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.

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.

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.