about where we are in our lives right now? It seems anything can change overnight, as I’ve learned in the past, but we’re so resistant to change. When we create expectations, they only get knocked down and it hurts that much more because we didn’t see it coming. I got the chance to talk to Techny Besty and Avocado simultaneously tonight (a hilarious and comforting exchange because we know each other so well, the jabs and teasing comments flew) and it occurred to me that we hadn’t been in the same place for at least a year. I honestly can’t remember the last time we all saw each other, and we realized that we may not see each other next until someone has a wedding. I never really thought about what happens when you graduate. People move away, try new things, fall in love, and so on. It makes me feel as though I missed a few steps on the ladder and while I watch people my age experience these things, I’m still scrambling for support that won’t come from the smooth siding. I don’t envy their happiness or success - I know it’ll come to me someday. It just amazes me how so many people find themselves so sure of the answers while I can’t get much further than deciding to have french toast for breakfast.

All in due time, I suppose.