There is Paint All Over My Hands Again

I finally started working a real job again. FINALLY. I really don't know what I would have done if I didn't start working now. I'm pretty much going to run out of money around the time that I get my first paycheck. Maybe even a little before. Yikes. Things are working out though.

I'm back in the classroom. I'm at a school for special needs kids - kids on the autism spectrum, mental and physical disabilities. At face value the job is almost exactly like that of an Inner Harbour counselor (with our AmeriCorps classroom aide/tutoring thrown in there). On paper, the duties are the same and the kids are displaying the same kinds of negative/aggressive behaviors. However, everything is manifested in a completely different way. Things seem a lot more tame here. Everything is sort of laid back - largely because the students are primarily laid back. Many of the students are non-verbal, and many of the ones that do talk don't always want to. There are students acting out; there are students running out of the classroom, but as a whole they are much more quick to de-escalate. They need a lot of prompts and redirection, but when directions are given the students just listen and comply.

I don't even feel like I can give an accurate description of how bizarre it seems. It's the exact same job with a completely different population of students. It is concurrently exactly the same and completely different. There is a staff member who looks and acts just like Ms. Toccara(only slightly more peppy). Her name is Pepper. All of the staff here go by their first names. There is also a boy named Justin who (the first time I heard anything about him) I heard described as a fashionista. His favorite thing to do is to play with the hair of one of those oversized Barbie heads made for doing their hair and makeup. Sound familiar? Boundaries is not a thing here. Mainly because a) these kids do not have (known) histories of sexual abuse like many of ours and b) many of them need to be physically moved or helped to do certain activities. What they have instead is "safe hands" which many students need to be reminded of often. Also, they take pictures of the students all the time. Mostly this was for the past two days of Halloween festivities, but it still feels weird to me that they can do that.

My play opens in less than a week. Opening night is next Thursday. Exciting! We have an all day tech rehearsal on Sunday and then dress rehearsals Monday through Wednesday. Things are starting to get a little tense - as they usually do so close to opening. I just don't like it when people start to get moody and yell at each other over stupid things (like they started to do at our last rehearsal). Hopefully they got that out of their system and things will run more smoothly from now on.

One of our actresses was diagnosed with swine flu on Tuesday. Well, that's what she said anyway. The director isn't so sure that she wasn't just lying to get out of the show. That actress missed half of the rehearsals to begin with and she wasn't that great. But luckily the part is pretty small and we found a much better actress who even looks more the part and is one hundred times funnier. So that's all good news.

Aww, listen. One of the actresses that I'm working with is writing a blog about her experiences of becoming a professional actress later in life. I knew that she had the blog, but hadn't been to it until last week. And I read some of her past entries and she had one where she wrote about me, and she was so nice. I don't know why people are so nice sometimes, but it was really touching. Here's the link if you want to see how some people are nicer than they should be allowed to be:

http://characteractress.blogspot.com/2009/10/off-book-huh.html

I'll be cutting all of my hair off in the next couple of days. I guess the army didn't do buzz cuts in 1965, but it will still be pretty short. We'll see how that goes.

Education is Liberation

That is the bumper sticker that I looked up to find after I just had this awesome discussion about Native Americans with my professor. It is funny because a couple of months ago I would have had quite different thoughts about Native Americans. However, since I have taken this class I actually feel a bit embarrassed about what I use to think. And I guess it was all summed up by that bumper sticker. It was pretty awesome.

I am a pretty goal oriented person as you guys probably know and I do like knowing what I am striving for. However, I have decided that for the rest of my life I will only have two main goals. 1. To be more educated than I was the day before. And I don't mean math or science education. I mean 'people' education. I want to understand people so that I don't judge people. I want to understand why they are the way they are. Too often people want to characterize people as this or that, and I am as guilty as anyone. I guess it is just human nature. But no one can be characterized. Everyone is complex and equally indescribable. I know this isn't earth shattering stuff. Everyone pretty much understand these things. But from now on, I want to live it. 2. I want to embody the word, 'magnanimous'. I want to have the best spirit that I can possibly have. I am sure that sounds ridiculous but that is my hope. I want to remove the pettiness from my life and just live. Life is too complex to understand, but if I can just live beautifully and accept everyone's beauty I might actually be able to accomplish something.

I know all of this is a bit jumbled and kind of crazy, but ever since I have made that commitment, things have been terrific. Instead of negative things getting me down, I have been using them to lift me up. It all started with a discussion about a kid I coach. He got in trouble and the other coaches were telling me he is a dumbass and that you can't help kids like that. And it dawned on me, they were full of shit. Not only is he an awesome kid, but he can be helped. And so I decided to approach everything this way. I don't agree with the coaches but I think everything the said was coming out of frustration because of their own life experiences. No one in the situation is any certain way. So to me, the best thing to do is to just live positively and show them what being positive can do.

Well I am not sure any of that makes any sense. I am not always the best at articulating my thoughts. Especially, hurrying through this while I sit at the library. And its not like I am saying anything new or anything. Instead, I am just saying that I finally made the move to living like this and it has been great. And with it, I am going to kick some ass....positively.

-Alex

current life in da U.P......eh!

So life up here has been nothing but amazing since I've been back. Up until a week ago I have been working random jobs with Adam, running around Marquette and neighborings counties, painting, drywall cleanup, floor clean up, farming, moving wood, spliting fire wood, spliting kiln wood, cooking, staining, primering, building a wood shed out of nothing but beautiful cedar that we stripped, set and then I almost single handedly cedar shank shingled the entire roof-and liked it :) and more that i can't think of right now!

All of this has been satisfying except for the fact Adam and I have been together none stop 24/7 since I got back, this can get a little intense and in fact leads to me becomeing irritated with him to the point of frustration!

So I set out on a job hunt! and to my excitement I actaully got hired and these people are in no way ready for what they have just done!!! The neat thing is is that I am a support counselor at the Great Lakes Recovery Center, and I will be working with youth ages 12-17, sound familar, who are there to recover from either alcohol or some type of drug, and of course figuring out family issues and regaining their self-esteem without addictive substances.

My first "real day" was yesterday and I really enjoyed it. It started out with music therapy, quite different from what we had at Inner Harbour, this music therapy included the Primary Counselor looking up different songs that talked about drugs, alcohol and/or abuse, printing out the lyrics and having the kids follow along and then relate the words and story in the song to their own lives. It was actaully pretty incredible, the kids responded great and the group went well.

I then read one of them the MEAP test. This is a Michigan school test then you have to take like 4 times at different ages, really quite stupid if you ask me, if reminded me of the tests our kids down south had to take, it was asking them impossible questions that anybody with a learning disorder or not normal child life would ever know or even care about!!!!! arg

Anyways, I believe that the food may be worse, if you can believe that. BLAH

Than after lunch we got to go the the UP Childrens Museum, and I got to play for 2 hours. Going down slides, dressing up in their theatre, play instruments, "fly" an airplane and so much more.

That was my first day in a large nutshell!!!



other than my new job experience that doesn't pay real well, I made more not having a real job and just working anywhere we wanted for 10-13 bucks an hour, now i make 8.50 poo poo

We, Adam and I, are in the planning stage, almost building stage, of building a house on wheels, and I'm very excited for that. It is going to be 8x15 with a loft, wood heat and small solar panels to start. Adam helped our friend Justin mill, (a saw mill) most of the wood that we need, and we have been gathering other materials, we are hoping that it goes up quick once we have everything that we need, hopefully this week!!!!!!!! yeah

Well I'm now being beckened to come and eat breakfast, so I shall update once construction begins. I miss all of you and can't wait to meet up again!! with love and memories cranberry girl

On parkas and people

Weather here has been truly gloomy. Cold rain and gray skies. Neither of which bode well for playgrounds, which is where you can maintain your sanity while working in a kindergarten. Without outdoor playtime cabin fever can become a truly terrifying thing.

I typed up a long post the other day and turned it into an e-mail instead. The jist of it was that after a Fall and Winter of living in my trunk in Douglasville I wore my parka for two days straight here. Well that was the less substantial jist. The other was about the appreciation for proximity and personal face-to-face contact and how I try (and seem to generally succeed at) appreciating what I missed for a year while living in the woods. Even this morning as I woke up in my room and thought about my day ahead I found pieces of relief that I would see people today that I knew. I could watch football for free instead of for the price of chips and salsa (sorry Taco Mac). My dog would be waiting on my couch and the NY Times Style section would be ready for my reading. I wouldn't have to brave the elements to get to where the coffee was. These are all the stuff of Sundays in NJ, they have been for a while. But maybe it took a year of some brutally lonely weekends for that appreciation to sink in.

Okay so the e-mailed version of this post focused on a person and not a day of the week. But that's why it was e-mailed.

On Friday night as I drove the almost-hour north to spend the night I listened to a CD Sterling made me last winter. Aside from "Someday I'll Be A Farmer" which I will always always always associate with Americorps people, there were songs that mostly reminded me of driving around the circle of Hartsfield Jackson and parking in the occasionally suspiciously empty parking deck. It was such a visceral memory, of the antsy waiting that I used to do, sitting in the hard chairs, moving from them to the crush of people all trying to outmaneuver the cordoned-off barriers to see the arriving passengers. It was once a month that I did this (give or take the ones where I flew or drove north) and now it's once or twice a week that I drive there. I hope I never forget or let slip away the feelings of appreciation that I have for all this time now.

But missing people goes both ways. And listening to other songs on the CD make me picture a trailer for a movie about the past year. I see mulch. I see the land on the trail before the bridge was made. I see gray sweatshirts and the kind of smiles that are genuine but that actors also do really well in movie trailers. Weekends were lonely and nights were too. But workdays were so shared that it's hard to imagine ever being closer with coworkers. I guess the difference between missing someone and some things from home is that when you go back there are some beautiful feelings and things that haven't changed. But going back to the past year is pretty impossible. A year-long commitment where almost everyone convenes and then dismisses can't be recreated or revived. If I went back to IH now it would be full of people who aren't the same as the ones I shared life and times with. Which makes nostalgia and missing people complicated, but somehow easier. I don't have those painful feelings that life back there is going on without me. Because technically it's going on without "us". And that's a much less isolating feeling.

November is National Novel Writing Month. I can't decide if that's an easier or more difficult month to participate in than No Processed Foods November. I mean, Thanksgiving is in November. And some of my favorite Thanksgiving foods are processed (I'm looking at you green bean casserole). Additionally the past year has provided more fodder for a novel than most people get in a decade.

We'll see.

I'd rather starve

Well I finally got a job last week. I went to one day of training and quickly said, 'no thank you'. It turned out to be a super shady company that loves money more than it loves things like integrity, honesty, dignity, and people.

But that's okay, because I got another job this week that is much better. I'll be working as a classroom aide at a school that solely serves special education kids. It should be challenging, but rewarding and fun too. I'm also still waiting to hear back from this middle school about a Detention Assistant position. I'd be monitoring In School Suspension kids and helping them with their homework. The big benefit of that position is that it pays very well. So we'll see. I'll be doing one of those jobs for sure. So I'm feeling better about things.

The play is a lot of fun. I get to do things like putting a nun into a compromising position, getting tackled by another nun, building a bomb, and frantically dancing like a crazy person. I also have a four page monologue that's one of the highlights of the show. I will, however, have to buzz my hair into a 1960's army cut very soon. I haven't had my hair that short since I was nine. So it should be interesting to see how that turns out.

I'm back to my pre-Texas diet. And it's about time. Meat is gross.

I'm getting ready to start reading 'Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close'. I can't wait.

Counting down the hours until I can see 'Where the Wild Things Are'.

Today it is raining . . .

. . . which means no digging in the soil, too wet, too wet. No politely arguing world issues (with the two anarchists and undecided Evan) or quietly geeking out about how plants grow and our identification with the female characters in Cold Mountain (Tim, the menonite preacher) and zero chances to listen to Rashid (former harvard grad, Clinton employee, trailer lving, beat up van driving, world travelling, blue tooth talking man of mystery) tell story after story as he shapes an urban farm view of the future.



And no eating okra right of the plant, crispy like a po-tater chip.



No riding my bicylce thru East Point and having the girls outside the hair salon yell "You know you're wearing a helmet, right?"

I know, I know.



It does mean time to post on a blog. To build a blog cabin.



Time to take notes from Food Not Lawns and French Fries in the Food System for a possible Childrens Programming position at an organic farm in Deacatur.



Time to think of Sadi driving the Rav 4 up and down douglasville, his face bobbing and smiling as people stare at all the drawings he wanted to stay on. There's a giraffe on the roof. And a "I love Chocolate" on one of the headlights.


Time to wonder about the fact that I've done no volunteering of late. Except for wonderroot, which is more planting/bouncing around/music time than it is volunteering.

No processed food November. Are you ready?

p.s. - Love is Love farm became Love is Love swamp in the floods. New York Times, NPR, Georgia Fram Monitor and many others have been following their wet and soggy existence.

p.p.s - everyone move to Chicago on November 20th. I'll be there.

Billy

I was just about to write an irritated letter to the Times Magazine when I read an uppity piece of advice in their Food issue that included something along the lines of "I don't eat 'fake' things, if I want a burger, I will eat a real burger".

Then I turned the page and found this really beautiful moving article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/magazine/11foer-t.html?_r=1&ref=magazine

Finding out Jonathan Safran Foer was a vegetarian was even better than finding out Alec Baldwin was.

But I still might write that letter.

Et au dela de pour moi...

I have been meaning to post something, but I am doing this thing called school again for the first time in over a year and I forgot how time consuming it is. However, today is Friday and the beauty of Friday is that you get to procrastinate everything until Sunday night when you no longer have enough time to do everything you are suppose to do. Anyway, life is great right now. I am happy and content. Coaching hasn't been the most spectacular experience of my life but I do really like the kids. And other than that, I just pretty much live a simple awesome life. Plus, I am not getting more and more excited about school and where I want to go which is making it all the better. I can't really complain about anything. I am taking organic chemistry and I thought I would hate it, but really I love it. It is nerdarific but I enjoy it. Well that's it for me. Cool blog!

On the other hand

A light-hearted post to counter the one from Monday.

Yesterday a kindergartener got mad at me, narrowed his eyes, and hissed, "I'm going to give you a vampire for your birthday." And I thought IH was the only place to get gems like that.

As I drove on a major highway in NJ on this sunny morning I saw a white van pass me by, and the weather and the time of day made me a little nostalgic. Partially because I was driving alone and partially because I couldn't half-nap because of the afore-mentioned solitary status.

Here is a list of reasons why I am excited about going to grad school/becoming a librarian:

I like taking notes in black, inky pens.
I like new notebooks.
It's going to be nice to go from kindergarten to a classroom of smart adults some days.
I feel like my adult life is really shaping up.
I get to use a gym for free again.
I get to take a class called "storytelling" and one about gender and culturally-sensitive books for children.
I will not have to give up my love of fairly intense jewelry to fit in with a corporate environment.
I can perfect my dirty look/shhhh-ing sound in a professional environment.
I will get to do messy art projects with kids.
Also, scavenger hunts.
Also, puppet theater.
Also, book clubs.
Also, movie discussions.
Also, anything I want.
Which means that my wide spectrum of interests and passions can all be included into my daily life. Does it get any better?
But I don't have to do the constant hounding of kids to put away toys, etc., like I have to do now.
My favorite parts of kindergarten right now are reading whatever books I want to the kids
As my sister once said, being the children's librarian is like being the good cop vs. a teacher being the bad cop.
Maybe I will get my own office where I can put this.
I can be as weird as I want, every day at work. Or as normal.
I get to be a professional book-recommender, which is one of my favorite things to do now
I can buy nerdy shirts about how important it is to love your librarian


The only down-side I see so far is the fact that being a young adult librarian probably requires me to read the Twilight books.

It looks a lot of different ways

I fell off the service wagon, but I'm climbing back on, in small ways. Starting a service project today with my kindergarten kids. I believe that when you feel lost in your own worries a good way to find yourself is by involving yourself in the lives and needs of others. But the good feelings aren't really transferable. Just because you're doing good things doesn't mean you stop feeling sick about bad things. And by doing good things to escape pervasive thoughts of bad things, are you somehow cheapening the effort you put forth to be of service? I think that if you are actively looking for ways to serve, regardless of how you feel, your effort counts as basically selfless. Service has always been about feeling the need to even the gap between myself and people who have not been given half the chances and support I have been. I scoffed at people who saw the past year as merely a way of figuring out what they wanted in life, but in actually doing so, am I just perpetuating service as a selfish act.

I remember my mom having this conversation with my sister about ten years ago, about the nature of altruism. My mom seemed to believe that the act of service itself was what mattered, that as long as things were done for others, the motive didn't matter. I don't really agree with that, but my mom seems oddly selfless in the efforts she puts forth. I really don't like the feeling of service as a means of mental peace for myself. But maybe if it doesn't work (which it will probably not), I will escape the guilt.

Service can look a lot of different ways, but it can probably feel even more different ways.

It sounds like a situation I would get in that would force me to climb over a gate everytime I wanted to leave my own damn house.

Toledo Ohio. Thats where I live. Moved in with a wonderful family that asks for dirt cheap rent in exchange for helping renovate the house a little bit, make a meal or two a week, and help with their daughter. Dirt cheap. like 50 bones cheap. The family functions as some sort of a urban homestead situation. We have chickens, ducks, bees, and a pretty big garden for the size. The house was built in the late 1890's by the richest of the richest of the rust belt. Its about 10 blocks from the city center and 2 blocks from Toledo's badass art Museum. All the houses around here have their own carriage houses turned apartments and range in condition from true slum to million dollar homes. Quite a social annomally. Its rather fun.

I believe the two adults living here want more adults living here too. I on the other hand would like to explore further communal living. Communal living that doesn't entail no oven and eating alone, but rather shared expenses and investment in really badass indevours. Im optomistic these days. Thats nice. I feel like in Georgia I was a hot mess of emotions, im reaquanting myself with more consistant good feelings.

I met a boy recently which is fun. He lives in Virginia which is not fun and he is 40 years old which is just bizarre.

It's Official.

I officially became a California resident yesterday. I have a California driver's license and can vote in the state that elected Arnold Schwarzenegger as governor, however, I still don't have a job - so we'll see how long this lasts.

I had an interview with California's version of Inner Harbour today. If I get this job I'll be working as a Classroom Counselor - being a teacher's aide in a psychiatric treatment facility for kids. Sound familiar?

I may not have a job, but I do have a part in a play. This is my first acting job that pays more than imdb credit and a copy of the dvd. It's not much, but it is money. I'll be playing a soldier who goes AWOL from basic training on his way to Vietnam, and who plans on blowing up the pope. Now, I know what you're thinking, and to answer your question: yes, I will be using a Brooklyn accent, and, yes, I will be tackling a nun to the ground.

I like it out here pretty well. The people are cool and there's lots to do. I would like it more if I had a job, but what can you do? Before I came out here I found out that I had one friend from college who had recently moved to the area. He let me stay at his place and helped me get acquainted to the area until I found my own place. Unfortunately, this is a friend that I intentionally cut out of my life and planned on never having to see again. In a nutshell, I hate him. He's a horrible person, and spending time with him feels like slowly shoving an ice pick into my lungs. I feel obligated to hang out with him because he was so nice in helping me get set up and such. Plus, he calls like every other day and wants to do something. So I can only feign excuses like twice a week.

I live one block from the library. It's magical. I also live in a gated community, but I was never given a key to the gate. It's not a problem when I'm coming in - because I can just punch in the access code and get the car gates to open. But when I'm leaving on foot I've had more trouble. For the past month or so I've been climbing the gate when no one's looking. My roommate told me yesterday that there's another gate that doesn't need a key for you to exit.

I've watched 'The House Bunny' twice since I've been here.

I hope everyone's doing well. I miss you all terribly.

No community cabin, but...

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/01/garden/01collective.html?_r=1&8dpc

This article reminds me of living at the campsite. While there are certainly things I don't miss, like having no oven to make cakes in, those months with no hot water, and peeing either outside or a football field away from my house, there are little pieces of communal living that stuck with me. I find myself eating alone with the same frequency, and while the food quality is much better, it's not the same as finding myself microwaving my dinner at the same time as Nick, or trying food that Emily made and the vegetarian conversations that happened concurrently. I don't miss the smells or the crowded feeling I felt for 10 months, but I do miss the people.

It seems I'm always missing people.

I hope that this was the last time that I live communally. My next living arrangement is ideally with just one person (and a dog). But for some people communal living is ideal. I was grateful for several people I lived with the whole time I was in a cabin, but I never stopped wishing for a stove, an oven, and my family.

I am rambling because I have important things to do, like going to work.