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.

In the Name of the Father

Today, we are told that the killings in Syria have again crossed the lines of the imagination. People are being killed execution-style in their homes and safe houses, and government officials say that each and every person was killed as a part of a terrorist sweep.

War changes people. I've seen it in my own life. It creates mental illness in numbers too large to imagine, and it's so ugly, all most of us can do is turn our eyes away so we don't have to see the ugliness. People who are tortured, people who see their friends murdered - these people are forever changed. This is why soldiers returning from the Middle East commit crazy crimes, and kill themselves. They are terribly wounded by what they've seen, and what they've done. War brings out the worst in all of us, and we pass the worst parts of ourselves on to our children, and our children's children.

Peace is difficult. It is painful and sacrificial. But it is the only way we can survive without killing our own souls. It's the only way we can create a world that is worth living in, a world that is fit to give to our children.

That's all I have for today folks. You can help Syrian refugees in tangible, practical ways by giving to Mennonite Central Committee, who provides material resources to refugees in Jordan.

Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage clip-on earrings - no signature, but aren't they awesome?

I am being really hard on myself right now. I usually assume that everyone thinks as poorly about me as I do about myself. I don't know that this is true. I've been told that it isn't. These moments (and I have them every once in a while) are full of comparisons to other people, and self-flagellation about not being A, B, or C when I reach age thirty less than two months from now.

Laurel Burch "Toucan" earrings - very fun :)

I wish I thought less of myself, as in, thought I was less important. But I was raised to believe that the world's emotional health was entirely dependent upon me, and that's a tough false belief to shake.

I just know that someone out there would love these, just not me.

When we thrift, like as a lifestyle, nothing is ever perfect. We may see it as perfect, but let's face it. Think of all the hands that touched it before you found it. How's that for perfection? I don't know why I allow everything else in my life to be imperfect, yet continue to expect myself to somehow rise above and defy gravity.

I suppose sometimes I imagine that other people need me to be perfect in order to keep loving me, and my love of thrift is my statement to the world that I will, in fact, never be perfect, and everyone just needs to deal with it. Now if only I could get my frontal lobe involved in this operation...

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

The death of the hybrid dream...for now

I listed this as a political tie :)

I had some not-so-fun talks yesterday about the car situation. I had to be told, first by a friend, then by my dad, that I need to let go of my used hybrid dream. It's not possible in my current financial situation. It hurts to hear the truth. It really does, but it's the only way to move forward. I've been stuck in the dream, and it's kept me stuck in the Rabbit, which I discovered last night is full of black widows, not because it doesn't run, but because the tree in our front yard has an entire ecosystem existing inside of it.

So instead of the $8000 range, I am now looking more at the $2000 range. Hey, moving from 30+ to 20+ years-old is a move in the right direction. I found an '87 Honda Shuttle that I really like, but the owner hasn't responded yet to my query. A very eager man came to look at the Rabbit last night at 9:30, and wanted to take it right there, on-the-spot, cash in hand. But it was late, and I had blood sugar on the lower side, so I wasn't willing to make such a huge decision. Also, it was dark, and everything looks different when the sun comes up.

My dad says I need to get a Honda. I told him that they get stolen more than any other car. He didn't believe me. I told him that it felt ethically wrong to lower my mpg by buying a new car. He quoted Lenin. That made me feel better.

Thrift Share Monday :)

Signed "A. Mountanos 1980"

I found this mug last week, and haven't been able to find anything like it. There is a Mountanos Coffee Company, and I have been able to find some strand of a connection between the Mountanos surname, and Turkey. It might just be a fluke, but I thought it was really neat, and maybe collectible.

This morning, I woke up to a hilarious passive aggressive email in my inbox telling me, in essence, how selfish and greedy I was being for not accepting offers of 25-35% of my asking price, and how the buyer would send me "[my] profit" as soon as I accepted the offer. Dude, if you only knew how I get by. It's really laughable. Sometimes I ask myself if it's ethical for me to buy low and sell high, even if the item is worth what I'm asking. Sometimes I wonder if I need to cap my profit on any one particular item. I don't know. I'm not making a lot of money. I'm paying my bills.

Last night, my car started acting up, definitely structural and not the engine itself (it was still running well), and now I'm sitting in my apartment debating whether I should drive it at all before my appointment tomorrow at my mechanic. I still have paperwork to wrap up for my work year, and I have to drive to my supervisor's office to get final signatures. I'm kinda trusting that the car thing will be fixable in one day, and I'll be able to finish the paperwork traveling tomorrow afternoon. Ah the life of a VW owner! It's blissful, really :)

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl.