Ranting about being 23

I haven't written in this thing for over 6 months now. That is a testament to the fact that my last semester of college was pretty all-consuming. So, as of May 2012 I have my Bachelor of Arts in Social Work. As of May 2012 through now I've found out that a BSW will not get me a summer job - it seems more like a deterrent for most hiring managers. Maybe if I were seeking full-time employment I would have had more luck. Maybe if my husband were willing to let me stand in line for hours at the new Mel's or IHOP during open interviews I would have had more luck. All I know is it's about to be July and I have no income other than that which my benevolent mother bestows upon me.

I'm the Class of 2012 but the point still applies - I deflated pretty quickly.

Being 20-something is what I imagine to be a good on-earth example of purgatory. We thought it was college, but no, we need to undergo some more crap before we're ready to enter the adult world. How many college graduates do I know who had to live at home for a few months to a year before heading out on their own? How many have parents helping out financially? We are mocked for being a lazy generation yet, in general, we start out behind with mountains of debt and not everyone is so lucky to have some help from family. The only ones who are truly ahead don't graduate in the red and likely get a little gift of a down-payment as a graduation gift.

Today the Supreme Court decided to uphold a big part of the Obama administration's health care reform. Because of that reform I'm able to stay on my mom's insurance until I'm 26, though at 25 I'll be trying to enter the grown-up job market after grad school. It's like half the county knows how shit out of luck we are as twenty-somethings and the other half wants us to figure out how to fix 'it' on our own.

I have a roof over my head and things that pass as food in my belly (at least I did 10 hours ago, oops). I'm not facing a foreclosure or lay off or other life-changing event. I'm simply stuck where I am. Our car needed repairing and a wonderful aunt stepped help with that. The cat needs her license renewed which is ridiculous because she has nothing at all to do with the outside world. Our TV just broke at 1.5 years old and I'm fighting the maker to fix it. In a month and a half I will start grad school and find my purpose again. For now, I'm going to rely on my mom and keep spending all my time on borderline-smutty books and video games.

Writing

I've been wanting to write again but someone got it into my head that writing for oneself typically doesn't produce anything worth reading. Then again, don't they also say to write what you know? I know my own story pretty damn well.

I can't even sit still long enough to read someone else's words let alone write my own. I used to devour books but something about college has taken the love of reading away from me.

Read a book?

Am I supposed to take notes on it?

Is there going to be a test?

Hmph.

What I'm Supposed to Do

In less than 12 hours I will officially begin my internship with the local school district's Foster Youth Services. I am a bundle of nerves. A minute ago I caught myself rocking back and forth every so slightly. I haven't done that in ages. With the perfect timing the universe usually bestows upon me my cat decided to ingest a large amount of plastic that she's been slowly but surely vomiting up and pooping out. Instead of reading over my notes for tomorrow I'm obsessively prodding her belly, checking her stool, feeling her gums, and figuring out her respiratory rate. All seems well but I can't relax.

My first challenge tomorrow is getting up at 3AM to take Felix to work. We're sharing one car and I still haven't figured out if I need it for my internship or not. I'll probably come back home around 4:15, pass out for a couple of hours, then start getting ready. I'll have to shove breakfast down my throat just delicately enough to make it stay down. I may take a caffeine pill in lieu of coffee then throw lunch into a bag and be off. The next big mental hurdle I've created is driving there. I hate the freeway. I especially hate 99. Thankfully I'll be going the opposite direction of the morning traffic. I hope I remember how to get there - I should look it up.

Third is figuring out what I'm supposed to even do tomorrow at my internship. I know I have Mandated Reporter training from 2PM-4PM. What about from 9AM-2PM, though? I hope they have a plan for me because I don't sit still well. No matter what I will remind myself of one key idea: "This is what I'm supposed to be doing... FINALLY." I decided on social work a good 2 or 3 years ago and this is the first time I'll really get to start. It's only 9 months... then 2 more years in grad school.

Emmi just jumped on my laptop seeking attention. That's a good sign. I'm going to play with her for a while then crawl into bed next to my amazing husband and try to sleep. 9 hours and 23 minutes!

What a day

Today was such a strange day that it deserves to be documented. I woke Felix up for work at 3AM after we'd each only had about four hours of sleep. His EMT class has him getting home at 10PM on a few weeknights. It was a struggle to get his butt out of bed. I passed back out when he left and snoozed my alarm until 9:12!!! I usually get to work by 9AM. I figured Felix could give me a ride but no, he was staying late at work. I frantically rushed to get ready and ran out the door looking like a mess.

A half block from my bus stop a guy in a giant pick-up truck pulls over and says, "Excuse me ma'am... I just wanted to say you are one hot woman." Despite his commentary, he didn't seem too terribly creepy so I said thank you and kept walking. Well he drives ahead and waits at the end of the block so he can say, "I sure hope he's doin his job because he is one lucky motherfucker." So, he either saw my ring or assumed. I assured him Felix is doing well but said I'd let him know what the guy said. He says bye, drives off, and is gone.

Finally my bus arrives and I hop on. We go from 23rd Street down to 19th and get stuck thanks to a stopped train. Lovely. It wasn't like I was late or anything. About 10 minutes later we continue on and I end up at work at 10AM frantically apologizing to my manager.

I go to log in to my computer and voila, the whe server is down. It was down from 10AM to about 11:30 when we left for lunch. It was my going away lunch and so bittersweet. I chose Zocalo to keep the non-sushi-lovers in mind and thankfully everyone liked it. At the end of the meal they presented me with some very thoughtful parting gifts including gift cards to a few of our favorite lunch spots. That was incredibly thoughtful especially since I will be unemployed and not get to eat out as often. I couldn't read my card at the table because I knew I'd cry.

We get back and I finish boxing up my desk since the new student starts tomorrow. When it's time to leave I get out to Felix kind of late and we head to Sutter Express to check out my TB test results. I read the card in the car and get l emotional. The doc at Sutter Express checks my arm - Negative, whoo. Now I just have to get this paperwork to my internship site. On the drive back home to midtown a giant rock cracks our already pathetic windshield. I'm talking a HUGE, asterisk-shaped crack bigger than a silver dollar. Oh, joy.

Once we got home I refused to leave. I was just glad the day was drawing to a close. Tomorrow I start training the new student then Friday is my last day. I can't wait for school to start next week :) Senior year, I will destroy you (in a good way).

Transitions

I probably shouldn't confess this but I'm sitting at my gray desk in my tiny little gray cubicle thinking about all the reasons I don't want to be here. I genuinely adore my coworkers, these strong and amazing women (and one man) I've come to know over these past 3 years and 9 months. This is the longest I've held any job. Still, I'm done. It's almost physically painful to sit still. I don't care about applications or salaries anymore. I'm only still trying for the afforementioned coworkers. Two more weeks and I'll be rid of all this gray.

This weekend I volunteered at the Health, Education, and Career Conference for foster youth and foster parents. I woke up at 5:30AM and stumbled across Sac City's campus to the Student Center around 7AM. I worked harder than I have in months... and I loved every second of it. I welcomed attendees, helped with Planned Parenthood's Safe is Sexy workshop, and did some crazy high energy child care toward the end. By the time I left I had huge raw blisters and my whole body ached. It was perfect. Each half smile, awkward hello or nod lingered with me. One girl said she was going to look into Americorps so she could do things like this because she was having so much fun. The whole experience renewed my excitement and desire to finally be doing what I'm studying. I get to be a social worker soon.

Afterward I attended an officer mixer for the Bachelor of Social Work Association and the Master of Social Work Association. Being around people who cared so much about the same things I did made my heart feel full. We had some fun and did a lot of planning for the upcoming semester. Now I can't wait for school to start :)

Morning thoughts

As I start writing this entry I glance at the clock and see that it's 4:42AM. I'm killing time before I catch the 6:31AM bus to work and still get there just a little too early. I've been out for two days, first for weird stomach issues then the next day because I couldn't catch a wink of sleep. I only have a few months left at this job, though, so I need to make them count.

My body is giving up on me, I think. My hair is rebelling against the crappy shampoo I've been using until I get my next paycheck. It's turned into a bird's nest that refuses to do anything other than frizz up. My skin had dried out so badly from this weird weather and nothing seems to fix it. My sleep, ohhh my sleep... it's broken. A friend who's a professor said he goes through the same kind of break down after the semester ends. He said we don't suddenly go from 125 to 0 very well. That makes a LOT of sense.

Hmm. While my fingers are tapping away on the keyboard I have Emmi next to me purring on the arm of the sofa. Felix is already at work - he'll take his lunch break shortly after I get my first latte of the day. I don't really have much to be worried about. I just need to breathe and let me body calm down. Of course I could be catching the 5:31AM bus to the gym then heading to work but that would be just a tad too proactive for my liking :) Maybe next week.

22

We belong to no one in particular

Not members of a specific kin, special days spent in Chinese restaurants with others of the same situation

Words go unspoken, unread, unnoticed while feelings fizzle; traditions forgotten with no home to hold them

Seeking approval despite feigned independence - playing parent, sibling, friend, lover

At least we have each other

Body Image

With all this hype about being thin I always wonder why society ends up with such conflicting views. Overall it seems like thin is perceived as a representation of one’s fitness - which science now has proven is untrue. Nevertheless the people on shows like Biggest Loser drop weight so rapidly they’re left with hanging flesh and gaunt faces.

Here’s an experiment: if you’re over 18 (sorry, gotta say it) turn off your search filter on Google images. Type in “voluptuous” and hit search. What are you now looking at? My results were 99% hard porn with some only mildly erotic images mixed in. The only clothed results were Christina Hendricks and Kim Kardashian - both known as sex symbols.

Now type in “thin” and hit search. No nude images popped up for me. It more so seemed like the pictures I encountered led to joke sites or thinspo pages. What does that say? I’m not trying to guess - I honestly don’t know.

I tried to choose the words carefully to allow for the most positive label for either extreme of body times. “Fat” brings up all kinds of mean pictures based on the connotation of the word while “skinny” also leads to pretty negative images (or jeans ads).

Now, should I be insulted that the only way my being overweight will be construed as positive is if I give in to the fetish assigned to my body? I mean, that’s the impression I got from a 2 second Google search. That’s also the feeling I got from the few boys/men I dated before my husband that seemed to make my weight a ‘thing.’ They needed to point out that they liked my size or that it didn’t bother them. Hmm, I wonder why it couldn’t just be a non-issue. No wonder we’re in such constant torment about our bodies.

Let’s just be however we end up being. My doctor says my blood pressure is excellent. My other numbers look fine. I know I should lose weight to lower my risk of breast cancer, which my mother had, and I probably will for that reason alone. Still - can a size 10 or 12 be enough? Is it possible to lose just the right amount of weight and not take off on a downward spiral after falling into the rhythm?

I know solutions for the issues won’t come over night but I hope if I have a daughter I can raise her in a world where her happiness and health come first and the shape of her body last.

Labor Day at Dad's Grave

We all got together on Monday for a lovely BBQ and hang out session. In the afternoon, the whole family (that was present) headed out to Masonic Lawn and visited Dad's grave. He doesn't have a marker yet but we know where he is since he's right next to our grandma and grandpa. These are some pics from that day. Olivia, my toddler great niece, made it such a bittersweet time. My niece, Robyn, quoted Death Cab's "Grapevine Fires" to sum up the experience.

"Bought some wine and some paper cups
Near your daughter's school and we picked her up
Drove to the cemetery on a hill, on a hill

Watched the bullets paint the sky gray
She laughed and danced through the field of graves
There I knew we'd be alright

Everything will be alright"



Hopscotch on grave markers of her ancestors


Kissing the stone



Three of Dad's five kids

End of the Semester Blues

I know I'm supposed to be a grown up now and not seek validation from others but man, do I feel alone sometimes. The early twenties are such a strange part of one's life. Some are partying away destroying whatever brain cells may be hanging in there after high school rebellions. Others have found solace in the academic 'comfort' of college and its predictability. Some dive right into careers. It's such a limbo. We're old enough to drink, get jobs, buy cars... We're too young to be legally/financially considered independent, though, and are gouged for insurance. What do you want us to do, America? Are we adults or just full-grown children? Degrees are bring treated like diplomas so we have to stay in school longer yet no one can afford it. Master's degrees are most desirable but the average graduate student enters the job market with about $40,000 in cumulative debt; it's $49,017 for Master of Social Work students (www.finaid.org/loans).

I don't think our families know what to do with us either, just like society in general. This isn't a dig at my own mother as I know she struggles to help me to the fullest extent... But still, what are parents supposed to do with us? We can stay on their health insurance until age 26 no matter the circumstances now but after we're 24 they can't claim us on their taxes, right?

I want my Master's so I can have one more tool to help save the world, one more advantage to make a difference - but I'm so tired. I am drained by the thought of 3 more years of school... But I'm also so excited about it. All the conflicting messages about what I'm supposed to be doing makes my head want to explode.

I hope I check back on this blabbering, endless rant of mine in 5 years and just laugh at what I'm feeling now. I hope that things are easier for the next batch of teens entering the 20-something limbo. I hope we as adults will remember how confusing it is to be them and that we'll offer some support.