The big picture.

I'm so in love with this painting :)

I've sold a lot of stuff in the past few days, so I'm feeling really good. For a long time, I've had a goal of selling 50 things a month for at least $20 profit/item, and that hasn't been working the way I've expected it to. My new goal is $50/day, and it's working a lot better. I'm less concerned with individual item sales and more concerned with daily sales. It makes me more conscious of the bigger picture instead of being bogged down in the little things. I don't know if that makes any sense, but it's working for me, so I'm happy.

I tend to get really anxious about little things, and pulled down into things that may not matter in the long term. I'm convinced that little things are the most important things, like how my thrifting impacts the world, and how my riding the train keeps Amtrak sustainable. I don't think this is working for me the way I want it to. I think it's keeping me from bigger things, from having a bigger impact. I dunno. I'm still on my first cup of coffee.

I am surrounded by helping professionals. I'm a seminary graduate. I have a lot of friends who are pastors, theologians, professors, non-profit peeps. I love this. I love being surrounded by people whose mission every day is to make a difference in the world, in the community. This keeps me motivated and inspired to keep going, even when I'm having an off day. I think a lot of these people vacillate between two extremes, the big picture and the small details. I'm realizing, as I write this, how limited I've allowed my life to be, by getting so caught up in little things. Thought for my day, I suppose :)

Please take a moment to read the most recent news about Syria, and consider making a donation to MCC, currently providing direct aid to Syrian refugees.

Weekend camping :)

Lovely original vintage oil painting - I like it more the more I look at it :)

I spent last weekend up at the lake, a yearly tradition with my church wherein we all drive up on Friday evening, spend two days hanging out and doing whatever we want, and appreciate the time 'away from it all'. I was worried about all of the socializing I would inevitably be required to do, but then found myself loving 99% of it. I got to catch up with people I see all the time, but don't often have hour-long conversations with. I got to eat baked oatmeal and watch with interest at how much coffee all of the adults drank each morning. I got to kayak on a clear blue lake with a friend, and feel outdoorsy for the first time in ages. It was a lovely weekend.

Yesterday was spent recovering from all of the human contact by cleaning up my apartment, and listing stuff on eBay. I love my job, this whole reselling thing I do. I love the rhythm of it, the flexibility of it. I love that it is always changing, always shifting. It's been a good month.

Please take a moment to read the latest from the war in Syria and consider making a donation to Mennonite Central Committee, one of the few organizations providing direct aid to Syrian refugees.

Summer sandals :)

Vintage Hot Pink Dress with Tied Cap Sleeves and a Geometric Pattern

Now that I have a professional job, dressing is of utmost importance. So in thrift stores, I'm always looking for stuff to sell, but I've also got my eye out for clothing for myself. You wouldn't think it (ha!), but my thrifted finds often wear out sooner over later. Also, I'm terribly picky.

So I often spend time on eBay looking for deals on the finds of others. My current interest is sandals. I used to be terrified of my height, my figure, my female-ishness. But now I'm okay with it. Give me heels! Flowers on the toes! Even pink! I can handle it.

But I'm still working on my debt, which felt so possible to pay off next month, but a bunch of things came up this month, so that feels not-so-possible now. I'll have a few slow months in the summer work-wise, so now I feel less in-control, and that always messes me up a bit.

But the sandals...oh, the sandals!

Mexican bread :)

Who this is, where it came from, I don't know.

When I was a kid, my stepdad occasionally brought home Mexican bread from work. I only remember the ones with pink and yellow stuff on top. His coworkers gave him food, he would bring it home, and it would get eaten by someone, usually. All I remember is how dry and crumbly they were, and I decided that for the rest of my life, I would eschew Mexican breads of all kind.

Fast-forward to today, and I have discovered that I love Mexican bread. I have to keep myself from going to the panaderia every day. It's on my way to work, and it's only a couple blocks away from my house, and it's always soft and fresh. I can't get enough of it. I'm always the whitest person in the place, and the only one speaking English, but I don't care. I want the bread! It's my newest coping mechanism. I got coffee there once, but it wasn't worth it. Most people don't drink coffee there anyway. They get champurrado, which is excessive to my anti-dairy palette.

If I go at 9, it's less fresh. If I go before 7, it's the best: light and airy and a little warm. Ahhhh... Just thinking about it makes me feel happy and peaceful :)

I'm so cold!

This is part of a vintage yarn painting kit - um, Last Christmas anyone?

It started raining this week. I guess it's rainy season now, since it went from lovely spring temperatures for President's Day, which I spent at a bicycle race out of town, to today, where I only wore a sweater to work, and I looked awful because I was so cold. Someone even commented on it at the market where I was getting a burrito for lunch (my new favorite place - it's awesome and close to work), because I was chattering and moving back and forth trying to stay warm. Ridiculous. Totally ridiculous.

I have a small heater in my office, which gets used to abate the chill that occasionally takes over the room, and I kept it right next to me today, along with a cup of hot tea. If my appearance weren't so important at my job, I would wear a ski sweater, and a knit hat, and jeans, and boots every day. I can't even think about it - it sounds sooooooo nice.

I don't know why I'm so susceptible to hot and cold. I got over it a few years ago. Going on insulin made it livable in the summer, but the cold is definitely still difficult.

Maybe I'll start wearing a hat. I think that's a good compromise. I can rock a hat. I'm gonna need to start looking for some more hats then :)

The art of lounging :)

Bff got me a new lounging sweater for Christmas. She knows how I love to "lounge". I don't think I ever really let anyone know my secret "I live in my bed" until her. It's nice to be known.

I'm working on my taxes (I know - I'm proud of myself too!) and it's a pain in the ass, as I expected, but much more doable than I previously expected when I had an overwhelming rush of impossibility a week ago just thinking about it. I have a printer. I printed bank statements. Now I'm highlighting relevant transactions. Later I will add them up and combine them with my online Outright stuff from eBay, which is awesome and helps me do the impossible, like keep track of sales tax and expenses and income, and on and on...ad infinitum.

My vacation has truly helped my brain get to a better place. I'm compartmentalizing in healthy ways, i.e. not thinking about things that don't need to be thought about in a given moment. I just ate an orange off the orange tree in the backyard, evidencing my ability to feed myself, and I remembered to put extra blankets on the bed (finally), so that I won't freeze to death in my sleep.

All is well :)

Thrift Share Monday :)

Ah yes, ol' cousin Ren :)

So I have a routine of going to the local Amvets after church because they have 50% off everything on Sundays. But, as you can well imagine, it's a mad house, and once I decide to make a purchase, I am also deciding to wait in line for 20-30 minutes, always surrounded by screaming children. But this got me Battleship and Guess Who, and a myriad of other wonderful things, so I make the choice willingly.

All of them are at least twenty years old - 80s/90s

But yesterday, I just didn't want to do it, so I went somewhere else (DAV baby! I love the veterans - What can I say?). And I'm grinning because it was like, the best decision ever. I found a total of nine (9!) of these stocking kits. They're already all listed, even though it was Sunday. I worked the rest of the day anyway because, hey, I wanted to, and I had the time, and there was a seven-year-old's birthday at some point, so I even got some cupcakes on a break during the afternoon.

I am really not very crafty - sorry folks

For whatever reason, December has been a great month thus far. I feel so much calmer, so much less anxious. There's nothing in particular that I'm looking forward to. I'm just, I dunno, better overall. But I also have a lot of paperwork that I'm avoiding, so maybe that has something to do with it. On to that now...peace out.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Piles and piles...

This coat just screams "Mountain Man", don' it?

Right now, I have a pile of clothing on my bed, already photographed, waiting to be listed. I had a momentary meltdown yesterday about money, so working today makes me feel calmer, like I have some power over my circumstances.

I spend like half my income on medical bills. So all this extra bullshit with my brain just makes me feel like I'm going to die in debt. I feel like I can't get out of it, so I'm working as much as I can to empower myself through December to pay my bills and buy groceries, simultaneously. A girl can hope.

My wish on the yoga studio's Christmas tree last night is to get out of debt someday. I just hope it will be someday soon.

I hate money.

Rat's ass, flying f***, etc.

Vintage scarf with a design I thought was cool, and now adorns my office :)

I've decided that not giving a fuck is like, our calling in life as human beings. Now hear me out please. I'm not suggesting that we hurt other people, but that we stop having freak-outs over all of the things we think might happen, or what people might think, or might do. Maybe something will happen that is difficult, or even unmanageable, but let's get to that when it comes, not years before. Think of all your wasted anxiety on things that never came to be, how much sleep you lost, how little you ate, how much you cried, etc, etc, etc.

So I may, or may not, have had a seizure a couple weeks ago in yoga, and this possible seizure has created a whole host of problems for me, the least of which is the totally inappropriate time at which this all happened. It seriously has put me over the edge. Suddenly, I have to deal with all of these tests and doctors, unexpected medical bills, rescheduling a whole host of appointments for work, and it's all a pain in the ass.

But here's the deal: all of the things that I've been stressing out about at work have fallen by the wayside. Suddenly I have no room for the extra anxiety of thinking about what people might be thinking about me. I think it actually makes me do my job better. Suddenly, I've stopped giving a fuck, and it's a wonderful thing. I keep imagining that this is what eighty-year-old women feel like.

Also, my hair just keeps looking awesome, so that helps too.

Peace out :)

Things I'm thankful for :)

1. Dogs - especially ones who whine ecstatically when they see me
2. Men who like big words - mostly because it means they're not afraid of me
3. Doctors - especially those who trust me
4. Art - because where would we be without really great nudes?
5. Insulin - cuz it's awesome; you should try it sometime
6. My poems - especially since I don't show them to anyone anymore
7. My job - because I love it, and I'm really good at it
8. Natalie Merchant - playing in my car all month
9. Rainer Maria Rilke - who always inspires me
10. All of the wonderful, brilliant, interesting people in my life - I love you all

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.

Delusion.

Pewter and Turquoise - pewter is a funny word.

I'm attempting to sort out some things in my brain at the moment. I use the word attempting loosely. I've been doing it for a couple days, but mostly I'm left just staring at the ceiling, in a daze. I think I've written some poems, and I'll probably write some more, but I don't know if that's even sufficient.

I like to have control. It's a safe feeling. It's a delusional feeling, but safe all the same. But these past two months have been completely out of my control, bringing things into my life that seriously seemed previously unthinkable and impossible. When I was in school, there was a rhythm. Predictable things happened. I worked all the time, and I was exhausted most of the time, and my brain was tired with all of the neurotransmitters being connected. But in the midst of exhaustion was a sense of certainty, that there was a goal at the end of every road, even an ultimate goal. But now there is no ultimate goal, just lots of learning new things and falling down, and standing back up and continuing on. There are no grades, no end to projects, no certainty about the future (again, delusional thinking).

I wonder how much most people fear stability, the quiet of the present moment, the constant unknown and lack of control. My insides get twisted up, and have to be untwisted, and that takes a little while, and a lot of staring at the ceiling.

Peace out :)

Sifting through junk :)

Autumn-themed Vera tablecloth :)

So I'm in this weird selling rut, where my professional wheels-and-heels job is cutting into my getting-my-hands-dirty job. So this afternoon, on a long lunch, I went to a warehouse downtown where I've heard that there is a lot of junk. Well, it didn't look like they were open, but the door was ajar, so I timidly walked in. They were closed, but I looked so professional and out-of-place that they felt sorry for me and let me walk around anyway, and referred to me as "this nice lady". I really needed to sift through a bunch of junk today. I needed a good day.

Next time I go in, I will go on a day when they are actually open, and I will wear overalls or something equally unattractive, so I can really dig and get gross. They said not to pay attention to prices, so I imagine I can get a bunch of stuff and make 'em a deal, which I love to do. Also, I found some old PETA cards that encouraged vegetarianism, and a homemade mug that said "Pappy" with a naked woman as the handle (like at a ship's prow).

I finally got my bike cleaned and photographed and almost listed. I am making progress, painfully slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Peace out mofos :)

People are animals!

There are few words to describe the past several days of my life. So I don't know if I'll try. All of it makes me feel very alone, and that cannot be helped.

But then some good things are happening, like I thrifted a lot yesterday. I bought Throwing Copper because I dunno, I had a seizure several years ago and got rid of all of my "dark" music, and listened to this song over and over again in the car. Also, I found a brown tweed shift that goes all the way to my knees (!) from Ann freakin' Taylor. Then, I finally figured out how to go to one of those quick car washes with free vacuums, so now my car looks so much better. Also, my thirteen-year-old friend made chocolate cake, and the dog ate a frog, so I laughed a lot, and got a lot of crazy kisses from dog #2 whose mouth was not foaming. So now I'm gonna go to work, and I'm gonna think about all of these good things when I'm feeling down.

Thanks for being here. I'm quite fond of you.

Getting S done.

Having a new job has made me really tired and discombobulated, making me less focused and able to purchase inventory. This is problematic, not because my shop hasn't been making any money, but because the summer bump in inventory can only last so long before it all sells and I'm back to eating oatmeal three meals a day.

So this week, I've been better, intentionally. I've made myself purchase things, even though it takes up-front money, which I don't have much of. It also means waiting in line for 30min. on Sunday afternoon because the whole store is 50% off, and every mother in the neighborhood is buying her children's fall wardrobe, little ones in tow.

But today, I am working hard, photographing and listing, because it needs to be done, and I'm the only one doing it.

Peace out :)

Terracycle.

Over the summer, I found a company called Terracycle, and at first I thought, "this is a sham - after all, I did click on an ad from Facebook to get here". But the more I looked at it, the more I realized that, underneath the kitschy products that look like they were made for tweens (e.g. purses made of Fritos bags), there was a real campaign to eliminate waste.

At my school, in the copy room/mail room/supply room, there are easy-to-see boxes that collect receipts for a local grocery store that donates to the school, then there is a bag that holds those (what are they called?) Box Tops for Education. They're easy to use, and that makes me remember to use them.

Blah, blah, blah. The point I'm working towards (very poorly), is that our schools are places where kids are. And kids need things to do and be excited about. In my city, trash is a pretty big industry, and this program provides a way to both recycle things that would otherwise just sit in landfills, and helps to create and sustain a culture of recycling.

Ambiguity breeds anxiety :(

Skipper, the ultimate in waiting..."When will I be Barbie?"

I thought that after graduating, it might take a while to feel like myself again, but I'm finding that I only get moments here and there where I really feel sane and stable. Don't get me wrong; I'm not unstable, but I just feel, well, different.

Being in school, no matter how hard I worked, little I slept, and how poorly I cooked for myself (oatmeal x three = a day's worth of meals), I always had a purpose, a destination. And most days, especially 99% of the days of last year, I was genuinely happy with my life. But today, me with a masters degree is less happy and satisfied than me without said degree. And that doesn't make me happy.

I don't like being a pessimist, a cynic, a complainer. It's one thing to complain about Syria, Afghanistan, or factory farming, but it's just not admirable to be a stick-in-the-mud for no reason other than "Well, I dunno. I just don't feel like myself."

I spoke with a colleague this morning about this phenomenon, and he replied, "Yeah, that never goes away."

Sheesh.

I am bad at being patient.

After waiting two years to find these in my size, when they arrived, all I could think was, "Meh"

So I moved into my new office today, and found that in spite of my saying that "yes, that's okay with me", it did not feel okay to have someone else's things in the office. The previous occupant needs a little bit of grace to move her things out. And in that moment (which extended into a school-day long of feeling crappy and anxious), I realized, "Hey Megan, you're not as patient as you thought you were." Shit. I was afraid of that.

I have waited for a lot of things in my life, and for some of them, I am still waiting. Scratch that. I've been waiting for a lot of things for my whole life. I thought that this waiting was making me a patient person, but in fact, it isn't. I've become angry about the waiting. I'm angry with God for the hand I was dealt. I'm angry at God for not plucking me out of my own life, and giving me a similar, but easier, alternate reality. Instead of being an adult about the whole thing, I've allowed my three-year-old self to run the show, and she's constantly asking, "Are we there yet?" And I don't know what to tell her. "No, we're not there yet. I don't know when we're going to be there, or if we'll ever get there, or if I even know where it is we're supposedly going." Is that what I say?

Whatever I end up saying, I want it to be something that helps me to be more patient, that points me in the right direction, instead of where I am at the moment, the decidedly wrong direction. Somehow, I need to learn to be patient for the things I want. But it's so hard. I want it now!

Also, I'm terrible with change, so that might not be helping the situation. Prescription? More cowbell!

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.