I have no title.

DIY sidewalk chalk is particularly amazing :)

I love this store in Oakland that is dedicated to the ethic of reuse. They cater to teachers and artists, people who might benefit from supplies en masse. I like to buy a lot of envelopes when I'm there, stickers, pins. I've never bought as much as I want though, because I have to carry it all around the city.

I would love to start a store like this in my city, a non-profit dedicated to reducing waste and encouraging reuse in creative ways. There was a composting bicycle service for a few years that also had a worm farm, but for some reason they couldn't sustain it (time, energy, manpower), and they went away.

I wish that I could do it all, compost all the restaurant waste, create a place where people could recycle crayons and hang with like-minded thrifty people. I wish I had my own store. But the rummage sale made me think otherwise. It made me think that I don't have the emotional acuity particular to running/operating a thrift establishment. Or maybe I do, but I would definitely need a partner. I have a friend that I could work with every day and not hate it, but I'd have to import her.

btw, today has not been awesome, but I'm getting into Parks & Rec, so yeah.

Thrift store conversations.

You can be a mommy, beauty queen, cowgirl, artist, nurse...

Two female thrift store employees, one seasoned (always acting like a know-it-all), one a newbie (with Megan's internal monologue).

Seasoned: So you're in school?

Newbie: Yeah, I'm going to [local community college].

Seasoned: What's your major?

Newbie: Oh well, I dunno. I'm really not sure what I'm doing. What's your major?

Seasoned: Oh! Psychology. I love it. Dear God no!!!

Newbie: Oh! I want to look into that. No no no no no no no!!!

Seasoned: Oh, it's great. You should take a couple classes and see what you think. Um, no, you should choose a major that will get you an actual paying job so you can pay off your loans.

Newbie: Yeah, but what jobs can you even get with a degree in psychology? None, run away now. Get a degree in engineering. Math classes, physics, etc. Do it. Do it now.

Seasoned: Oh! So many. You can be a psych tech in a hospital. Um, no one does that in California dear. Or you can do research, or you can, well, there are a lot of things you can do. I'm going to be a counselor, like in a school.

Newbie: Oh, how long do you go to school for that? Um, a really long time. And you'll go into a lot of debt, honey. Get an employable degree.

Seasoned: Oh, you can get a masters degree, but you don't have to. Um, yes you do. In order to be employed, you absolutely do.

At this point, Megan has to leave, as to avoid getting into a conversation with twenty-year-olds wherein she acts like a crazy person, eavesdropping and interrupting. Crazy moment averted. Score.

Regroup, keep movin'...*

Vintage I. Magnin Pottery - Pretty neat, huh?

I am currently sitting in a whole house, looking onto a rain-spattered patio, two needy poodles by my side, French Toast and coffee in my belly, and listening to talk radio, ensuring that my extreme liberalism is mediated a bit by the other side.

What is it about me and the fall that makes me such a mess? What is it about me that makes me such a mess? At this time last year, I was working through my final year of grad school, and it felt like agony. It felt neverending, like every day was scheduled to the minute, and I had no room to move. This is different. This is emotional exhaustion, and I'm going to sit in this chair until I figure out what to do about it.

How did this happen? Well, it was a confluence of events, really: I haven't been doing so well on reaching my goal of no more freak-outs and no more chasing men (I know - I'm sorry), and I'm dirt poor and constantly worrying about money and blaming myself for my own choice to work in a field that will never help me leave the garage, and I'm in a weird spot where my support system has changed pretty drastically and I'm still trying to restructure and rebuild.

And then there is the reality of being a grown-up, that relationships are difficult, work is everyday, and sometimes low blood sugar becomes life threatening. Sometimes I want to scream at my friends who don't see that the answers are right in front of them, but right now I'm on the other side, unsure that there are any answers or solutions to what are really pretty small problems that I have allowed to overwhelm me.

I don't believe in "God's lessons" or that somehow I'm in a complicated play where in the end, I will be wiser because everything has worked out perfectly for the best. I believe in choice, and human nature, and this morning I am really, really stuck.

I'm taking some time off from life, gonna regroup, try to make sense of it all. Peace out :)

*The title is part of a lyric from a math album I sang on in elementary school. The full lyric goes, Regroup, keep movin', don't let the numbers get you down. Classic.

How long do I stay?

I tried to find some other reference to this topic in the archives, but I couldn't. I think it's something I've talked about with other people, but haven't discussed here. It's, eh, a vulnerable topic.

I didn't think I'd live in one place this long. I figured I'd be back in South America, or somewhere far more romantic and inspiring. But I've been here for five years, and my feet are firmly planted on solid nutrient-rich ground.

But then I think, is this what I want, for good? Do I want everything to stay the same, stay grounded in one place, of course not stuck, but committed?

It's not the most awesome city in the world, but it's my home, and my life is here. So many people that I love are here. The people in my everyday life are here. My thrift stores are here. The dogs I love are here. Whole Foods is here. My job is here, a job I love, with people I love, and each day filled with meaning and purpose.

But maybe I'd give it all up. Maybe I'd love something more than all that. Maybe.

Is this the bottom?

I went to teppanyaki last night with coworkers for an end-of-the-year celebration. The place was packed, on a Tuesday, in an otherwise boring strip mall. It seemed odd to me. Good, even great (economy-wise), but odd nonetheless.

Last week, I went to my bank, and a young man was hiding outside, unseen from the security guards, selling M&Ms. He asked me if I wanted any (It was 102 degrees). I said "sorry". And it was in that moment that I thought, "this must be the bottom". People ask for money on cardboard signs on every corner, young people without shopping carts. Adults selling candy outside banks. Suddenly, I was transported to Peru, where children sell candy on the streets, and on the buses, where each car is accosted at every stop light, with people selling their wares, trying their best to survive.

But in happier news, my generic chocolate sandwich cookies have reappeared on their store's shelf, and I eagerly shared my joy with the first employee who seemed like she might care. And she did. It was a wonderful moment.

Helga.

My parents have a cleaning lady. She is disorganized and is constantly misplacing important things. The conversation goes, "Oh no! Helga will be here in 15 minutes. Hide your stuff!" Seriously, it's ridiculous. I have told them a dozen times that they need to let her go, that she isn't doing a good job, and they shouldn't be paying someone to do such a terrible job. Yet she remains.

I just spoke with my mom, and the issue of Helga came up. She is up to her same old shenanigans (though she is not Irish), and I think I'm now reconciled to this reality. She cleans the house. She does a bad job, but she does it, and they need the help. They both work constantly, and need someone to come in regularly to make sure that they don't get buried beneath student papers.

This woman is unemployable in any other situation. It's a gift to allow her to be herself and not demand that she change who she is, or become a person different from who she is (Don't even get me started on how she doesn't bring her own cleaning products). Anyhow, the moral of the story is to allow people to be who they are. I don't exactly believe it in this instance, but I do appreciate the fact that my parents are far less judgmental and stingy than I am.