Doggie dog dogs :)

Vintage Boxer Framed Signed O.E. LARSEN Lithograph

All I want to do right now is eat cookies. Lots and lots of cookies. I prefer that they have milk chocolate. I'm kinda off the dark chocolate train right now. I love those peanut butter blossoms with milk chocolate Hershey kisses - those are amazing. I will eat them with milk. Right now I have soy milk. I like soy milk.

Vintage Painted Ceramic Whippet Figurine

Dogs also make me very happy. I think they make other people very happy too, so I often buy vintage dog stuff for my shop. Just think of how it feels when you see a dog's smiling face pointed in your direction. There are a lot of dogs in my life. When I'm feeling sad, no one makes me happy quite like a dog. Last night it was a skittish little chihuahua wearing a bow tie and a fleece sweater watching me make cookies. Ah, bliss.

I have nothing to say. I have nothing to write about that feels right to me. My store keeps going and my life keeps going, but I don't have anything to say. I will go running tonight though. That might feel good.

Bah!

Current list of things I am tearing my hair out about:

1. On hold for 30+ minutes with student loan company who has the audacity to have one loan, while the other company has seven. Seriously? Yes.
2. Lost my hard drive last night. It died. It decided that life was over and it died. It didn't have a long illness, or struggle desperately to stay alive. It just up and died. And this is why I was at the mall on January 2nd, the last place I ever want to be. The only reason I'm ever there is to go to the Mac store, all for the privilege of feeling like an idiot.

This is why I ate banana pancakes with powdered sugar for lunch at 2pm. This is also why I am going to go make myself a cup of coffee, and drink it whilst listening to the loan guy drone on and on about forbearance, and income blah blah blah. Nevermind. I'll call back later.

Coffee time. Peace out.

I guess it's 9/11.

I work with people who are hurting, and oftentimes within that hurt are questions of forgiveness. What is forgiveness? How does a person forgive? What does forgiveness mean? And I never answer those questions for another person, because those are deep questions about faith and belief, and it's incredibly important for a person to be able to make decisions about forgiveness autonomously, without the interests of other people getting in the way.

Larger issues of peace are incredibly complex. Forgiveness and peace may be inextricably linked, but how one goes about finding peace is also a deeply personal issue. Sometimes we get very sidetracked with blame, and wanting answers. Sometimes there are no answers. Sometimes life sucks and we just have to keep going.

In Bikram last night, the teacher (or supreme yogi, or whatever they're called) reminded us that Bikram helps us to find stillness, or forces us to be still. All I know is that at the end of the class, I want to jump up and run out the door. I want the hot to go away. I want to breathe cool air. But I heed those words (because what am I there for if I don't listen?), and I lie as still as I can, for as long as I can (probably less than the recommended three minutes), before I hurry to test my sugar and get some fresher air.

When I lived in the jungle, I had few moments of cool crisp air to breathe. When I came off the plane, I thought I would die. It felt like an oven (it was the equator, after all). And my body suffered in the heat, and my soul suffered with loneliness, but I survived. Sometimes all we can do is survive, and hope that God really is there and real, or else none of it means anything anyway and there is no point.

So breathe the hot air, because it's all you have. Be mad if you want, because it won't make the hot air go away. I like to be mad at God. God can handle it.

My writing career

I just finished reading a memoir by Jennifer Lehr, Ill-equipped for a Life of Sex, and am stuck in a moment wondering if I'll ever have a book in me. I desperately want to write a memoir, but I don't know what I'd write about (i.e. which topic, among many, I would even choose), and I don't have the motivation to write one. I write a lot, but it's mostly just messy complaining combined with trying to figure out the crazy mixed-up mind that I have. There are no stories in me save the stories of my own life. There are no vibrant characters I'm longing to bring out, just me.

But where do I begin to tell stories that involve other people? Where do I begin to tell stories that are, and always will be, unfinished? And how do I do those things, and keep doing my job(s), and paying the bills which I always seem to be behind on? And who will read it?

Olympic Swimming :)

French Lead Crystal Goblets - Pompadour Pattern

I am having so much trouble watching the Olympics. It makes me really sad. I had to have a talk with myself this afternoon to get over the disappointment. I had to figure out why I was sad.

When I was a kid, let's see, over the past almost 30 years, I have seen many Olympic games. It was always a beloved thing in my family, and every four years, we sat together and enjoyed the solidarity and beauty of the games. As an adolescent, my swim coach brought a television to the pool and we'd watch in between sets. National-level swimming got me through high school, in a way. The idea of somehow rising to that level kept me motivated to train for years on end. The Olympics were like some far-off dream of all that swimming was meant to be. They inspired me to think big, even when those who believed in me most told me I'd never measure up.

And I didn't. I was a mediocre swimmer at best. I was the hardest worker in the pool, and certainly formidable as a high school swimmer in a small country pond, but as a year-round club swimmer, I was always in the middle of the pack, usually on the slower end. The Olympics make me sad because they represent the idea that we each have greatness inside of us, that we each have the capacity to be "The Best" at some thing. But now that I'm an adult, and my competitive swimming days are done (and I'm glad about that), I don't know how I'm gonna find greatness in my life. I don't know how I'm going to prove to myself that I'm good enough. I thought those letters after my name would help, but they really don't.

I imagine that at the end of the day, gold medals aren't that awesome anyway for those who win them. I imagine that they feel amazing for a while, as well they should, but then life goes quickly back to normal, and the winner still has to face their own humanity. That's how life seems to work out for me anyway.

There was a time, a moment in time, that I was crazy fast (crazy stupid fast). And when that moment passed, I was done swimming. I proved to myself that I had it in me, and then I was done. I got out of that pool, and never looked back. So when I have moments like this, like I'm having right now, wishing my life had turned out differently, I remember that moment, and it's all worth it.

Black-and-White Thinking

I have not been able to find information on the artist :(

Last summer, almost a year ago, I decided that I had enough oomph in me to tell an ex that I'd been in love with him for a very long time. I'd never told him because it seemed so silly. As time had passed, from teens to twenties, it became more crazy a thought. Then suddenly, one Saturday afternoon in July, I had a chance, and I took it.

Boy did I ever take it. When I got him in front of me, I dumped a decade of thinking on him in a single evening. All of the things I never thought I could say, I said. Suddenly, I had no shame. Those years were behind me; there was no future between us. I figured I would live in the moment and do the thing I thought I'd never be able to do. Except he didn't leave. He stayed and listened. He was kind. And that's where everything went wrong. He told me we could be friends. I told him I could never be his friend - that was the whole point - and then the next day wanted a response. I poured my heart out! I wanted a response! We disagreed vehemently, and that was it. We didn't speak again.

It took me a year (I had to finish graduate school, after all) before I realized what I'd done, that I'd thrown away a relationship just because it didn't fit the mold I wanted it to. I wasn't mad at myself. I understood why I'd done it. I was scared, so very scared, and it was the bravest thing I'd ever done. But the year between then and now was a huge year of emotional growth for me, and suddenly I had more oomph left in me. I called him a couple weeks ago and said I was ready to be friends.

So now I'm trying, in spite of my emotional limitations, to be a friend to someone who I didn't think I could ever feel friendly towards. But somehow my capacity for patience has increased dramatically, and I'm recognizing that relationships can be tricky suckers, and that my black-and-white thinking has kept me from being with people I love. So it's worth the not-knowing. It's worth the gray areas, I think, not because it's easy for me. It's never easy. But I wanted something so much, I think I was willing to let go of my stubbornness. I want to be a person who has good with people, who doesn't have broken relationships all over the place. So, as it often does, this means that I have to let go of unrealistic expectations and go with the flow a little more.

Phew. Life is hard work, folks.

eBay customer rant

Stop eating people's old French fries, pigeon. Have some self respect! Don't you know you can fly?

~ Tracy Jordan (30 Rock)

I receive offers weekly where potential buyers literally beg me to sell them an item for a particular price. Now, I have a "Best Offer" feature on most of my listings, and I welcome offers, but I hate these interactions. Each of them is more insulting than the last. I reject them all, regardless of the amount. I am not your savior! You will not die if you don't have these shoes, or these hair clips. It is not my responsibility (as a stranger!) to take care of you. Do you go to the grocery store and beg the checkers to sell you groceries for less than the asking price? Is begging via eBay really your bottom? Do you need to debase yourself to feel worthy? Seriously, if that's all you've got, that's all you've got, but own it already! Be who you are without apology.

Rant over. Peace out.

Makin' things work

Vintage knit suit from Vivanti for Neiman Marcus

So after the car blow up yesterday morning, I went to town on listing my vintage clothing inventory. There really wasn't a ton of it, but it takes more time, blah, blah, blah...I complain about it too much. I am working diligently, listing everything I have. I reduced some big ticket items, hoping they'd sell faster, and now I'm just trying to be calm and not think about it too much.

I called my veggie oil friend, and he said he'd do some research, see if the car is sellable, and what I could do to make that happen. He said I might be able to get $2000 for it, and even though that's what I paid initially, it feels like such a small number now. I know that I don't have a lot, but what I do have is quite a lot of wonderful people in my life, and that's really all that matters to me.

Today I will be doing the same thing I did yesterday, taking a lot of photographs and listing a lot of my inventory. It will be a good day. I'm currently going through books, and enjoying the wonderful selection that I have. Perhaps I will share some with you tomorrow when I have some photos.

Operation "Sell Car"

I just returned from the shop. It's my engine mounts, and front axle. $1000. I know I've said this before, but I am done. I am so done. I need a new car, like today.

Operation "Sell VW" commences today.

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.

Feelings of lost-ness

Handmade Hmong quilted wall hanging

There is a deep melancholy that comes with graduating. My bachelors degree came and went, and I don't quite recall what I did afterwards. I kept my three jobs, and enjoyed quality book time and wandering the aisles at the public library. I think I mostly just lost myself in a terrible relationship that all started with a black string bikini and a Winnebago. I started training for an Ironman triathlon, and got diagnosed with diabetes and epilepsy.

Graduating didn't make my life fall apart, but it gave me less structure to cope when life did fall apart. I think I've created a significant structure now that will help to alleviate some of that lost-ness that I experienced eight years ago. Mostly I need to ride out the weirdness. Maybe I'll also go to the beach a couple times.

Online Dating #1 of ?

If I dress like this, maybe life would be better.

I'm sorry to say it, but I've begun the process of online dating. I began about 36 hours ago, and I'm already reconsidering my decision. Who do I think I am? Someone who could possibly be attractive to other people, namely one other person? I can barely remain attractive to myself. I feel like listing all of the reasons that I'm undateable. Shall we?

Remember to pronounce the two 'u's separately.

1. My apartment is a mess, like no-one-should-come-in-here-ever. I don't remember when I changed my sheets last, or vacuumed. There are holes in the walls that I said I would fill months ago.
2. I have a job I can't be completely honest about (i.e. I'm a CIA spy. That's what you thought, right?).
3. I have a weird diet that makes me seem like a fascist, and in some ways, I feel like one.
4. I have life-long chronic conditions for which I will always need treatment.

Okay, this is boring. If the worst things about me are that I'm messy and don't eat animal products, I think I'll give it another day or so.

It's too bad I'm not urban.

I am so enjoying my tiny little apartment. It's really too bad that it's not ideal for a long-term solution. The space itself is okay, but not having a kitchen is clearly a problem, as is being connected to someone else's garage. I'm starting to dream about a tiny little place of my own, but I think that a small place in a good location would be difficult to find. I think that there are a lot of mother-in-law places on my street, but I don't know if that would be a good long-term solution either. I want something that I can stay in. I want to have enough space for my stuff, and a little wiggle room, but not too much. I like to feel cozy.

I used to have a one bedroom place. It was a duplex. Later I lived in a studio which was also a duplex. I preferred the one bedroom. It was small, but very well organized. My kitchen was large enough to cook, and I had a washer and dry hooked up in there as well. The trouble with that place was that the landlords were ridiculous about the lawn, but refused to put in sprinklers. So in the end, it was a battle over me not wanting to water crab grass in 110 degree weather, and them wanting the crab grass to be green. I'd come home to a threatening hose on my front porch as a warning. Ridiculous.

I have a lot to say about landlords, and some things I've been thinking about in terms of ethics and city planning. Perhaps tomorrow...

Cheers!

Universal health care is for commies.

 

Megan: "I would like to refill a prescription."

Pharmacy: "Oh, that seems like a normal request. Let us take care of that for you."

Insurance Company: "We do not believe that this person requires this prescription."

Pharmacy: "Oh, okay...Hey, Megan, the insurance company won't cover the prescription you've been receiving for the past ten years. They need more information about the status of your need for this prescription."

Megan: "It's for test strips, you know, for my chronic diabetes. I get them all the freakin' time."

Pharmacy: "We'll have to get back to you. In the meantime, try not to die."

The lure of decluttering

My apartment is a mess. I signed up to do a flea market in April, but it's the same day as the Mennonite Central Committee Annual Relief Sale, which is an unmissable event, so I think I'm going to have to decline the flea market.

I hate it when that happens. I have to decline one awesome thing in the interest of another awesome thing. What a huge bummer. Now I have no hope for the end of the clutter.

There aren't flea markets in my area worth selling at, so I'd have to travel if I was really motivated. I'm not motivated enough to travel right now, but I might be in six months or so. When traveling becomes involved, I almost wonder if I would be better off with a partner of some sort, or a buddy. But then again, who would I want to spend that kind of time with? Not many people. And since my friends all have their own stuff going on, it's not very likely that I'll be able to find a sidekick. Or maybe, I need a boyfriend who worships at my feet, and has nothing else going on in his life (I just shuddered at that thought-yuck).

Normalizing differences

I'm too smart for my own good sometimes. Sometimes my intelligence leads me to be judgmental and impatient with other people, instead of compassionate and understanding. I was the clumsy, daydreaming kid who didn't have common sense. Now I treat children in some of the same ways that I was treated. Well, I don't treat them that way, but I do get annoyed in my head, and have to work extra hard to be patient.

So all in all, I'm not failing. But my difficulty in this area reminds me to slow down, and think about the situation from the child's perspective. What must it feel like to not know how to do something in the presence of an adult? That must be so scary, and shameful. How could a kid admit that they don't understand if the adult understands everything? I need to remember to foster a culture where asking for help is normalized and being wrong, or "failing" is not indicative of a person's core worth.

Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate

 

This recent post by Katy over at "The Non-Consumer Advocate" got some heated responses, so much so that she shut down commentary on the post.

I myself have been the recipient of some pretty nasty online communication. It hurts when people are rude because they can be, instead of assuming the best and perhaps beginning some dialogue about their "negative" feelings. I think that people on Katy's blog were generally able to say how they felt, and the conversation was cordial and honest.

I talk about online manners a lot because I work online. Very, very rarely do I get to meet a customer face-to-face, or a reader for that matter, and I have learned time and again how important it is to be literal in one's communication, and kind above all else. Sometimes, it is even appropriate to anticipate problems and address them before they happen.

I admit that this week, I did not respond well to an online overreaction. I was curt and annoyed when someone took offense at something that was in-no-way meant to be offensive. But in the end, I am only reminded that I am also human, and often fail. Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate.

Did you know I love dogs?

I saved a dog's life this week. It was a big black Labrador, late at night. He was standing in the middle of a dark street. I was also walking a black lab, which was strange, so I let them sniff eachother. Then the male dog ran into the street and got hit by a car.

I screamed. The dog walked away like nothing had happened, but the sound of the impact convinced me that he had some sort of internal injuries. I figured if I left him behind on the canal, he'd run into the street again and get killed (he insisted on running in front of the cars-so scary), so I hooked him to my leash and tried to walk the two beasts together. That lasted less than a minute, so I just hollered at him every time he went near the street and he walked home with us. It was awful. Walking one beast is enough of a job. Worrying about the other dog just made my heart race faster. I was exhausted when I got them both home in one piece.

The dog slept with me, so as only to keep him from being shot by an exasperated neighbor in the backyard after he howled with sorrow from 12 to 5am. I didn't get much sleep, between the howling, and the sleeping with a beast. But it was all worth it. In the morning, my mom called animal control and thirty minutes later, the owner was at the front door.

I know it's a simple silly story, but I felt like a hero that night, and saving a life is good for the soul.

First Post of 2012!

When I get stuck, I blog. I'd been posting every day for months last year, and towards the end of the year, I ran out of steam.

Well, I've been thinking sporadically about my senior paper now for weeks and haven't been processing it anywhere, so here I am again at the place where I do my best thinking. It may not be pretty at first, but hang tight, I'll get back into the swing of things before you know it.

It's January 2012 now, and December 2011 is behind us. Interesting things happened last month. Here are a few of my favorites:

• I intentionally took time off from work - Wowzah!
• I got attacked at a Hanukkah party by a crazy alcoholic - And successfully spoke my mind!
• I acted like a teenager and started watching Roswell - Sci-Fi baby!
• I sold a lot of stuff on eBay and Etsy - Best sales month ever!

Here are a few of my favorite Christmas presents:

• A Daniel Day-Lewis movie
• An Etsy favorite nude that I've been admiring for ages
• Money for thrifting that I've already spent, and quite happily

The thoughts I am having for my senior paper revolve around being human, experiencing unwanted or "negative" emotions fully, and acknowledging grief. I have ideas, but I don't have a plan. I have a graduation date, but I don't have a clear road-map for how I am going to get there. I feel unsettled about many things, and the future is only looking more and more murky as the days go by. Bleh.

All in all, taking a vacation has only been excruciating. I so depend on feeling productive that when I intentionally stop doing anything, in order to rest and regroup, I do not rest; I get depressed and confused. I get cranky and easily frustrated. Everything and everyone makes me unhappy. At some point, I ease into it, but by the time that happens, it's time to return to my regular scheduled programming. Damn it all.

Welcome back! I hope that some time in the new year, you find rest for your soul, time to reflect upon life and love and where you are in the world. At the very least, light a candle, and thank your higher power for another year of life, however thankful you may actually be. Living is always hard, but it's also sometimes beautiful, and that's worth another year.