Does failing make you a failure?

Original Framed Oil on Canvas Painting

Today I am considering the idea that failing does not inherently make me a failure. I'm a person who wants to make everything right, do everything well. I don't consider myself a perfectionist. I am capable of letting little things go, and not agonizing over little trifles, but in the great land of "Being an Adult", I am finding that these skills only need to be amplified, strengthened, continually over time. It's not like a plateau we reach, where everything after that is straight ahead without potholes.

Perhaps I never would have identified this as a characteristic in myself, but I have been acting as though I'm finished as a person, that everything should be perfect now that I'm a fully functioning adult. I've been living in an imperfect body, with an imperfect mind, and wearing clothing that is imperfect, even selling things that are imperfect. Yet I have been expecting more from myself than I expect from anyone, or anything, else.

Now I'm going to sit in a pile of my own imperfection and hope it melds with my thrifty self. See you later :)

I sell damaged things.

Vintage magazine advertisement - love those togas :)

Over the past two years of my very short reselling career, I have received some pretty nasty messages from strangers. In the beginning, I may have cried, and now I find them comical. I have the power, I remind myself, the power to block.

I sell damaged things because I am not an expert in everything, but I am a finder of cool things. I like to be a conduit to other thrift-lovers, those who lose to upcycle and rehabilitate. I like being somewhere in the middle of the pack. I occasionally fix things, sew up little holes, but for the most part, I list things as they are.

The Salvation Army stores in my city sell mattresses. They take donations of old mattresses and strip out all of the schtuff away from the skeleton of the mattress, then refill it with new schtuff (foam? fluffiness?) and sell them for low thrift store prices in like-new condition. Another store in town just takes the mattresses apart, but they don't sell the mattresses, so I figure they like being middle-people too, like me, just a cog in the larger wheel of thrift.

Where do you fall in the thrift spectrum? Are you primarily a donater? Shopper? EBayer? How do you find your identity in the pretty-freakin'-large recycling world?

I prevent erosion.

Don't you want to know more about geothermal energy?

Compost is awesome. I speak from experience.

About a year ago, we had a gas leak on our property. Holes were dug. Large machines had to be used. It was an unfortunate mess for our backyard. And some of the holes still remain today. Well, there are small children around, and these holes make me think that we are always one day away from a sprained, or worse, broken, ankle (I myself have sprained my ankle a couple times, and do not want to hobble anywhere any time soon). So I've ceased to wait for the holes to magically disappear, and decided that I will fill them myself, with the dirt that I, wonderful dirt-maker-me, have created.

I swear, the dirt we create not only keeps schtuff out of landfills, but I'm also convinced that it will help prevent erosion, and thus, the dreaded sinkhole.

Go make some. 

I fix things.

Vintage GE Mist-Condition Hairsetter

So in the past year or so, I have fixed the following: my toaster oven, a blender, an aquarium, and a very fancy coffee maker. I believe that in some way, I broke all of them. And when they broke, every single time, I had an absolute freak out. Then I decided to fix them, because what the hell else could I do?

Fixing appliances is a lot less scary than some people think (or maybe a lot of people are like me and enjoy fixing things - I dunno). I'm a clumsy mess sometimes, so am left with the reality that this clumsiness will continually end in some kind of mess.

But in the end, nothing is unfixable. Injuries heal, appliances can be repaired, relationships can be rekindled, and diseases, well, those raw foodies have something to say about that. Perhaps if we admitted to ourselves that things will break, we'd be more open to doing the dirty job of fixing them, sewing up those socks, filling in those holes in the wall, going to see a therapist. Maybe if we acknowledged that we ourselves are all broken, we'd be more okay with the brokenness of other people, and the inevitable brokenness of the world.

The full moon :)

Aren't these pictures funny and weird?

Tonight, after yoga, I stood by the bread factory in my short shorts, yoga mat in hand, watching the train go by under a full moon, and cried. And the train kept going, and going, and I knew I needed it to pass before I could cross the tracks to go home anyway, so I just stood there and got out as much as I could.

I'm okay. I can be big and loud sometimes, and that includes being sad, but I'm okay. People always think that I'm worse off than I am. The funny thing is, when it was really bad, several years ago, very few people saw me in my total life-stops-completely grief. Now I just cry and watch the train, then go home and make dinner, and do it all again tomorrow. I'm really doing well, and sometimes I have long, difficult days, but that doesn't change how I feel on the inside about myself.

Anyhow, having a job where you help people makes you have to constantly remind yourself that you are powerless to change other people. Sometimes I just have to say that to myself (I'm always talking to myself), and the fog lifts, my furrowed brows lift, and the world is right again.

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.

Grad plans #1

My outfit plan for graduation:

1. Orange linen dress from Salvation Army, altered from a long dress (for a less tall person) to a mid-knee dress, perfect for moi. I got the thumbs-up from the seamstress when I tried it on. She was super sweet. I love that I found a good eco-friendly dry cleaner next to a good shoe repair shop. An extra plus? There's a post office there too :)
2. Pearl earrings, a gift from my friends who traveled to India my first year at the seminary. They need to be fixed so I can wear them.
3. Turquoise beaded sandals, thrifted a few months ago when it was definitely not sandal weather. They're so awesome, I can't stand it.
4. My new red ring! I sold some Frye boots, so I had enough money to cover it. I didn't expect to do it before graduation, but then I got antsy when I found exactly what I wanted.
5. I'd like to have my hair done up. It's still pretty short, but I think that if I have enough bobby bins, I'll be fine. Here is something that resembles the look I'm going for. I don't know if I can make it work, but I'm gonna try.

I needed to make a plan to orient myself to a time of celebration. Now I need to figure out how to have a party, even though I'm not really a party girl. How can I incorporate recycling into a fun-for-all soiree?

Coffee filters don't degrade quickly.

 

I have begun transferring dirt from the rotting pile to the dirt pile. I have a cement double sink outside and I use it to compost my crap. The coffee filters are ridiculous, but everything else seems to decompose pretty quickly. I'm going to have to start using the dirt for something, but I'm not much of a gardener. I'm more of a dirt lover, a maker of mud pies and the like. I don't know. I guess I just feel like it's a guaranteed failure. I kill plants, so I figure I'll just keep things from dying and never try.

If you know something is going to fail, is there really any sense in trying? I started an MA program 4.5 years ago, and it was clear from the beginning that I was not going to make it. I fell apart so often that I lived in an almost constant suicidal depression. I was in over my head before I even knew what was happening, and I was a pretty smart cookie. I grasped at anything and everything, used sex to cope, and in a kind of broken-down delusional state, was still left with an intangible determination.

Now here I am, all these years later, and I am a different person. Few people got to see the transition-it was ugly and I remember little of it. But I know that it happened, because I am alive. Somehow, in the end, I got composted. And like non-food products, I was pretty tough to break down.

Cigarette smoke = yuck

You've put me in a quandary, Jack Donaghy. A quandary.

Tracy Jordan

The past couple weeks, I have been the unwitting purchaser of cigarette smokey clothing and shoes. I am far more likely to smell things that are old, rather than items that are new or newer. I ended up buying five (!) pairs of cigarette smokey pants and one pair of very expensive french boots. I was able to wash the smell out of the pants, but I felt weird about the whole business. I am all for full disclosure, but I really don't like having to include the phrase: "When this item was purchased, it smelled like cigarette smoke."

I guess I'm adding sticking-my-face-in-pants to my regular thrifting ritual. It was not worth the time for those pants, but I didn't want to lose money, so I went through the effort of cleaning them, and in the end, it was no big deal. I don't know what I'm going to do with the boots yet. They're leather, and I've cleaned them with saddle soap, but that did nothing for the smell. I'm considering getting them professionally cleaned, but I don't know if it's worth it on my end to do that. But who would buy them if I didn't?

Maybe I was wrong

So, I came home today and fixed my sink and my toaster oven. I didn't think it was possible, but I did it. I am so proud of myself. In the course of fixing the oven, I was only electrocuted once. I say that's a success.

Over the weekend, as I work on my senior paper (again), I will be trying to not overdo it as much as I did last weekend. There will be more cuddling and less crazy-banging-my-head-against-a-wall and losing lots of sleep.

Stay tuned for scenes from my weekend of house-sitting with the sweetest dogs ever, the reason I have come to adore pit bulls.

Peace out mofos.

Failing at fixing

 

I keep trying to fix things and then my life only gets worse. My sink gets clogged from the broccoli I had for dinner, but then I can take all the pipes apart and clean them, right? Wrong, because then I don't put the pipes back together and now it's leaking. My toaster oven's button breaks, so I bought a new button, and now I'm overloading the circuit. What the heck.

SO basically, my whole life has fallen into the toilet over these two things, because that oven made my life okay. I got into this little apartment with no kitchen, but I had an oven, so I felt like a person. Now I don't have an oven. You see what's happening? I imagine that I can fix things, but then nothing gets fixed. I even put the time in. So now I'm tired, and feeling like a failure. Does this mean I have to buy a new toaster oven? Does this mean that I'm not a person who will ever be able to really fix anything? I would like to just find out now so I don't spend the rest of my life failing at fixing.