Senior thrift.

Dante Beatrix New York Shark Starfish Backpack

I traveled to the coast today with my two favorite girls (they're hairy and somewhat stupid....Oh! and canine), and I discovered a senior center/thrift store. Whoa. What an idea. I left the dogs in the car. They were pretty tired from all the bird chasing at that point (to date, they have been chasing birds and ducks for years, and have never caught a single one), and lay like floppy babies in the back seat.

This was a "Thrift and Gift", so some things were pricier than others, but the back room was filled with bridge tables (or some other foursome card game) and the customers just walked around them to check out the merch. None of them moved or payed attention to us shoppers. They just kept playin' and chattin'.

What an idea! A thrift store and community center is a great way to combine things that go really well together. The seniors were laid back and unbothered by people in their space, and most thrift store shoppers are okay with chaos. It uses the space well, as a thrift store might not get a ton of traffic. It gives the group a project to work on. All in all, a great combo.

Kudos to you, Cayucos Seniors Gift 'N Thrift.

Wasteland.

Joanne Sibley watercolor print - She often paints the Caribbean area.

Wasteland (Almega Projects, 2010), a documentary largely conceptualized by artist Vik Muniz, is about trash and landfills in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It's interesting in many ways because of Rio's focus on general cleansing (e.g. running gangs out of the slums) as they prepare for the 2016 Olympic Games. The documentary focuses on the people who work and survive on the landfills, recycling all of that which can be recycled (as Rio has no separate recycling pick-up services), and even using the food to feed themselves (in very impressive, and non-disgusting ways, I will add).

This film sat on my Netflix queue for ages, as it seemed like something I would like (i.e. it was about trash, and my fantasy destination: landfills!), but I never got to it. Every time I considered it, I felt depressed, and found something funny to do instead.

Eventually, I watched it. It was that moment, when you've been waiting to do something for ages, but just waiting for the right moment. And it was beautiful, full of real human experience and emotion, and the deep raw-ness of working with trash, of being trash, and what that means to a person's soul. It's a beautiful film, both emotionally and aesthetically. Philosophically, it brings the hidden secret world into view, and exposes it for the truth it truly brings to the world and the human experience: those who live off the landfill are the most beautiful people you can find.

I don't know if the experience of these filmmakers could be recreated across the world in other landfill worker colonies, but I'm glad that they took the time to really see the people they researched. They made something beautiful in a dirty, ugly place. They found beauty that was already there.

Hug a veteran :)

A Charles Schultz ode to veterans on Armistice Day (11/11)

There was a purple station wagon in the parking lot when I pulled up to one of my favorite thrift stores this afternoon. It was dotted with silver-toned ephemera, lots of crosses. I got to meet the owner at the cash register, and I'm really glad I did. Turns out he was a POW in Vietnam, and the purple on the car matched the purple heart license plate. He was also covered in silver-toned ephemera, with a Western-style outfit and pristine cowboy boots. He said that he never sleeps, so he makes jewelry and decorates his car. It's his thing. I assume it keeps him alive.

This article reports that one US veteran suicides approximately every hour (average of 22 a day, higher than previous calculations). 'Purple Car Man' reminded me of how important it is for people to have something that they find joy in, that keeps them busy, helps them to find meaning, etc. Of course it's never that simple, but it's a big thing. It keeps blood flowing in important areas of the brain, encourages human contact, maybe even increases the input of sunshine.

I can imagine that when people come home from war, minor hobby-ish things seem incidental, perhaps even silly and a waste of time. But unfortunately, this way of thinking keeps the trauma of war close at all times, increasing paranoia, and disconnectedness.

Thought of the day: Hug a veteran :)

Recycled bubble wrap :)

A reselling blogger sells these all the time - I have been less successful

So a part of being "The Recycling Ethic" is in trying to use recycled materials as much as possible. I'm pretty picky about what I buy for shipping, because I'm constantly using shipping materials, and so this is the area I have the most potential for creating waste (or lack thereof). So I buy recycled labels and envelopes. I use all kraft tape, no plastic tape. Blah, blah, blah. I'm so awesome.

For a while, I've been buying bubble wrap from someone across the country who recycles large bubble wrap. I don't know where the product originates, but it comes taped together with masking tape, so it even looks recycled. But recently, I found a new recycled bubble wrap seller on eBay, and it's only a few hours away from me (a couple hundred miles), so I don't have to wait as long for it to arrive. Somehow the seller saves this pristine bubble wrap from a large-scale furniture company, and resells it (at what appears to be a zero profit margin) to continue the waste-reduction cycle.

Anyhow, we're kindred spirits, this bubble wrap recycler and I. And though we are small, insignificant eBay sellers who sell trash on the internets, I believe that our awesomeness will somehow surreptitiously seep into our packages, and influence our customers, who will then continue the cycle, and on and on.

I've been wanting to buy this stamp for ages, but it seems too decadent. It does need to be said, however, since I'm expecting that my customers are kindred spirits. I shouldn't assume though. I should make it clear that in addition to the recycled product you are purchasing, I also want to invite you to participate by reusing the packaging.

All for now :)

Poor and marginal

The test of courage comes when we are in the minority.  The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.

 ~Ralph W. Sockman

I was really surprised by some of the comments I got about my landlording posts last week. I admit, I was not very organized in my thinking, and that may have made me come across as judgmental, and I don't like that. I want to affirm that people make mistakes and are not perfect. We are all human, and we all see things a bit askew from how they actually are (perhaps how God sees them). And our skewed views are okay to have. I think the problem comes when we aren't willing to extend a little grace to ourselves and perhaps admit that we might be wrong.

I think it's more important to be flawed and fallible than it is to know everything. I think it's more important to admit being wrong, and maybe not knowing everything, than it is to hold to one's convictions so as to never admit defeat or vulnerability.

I was raised with material possessions. If I made the choice, even today, I could go back to that life. I am poor because I choose to be. And of course, that has become more difficult than I expected it to be, but it's also better than I ever expected it could be. I left a life of plenty, because there was no love, no real unconditional love, and if I have to be poor and marginal for the rest of my life in order to be loved for who I really am, then I will work my darndest to be okay with that.

Peace out mofos :)

Some ideas on landlording, Part 3

Political stalemate?! Ah, the good old days ;)

I probably should have done a good introduction about why this issue relates to my blog, but it's a blog, and we just aren't that organized around here :)

The church is important to me. I wish it weren't, because it makes me even weirder than I already was, but it's just how it is, so I guess I have to deal with it. Honestly, it just makes me less attractive to the single (i.e. unattached) members of the opposite sex. That's really the only reason I feel weird about it lately. I don't want to be marginal.

I think that the church is to be God in the world, that the church is the way that God is humanly present in the world. The church has no walls, or even labels. The church is not Christian, or Muslim. The church is within each of us that affirm the humanity of God, that choose to allow God to work through us to love others, something we are not always humanly able to do (I'm choosing my words carefully here, seminary peeps).

So on that note, the church needs to be active in the world! We need to be solving problems, helping people lead happier, healthier lives, and generally extending grace and peace all over the place.

So currently, I think that involves being a better landlord. I'm a practical girl.

Some ideas on landlording, Part 2

It's so funny to see old headlines; they could be today's :)

So since I live in the Disneyland of foreclosures, buying a house is super difficult. Houses go up for sale, and typically come down just as quickly. In my neighborhood, with huge gorgeous homes, when they don't sell, the price just drops...and drops...and drops. Seriously. It's really sad. On one corner, a "For Sale" sign keeps getting tagged. I flip off the invisible taggers in my head every time I see it. I hate tagging. It makes me so angry. I also hate trash on the road. Dude, this is your neighborhood too! But I digress.

I've begun to wonder what motivation a person could possibly have to rent property to other persons, other than to make money. And if houses are hard to buy, even though mortgages are cheaper than rent (!), renters can then get stuck in bad situations with no way out. Landlords have no motivation to make different choices, to adequately care for the property, regardless of whether these are individuals or larger corporations, unless some outside entity decides to give them some. I think that there should be some sort of license that people are required to achieve and maintain in order to rent out property. The license would demonstrate that the individual(s) is able, willing, and knowledgeable enough to care for the property at a basic level, and has shown him or herself capable of maintaining the property over time.

We need more public shaming. We need more people willing to say, "Dude, check yourself. The way you're treating your renters is dehumanizing." Seriously, renters get screwed. They have no power, and those with power have no motivation to change negative behaviors. So I don't know who I'm talking to, but if you have an idea, let me know. I'm just ranting here for my own benefit. I do love the sound of my own voice.

Some ideas on landlording, Part 1

I found a bunch of old Atlantic Monthlys last week.

My neighborhood is not always a pretty place. There are lovely homes, and well-kept yards on one street, but move over a couple streets, or even a few miles away, and you'll see homes with yards look more like mini-landfills than yards. I don't think that these homes are lived in by the homeowners. I imagine, due to the nature of the neighborhood, that they are rentals.

Are there laws that require landowners, or home-owners, to keep their property clean? Do cities spend more time faulting renters for the state of the property than they do the owners? In my city, a few years ago, the police attempted to create better neighborhoods by fining people who had property with major blight. The campaign ended quickly when the neighborhoods rebelled against the police, and owners were cited as problem-makers who bought property, raised rent, and never cared for the property itself, but law enforcement did nothing. A lot of the homes were Section-8, which was a problem on its own because the owners were abusing the system and neglecting the property. Many owners lived out of state, or were "property managers" with no personal ethic to care for the property.

I once lived in a lovely apartment complex (and it was a decent-sized complex), where there was an on-site manager who lived on-site, and the owner came regularly to deal with maintenance and landscaping issues. I always felt very cared for. It was old, but it was not neglected.

How do the powerless affect change in the powerful? Stay tuned for Part 2.

I love it when I'm wrong.

Vintage Van Eli Shoes - Aren't they fun?

On the walk home this afternoon, in 102 degree heat, I saw a bird struggling in the gutter. I spent a few minutes trying to figure out how to help the poor thing, then noticed that his tail was broken. I always hear that the worst thing a person can do is touch a wild bird, so I used some nearby brush to help the bird into the shade, hoping perhaps that a few degrees might help the bird to suffer less. The bird wasn't having it. He wanted to stay in the gutter.

A young man was watching me, and pulled out a headphone to talk to me. I said, "He's gonna die. I just wanted to help him die in the shade." This man understood - he showed me empathy! He looked like a gangsta (a completely normal look in my neighborhood), and my gut reaction was that this guy was not going to understand my need to save the bird. But he did! He really did, and now I'm reminded of how much goodness is in the world, and how a lot of the bad-ness is caused by our assumptions and false beliefs.

I wonder what the world would look like if we all believed that everyone was a friend. Is that what Jesus meant when he said, "Love your neighbor as yourself", that we always assume the best in others?

Little productivity :(

Handmade Wedding Gift - 65 Years in Storage :)

So yesterday wasn't as productive as I would have liked. I got stuck in my brain, and wherever I was, it wasn't conducive to a productive day. I haven't come close to my $1000 goal to pay for the car debacle, and when I spoke to the shop this morning, they said it was taking longer than they'd predicted. Does that mean that they will charge me more? Only time will tell.

This morning will be my second car-borrowing in 24 hours. It's really difficult for me to ask for help, even when I am asking people who I trust. I guess what goes through my mind is, "I don't want to annoy this person." I really hate the idea that I annoy anyone. I don't know if I need to get over that. It may not be doing me any favors.

Gotta run. Talk soon.

What I won't buy

I buy food from discard food stores that look like they should be shut down. This includes vitamins, coffee, tampons (which I've recently given up completely), and cereal.

I always buy used shoes and clothing. I recently bought a new container of baby powder. I buy bras, but not in bad condition, and I NEVER buy underwear. I really went through it a couple years back trying to figure out how to solve the "underwear in thrift stores" problem, but to no avail.

I buy swimsuits that do not appear to be used. I buy stuffed animals very rarely if they're vintage. Most of the thrift stores I go to are very happy to test items, or mark them as tested, so I would have no problem buying blenders or food processors.

Now I'm on a roll.

Rugs can be cleaned. Comforters can be cleaned. Let's reuse instead of buying new!

Also, I'm a big fan of cleaning products that don't hurt the earth, but clean the stuff I get at thrift stores, because I get a lot of stuff that needs cleaning, and it isn't worth the purchase if it can't be reused effectively, or if it's going to gross someone out or make someone sick.

My comment on a recent post from Thrift Core

Oh man, after I wrote this, I reread it, and realized how marginal I am. I love who I am, but in some ways, I worry about exposing these parts of myself to other people. I don't want people to be disgusted by me. But I also am very passionate about figuring out ways to use what is already available. I'm all about the dumpster diving, but I only do it for boxes, because I have an image to maintain for my real job and all. Also, I have an autoimmune disease, and I don't like to mess around with that. But I completely support it, and think everyone should do it.

Ingrate.

A mug depicting Picasso's 1954 bullfighting poster

You know when your friends are the biggest jerks in the world, and you feel like such a martyr, but also an awesome person because you forgive them and continue to love them? Yeah, that's you being an asshole, and by you, I mean me. Because it feels like shit on the other side, to be that friend who is a humungous jerk, who didn't do it on purpose, who felt completely justified in the moment. Oh man, I'm remembering all those times I felt like a pious martyr, bestowing grace upon my poor ingrate friends who couldn't hold it together long enough to treat me well.

Well, it doesn't feel so great on the other side. It feels really scary, scary because your friend might decide that enough is enough and call it quits, or they might treat you as you deserve to be treated, like the asshole that you are. Or they might just be the bigger person, and forgive you. Man, life is hard, and not at all black-and-white. It takes work to not throw people away.

My Spanish vocabulary words for the week are pundejo (asshole) and junta or reunion (meeting). I have been working really hard at watching seasons of Weeds to learn Spanish, and listening to people talk to one another in thrift stores.

Mira, Mama, mira!

Survive the best you can.

Don't you just wanna feed it bugs?

Doo-bee-doo-bee-doo. What a day. It began with a night of terrible insomnia, followed by interactions with the police after I found my friend's home had been broken into overnight. What a day -- not one I'd like to repeat anytime soon. My friend's already antsy, loud, and annoying dog was on point today, yelping all over the house, letting me know that something was terribly, terribly wrong. And it was.

Why do people steal from their neighbors? Why do people steal at all? My experience last year with a home robbery was traumatic in a way, and I don't ever want to experience anything like it again. But seeing the drawers opened all over the house reminded me that bad things happen to good people, and there are no warnings to the crap that happens to us sometimes.

All I want to do is help people survive the crap they get dealt. But when I see the perpetrators damage in front of me, tangible evidence, I feel a little loss of hope. Then this afternoon, I came home in the middle of a gang territorial confrontation on the corner by my house. It feels like there is no hope, like this is life, and all we can do is survive the best we can.

Single and in need

Oil + vinegar + seasonings = Homemade dressing

Are you married, or partnered? Is there a single (i.e. unmarried) person in your life that you love to love? If not, get one, and soon. The fate of single-kind rests in your hands. We are weak and unorganized. We tend to gather in groups, but real unity doesn't always stick. We need more stable entities to ground us, hold us to a neighborhood, a home. We need people who will stay even when that staying is not a civil agreement marked by the courts.

I don't know when I first started adopting families. I was probably about fifteen or so. I needed something that my own environment wasn't providing, and I looked far and wide for something boring to latch onto. I found that stable boring wonderful something in my best friend and her parents, who sat down every night at 9pm to have dinner together. I was always welcomed warmly, though I never had anything to give beyond my strong dish-washing abilities ;) Those moments helped me stay grounded in a chaotic world, and have served as a template for other families and other dinners.

Tonight, I shared one such dinner. We discussed pink slime and my current employment status. Many strawberries were eaten, and I had an extra helping of salad. It was wonderful because it was shared. I don't sit at home and cry when I eat dinner by myself. I enjoy silence quite a lot, and often long for it during the chaos of the day. But there are times, usually Saturday nights, when all I want is a family to eat dinner with. So thanks to all of my family friends, who welcome me warmly into their homes no matter what I'm wearing, or how much I monopolize the conversation.

A challenging task

 

I am not feeling so great about myself right now. I feel like people are judging me for having a masters degree and not having a solid plan for my life. And these aren't imaginary people - these are people I love! So I'm sitting here trying to convince myself that somehow it's more important to be myself than it is to be who other people expect me to be, even when those people are the people I love most in the world. That's a challenging task.

In school, I had a teacher who scared me, and no matter how much time I spent with this person, I never felt truly accepted. I felt small, and insignificant; not enough. As time went by, I realized that even though I respected this person more than I respected myself, I had to let go of the need to be accepted by them. In order to maintain my own sanity, I had to throw away the idea that my identity somehow hinged on their perception of me, even though that perception was super important to how I saw myself as a person and professional.

So now to be faced with that same dilemma in any form is only a stiff reminder of how important it is to love myself first. I will crumble if I allow an imagined perception of someone else's judgement to determine who I am, even though my faith tells me that other people are more important than me.

Money is nothing.

Vintage Tupperware measuring cups

If we have chosen the position in life in which we can most of all work for mankind, no burdens can bow us down, because they are sacrifices for the benefit of all; then we shall experience no petty, limited, selfish joy, but our happiness will belong to millions, our deeds will live on quietly but perpetually at work, and over our ashes will be shed the hot tears of noble people.

~ Karl Marx

Too busy to care

My idea of Hell is to be young again.

- Marge Piercy

As I get older, I find that life is never what I expect it to be. It is always more difficult. It is always more complicated. This past week, I have found myself at an end I've never experienced before, some sort of emotional place I didn't know existed, where life can be physically exhausting, and still continue. I can be more tired than I've ever been before, but still go to work, and still be good at my job.

Everyone is limited. We are human. But to choose to live in that imperfect humanness, accepting all of one's faults and limitations, allows us to be who we were truly meant to be. For me, that means that I am less able to be "on" than other people I know. I have less energy to give than other people I know. And every effort I make to fight that reality just puts me further behind.

Today, I didn't go to church. I felt guilty. There are things I need to take care of, and people expecting me to take care of those things. But I only have what I have. I can only give what I am able to give. The past few weeks have opened me up to a new reality of understanding what people mean when they say that the older they get, the less they care about what other people think. Older people also say that they like themselves more than they did when they were younger.

It's way better being a grown-up.

My heart is in the jungle.

 

For a moment today, I had an intense rush of longing for the jungle. I longed for simplicity, and candles, and the river. I saw my own bare feet, and the emptiness of the day. I saw myself alone, and it was lovely. To think of it makes my heart ache. To think more makes me want to cry. I left my heart in the jungle, but I really don't know why.

"Here we come rejoicing"

There's a small out-of-the-way thrift store downtown that I go to pretty often. I don't know if I've talked about it before. The thrift store supports a deep-seated ministry in the city. I don't quite understand what the ministry itself does, though I've been shopping there for years. There have been signs on the wall saying that some money helps kids go to camp, but I don't think I've seen those signs lately.

It's my secret spot. I always find good stuff. Oftentimes, I have to spend a lot of time cleaning my purchase(s), but it's usually worth it.

Anyhoo, there's a lovely woman who works there, and she enjoys listening to children's bible tapes. A couple months ago, children were singing Old Testament passages from the Torah. Today, they were singing songs about Jesus. I told her how much I enjoyed the music. I bitch and moan about Christian music overkill in thrift stores, but I'm beginning to appreciate the nostagia of it. Today, as those children were singing, I was thinking about my childhood, and this album. I've been trying to find some audio, but have been unsuccessful.

Throw away government?

 

Election season makes me crazy. Living in the US means that it's pretty much always election season. Somehow it's the norm for everyone to put their energy into candidates, instead of their communities. Millions of dollars are spent by individuals who believe that their candidate will make their life better. But what has government ever done for you? Has it given you a hug when you were tired and sad? Did it make you a sandwich when you were hungry? Did it give you a place to live when you were homeless? Or did it mostly just flap its gums telling you to pay attention to it?

How about this election season, you make a conscious choice to invest in your community, so that next time election season rolls around, you care less about who might get elected, and more about what you're doing to bring positive change in your community.