I've always loved travel and exploring since I was a kid. I like to learn new things and meet new people. I have had a number of incredibly diverse friends from very different backgrounds throughout my life because I love to learn about people, their cultures, and especially their food. I appreciate the differences of my fellow humans and positive aspects of their personalities. You can learn something important from everyone you meet.
It's sort of unsurprising that I ended up in Poland. I have several Polish friends. I have shared major holidays with their very Polish families... and I consider the bucket list I made when my doctors feared I had a brain tumor to still be valid even though it's clear that I'm no longer on the verge of death or permanent paralysis.
I never thought I would go to Poland for an actual, honest to God Polish wedding though. Life is strange that way sometimes. You see, my S/O has been best friends with a college friend of mine since high school (small world, right?) and the bride wished to be married in her home country. So... I ended up being invited....to Poland.
At first, it was a difficult decision for me to make. It's a huge endeavor to travel that far oversees even if you're in perfect health, which I am not. With my neurological condition (possible MS), Reynaud's phenomenon, bronchitis, and the language barriers I was going to face, the trip was a huge risk. I know just enough Polish to say, "Thanks grandma" but not "Help! I'm having severe muscle spasms; my medicine is in my purse!" Ultimately, I ended up going to support the folks I care about.
I didn't expect to meet so many wonderful people or have so many great experiences. The wedding was beautiful. The bride's family and friends were so VERY generous. I almost feel guilty for coming. They helped us a great deal and the trip wouldn't have gone as smoothly as it did without their generosity and helpfulness.
Poland is much more developed and modern than most people give it credit for. The people there are friendly and are just as curious about you as you are about them. They seem surprised when they find foreign tourists are there for more than shopping and clubbing. My trip to Poland was great, for the most part. There were some scary parts: I had two pretty bad neurological attacks while I was there, an incident in Nowa Huta (Brown folks, avoid that area if you don't have a guide AND a large group. It's actually been in international news due to the residents reacting to foreigners and people they perceive as "rich" in the same way the Puritans reacted to witches.), and a frightening number of guys trying to pick me up whenever my boyfriend left me unattended.
However, there were also some pretty effing awesome parts! Like the wedding reception where we all danced till we were dizzy, the amazing historical architecture in every city, the lovely natural scenery, their boss, bad-assed public transportation system, and the super incredible interactive museums... and the shopping. I'm sorry. Shopping in Poland was like going to an after Christmas sale with $1000 to freely spend. No. Seriously. One dollar is worth about 4 zloty and you can buy a whole pint of beer with that. Most of the other goods, save electronics, are priced similarly.
Showing posts with label Enlightenment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Enlightenment. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Saturation: A poem
Too novel and new
Too unique to stay you
Elements scraped, refined, and tinctured
Hues boiled, extracted, and decantered
More
Not added for the benefit of design,
But an arms race to keep it mine.
Fighting for relevance.
They wanted more.
Color seeping from your skin,
Mimicked till water thin
Concentrate the shades to make them real
Super-saturated, lost all appeal.
More
Because the colors made you blind
Burning rods and cones to stay defined
Losing all elegance
You give them more.
Too unique to stay you
Elements scraped, refined, and tinctured
Hues boiled, extracted, and decantered
More
Not added for the benefit of design,
But an arms race to keep it mine.
Fighting for relevance.
They wanted more.
Color seeping from your skin,
Mimicked till water thin
Concentrate the shades to make them real
Super-saturated, lost all appeal.
More
Because the colors made you blind
Burning rods and cones to stay defined
Losing all elegance
You give them more.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Knee Deep
I happened into one of the more gentrified areas of Pilsen a couple weeks ago. Don't ask what I was doing there because it's not any of your business. Let's just say I was meeting a Dark Haired Stranger for lunch after a morning of boutiquing the jewelry I made. As is our usual, we had lunch at a moderately priced restaurant and went for a turn about the park.
What can I say? We both like walks, it gives us an excuse not to run home immediately, and it's a good way to lengthen any outing and prevent 2 pounds of Mexican food from sticking to your thighs. I'm not trying to make the Twerk Team any time soon, so, yeah. Walks.
As we walked, we passed by some interesting new shops that had opened in the area. Being a social person, I try not to be horribly rude, but I was so entranced by the vintage high waisted shorts in the window, that the Dark Haired Stranger noticed and immediately suggested we go inside. The name of this shop was called Knee Deep.
It smelled like a well-kept attic and was chock full of clothes, trinkets, and accessories from the 50's onward. Everything from authentic Chinese jackets, embellished jackets from the 80s, and jewelry so old the companies are no longer in operation. The items I wanted were too small to fit my rear hindquarters, so despite my intense desire to waltz out wearing an 80's prom dress, it wasn't going to happen. I settled on two brooches that I absolutely adored...and the Dark Haired Stranger made sure I didn't leave the shop without them.
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What can I say? We both like walks, it gives us an excuse not to run home immediately, and it's a good way to lengthen any outing and prevent 2 pounds of Mexican food from sticking to your thighs. I'm not trying to make the Twerk Team any time soon, so, yeah. Walks.
As we walked, we passed by some interesting new shops that had opened in the area. Being a social person, I try not to be horribly rude, but I was so entranced by the vintage high waisted shorts in the window, that the Dark Haired Stranger noticed and immediately suggested we go inside. The name of this shop was called Knee Deep.
It smelled like a well-kept attic and was chock full of clothes, trinkets, and accessories from the 50's onward. Everything from authentic Chinese jackets, embellished jackets from the 80s, and jewelry so old the companies are no longer in operation. The items I wanted were too small to fit my rear hindquarters, so despite my intense desire to waltz out wearing an 80's prom dress, it wasn't going to happen. I settled on two brooches that I absolutely adored...and the Dark Haired Stranger made sure I didn't leave the shop without them.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Tips to Get Out of a Funk a Rut, or Depressed State
I'm going to keep it short and sweet. Partially because, yes, it IS that simple and partly because no, it is NOT that simple. Do you get what I'm saying? Of course you don't. Remember in my last post I stated that Depression affects people differently. Naturally, there's no one-size-fits-all solution and for many people who have recurring depression, it's an ongoing battle.
Step 1: Give yourself time to cry, but maintain a certain routine.
Your feelings do have value and you should never feel like you're not ALLOWED to feel them. Stuffing them in a box and hiding them away is a surefire way to have them sneak up on you later, or worse, fester and boil under the surface, while rotting away everything you like about yourself. You shouldn't focus on crying or being sad for too long, though. I've seen people get swallowed up in a cycle of self-pitying misery. It does NOTHING for you. That is why you need to maintain a routine. Continuing with everyday life things, like cooking and cleaning not only gives you something positive to focus on, but also something stable to cling to as you process your emotions.
Step 2: How do you feel? And why do you feel that way?
Take some time, just a few coherent moments to analyze your feelings. Sadness, loss and other negative emotions can usually be tied to an event or series of events that evoke certain feelings. If you feel trapped, tired, and helpless, think about what things in your life might be forcing you to feel that way.
Step 3: Analyze your problems.
Once you understand how you feel, you can usually start looking at specific problems that those feelings stem from... and begin to mitigate them. Toxic relationships, dead end jobs, loss, boredom... once you recognize what you anxiety and depression stem from, you can begin to rationalize and implement a plan to make those things go away, or at least get yourself some coping mechanisms.
Step 4: Be kind to others.
Some people forget that being in a funk doesn't entitle them to be a dingleberry. Just because you're having a bad day, year, whatever, doesn't mean that being kind is no longer an option. Being compassionate can help YOU to break out of your funk. Every little good deed should be a positive reminder that you can contribute to other people's lives and that you do still have power over things happening around you. Also, you can make new, awesome friends.
Step 5: Don't forget about people.
Be with your loved ones, even if you don't feel like it. Sometimes, you can thrive in their energy. Don't forget that here are loads of people who's lives you have touched in a good way, even though you don't realize it.
Step 6: Never stop moving forward.
Every step forward is a step in the right direction. It gives you focus, it gives you something to look forward to and if it's the past that has you gripped with negative feelings, it can help you overcome it.
Take care of yourselves, kids.
Step 1: Give yourself time to cry, but maintain a certain routine.
Your feelings do have value and you should never feel like you're not ALLOWED to feel them. Stuffing them in a box and hiding them away is a surefire way to have them sneak up on you later, or worse, fester and boil under the surface, while rotting away everything you like about yourself. You shouldn't focus on crying or being sad for too long, though. I've seen people get swallowed up in a cycle of self-pitying misery. It does NOTHING for you. That is why you need to maintain a routine. Continuing with everyday life things, like cooking and cleaning not only gives you something positive to focus on, but also something stable to cling to as you process your emotions.
Step 2: How do you feel? And why do you feel that way?
Take some time, just a few coherent moments to analyze your feelings. Sadness, loss and other negative emotions can usually be tied to an event or series of events that evoke certain feelings. If you feel trapped, tired, and helpless, think about what things in your life might be forcing you to feel that way.
Step 3: Analyze your problems.
Once you understand how you feel, you can usually start looking at specific problems that those feelings stem from... and begin to mitigate them. Toxic relationships, dead end jobs, loss, boredom... once you recognize what you anxiety and depression stem from, you can begin to rationalize and implement a plan to make those things go away, or at least get yourself some coping mechanisms.
Step 4: Be kind to others.
Some people forget that being in a funk doesn't entitle them to be a dingleberry. Just because you're having a bad day, year, whatever, doesn't mean that being kind is no longer an option. Being compassionate can help YOU to break out of your funk. Every little good deed should be a positive reminder that you can contribute to other people's lives and that you do still have power over things happening around you. Also, you can make new, awesome friends.
Step 5: Don't forget about people.
Be with your loved ones, even if you don't feel like it. Sometimes, you can thrive in their energy. Don't forget that here are loads of people who's lives you have touched in a good way, even though you don't realize it.
Step 6: Never stop moving forward.
Every step forward is a step in the right direction. It gives you focus, it gives you something to look forward to and if it's the past that has you gripped with negative feelings, it can help you overcome it.
Take care of yourselves, kids.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Mental Health: Understanding Your Melancholy Neighbors
I don't know what it is about today's era, but there either seems to be a lot more depressed people out there, they stay depressed for longer, or they are talking about it a lot more than I remember as a child. Part of me is glad that depression is on the tips of everyone's tongues because if something is being discussed, it's gaining visibility and if it's visible, more than likely, people will call for change. Change, with things like depression is good. It means we're willingly coming further in finding better treatments, establishing support networks and passing helpful ideas around in society.
As a person who's witnessed, studied, and experienced depression I understand that it is difficult to deal with, remedy and it can be horrible to watch- if you're not the sufferer. However, many people seem to view depression as some sort of bizarre condition that the person experiencing it chose, which is COMPLETELY off the mark. Simply put, that's like expecting a person has complete and perfect control over their surroundings and themselves. Any of you with half a brain know that even the most optimistic and upbeat of individuals can't do that. I mean, I'm sure that if depressed people could choose not to live their life in expert mode, they would have switched the settings long ago.
I've never quite understood why that image is assigned to depressed individuals. Depression is tied prehistoric fight or flight response. Impending danger signals our bodies to turn off many of its functions like: learning, sensory perceptions, and positive emotions that would encourage us to stay where we are... It, you know, shuts off everything that could get you killed while you're going "LADEEDA, LOOK AT THE TULIPS!!!" instead of avoiding the beak and claws of that huge terrorbird hot on your heels.
Stress, danger, fear. In the olden days, those things were tied to direct, explicit threats. Things that you could actually control. They boosted problem solving skills during the danger and rewarded you with a boost of endorphins when the danger had passed, increasing your ability to learn. It helped us to become smarter, avoid or prevent dangers. Those who were hyper vigilant, hyper aware of their surroundings and themselves, and were able to learn, analyze and survive passed that gene to their offspring. Prolonged exposure to stress triggered other physiological responses like a slowed metabolism, lethargy, and extreme cautiousness. In a hard winter, drought, or famine those would have been benefits. Your neighbor was up running about, starving to death, while you hunkered down in the dark and brooded about what to do next. You lived because you didn't burn all your calories. Then, it was a vital part of our species' continuity. Unfortunately, today, it's not.
We don't have huge murderous birds trying to gobble us up. We don't frequently find ourselves facing physical manifestations of danger that we can surmount with analytical skills and on the fly problem solving. We've whittled a lot of those things out of our equation. All we have now are arbitrary constructs that we can't escape from. What happens when you have a built-in predisposition to flee or conquer difficulties but the difficulties you're facing can't be actually conquered? That fight or flight response lingers...and wrecks your body.
That's the root of depression today. We have dangers and fears that we can do nothing about and we're stuck with the intelligence, analytical skills, and all the physical effects of prolonged fight or flight response. That's dangerous. In a society that places value on arbitrary things, useless material items, and the lack the understanding and ability to control the contributors to our success, depression is on the rise. While it's being tracked as carefully as suicides because it's seen as less damaging, we can draw some conclusions about it from the suicide rates- all of which stem from depression. Anyone who wants to argue, I can tell you, I've never heard of a person deliberately killing themselves because they were bored, angry, or happy. So Shush.
From what I gather, suicides and depression cases go hand in hand. Suicides typically peak during times of wide spread turmoil. They tend to be higher in locations with fewer opportunities, fewer entertainment options and distractions, and in communities that have a history of being oppressed.
When you have enough opportunities, distractions and stimuli for people, the rate of suicides and, by association, depression drops. In the economic DEPRESSION (I don't care what sugar-coated garbage the economists try to feed us, it was not a 'recession'. It was a DEPRESSION. The unemployment rate was higher than it was during the Great Depression.) suicide rates shot up significantly in rural, remote, and military locations. That's one of the dangers of depression. Our media has tricked many minds into viewing themselves as the problem, making death seem like a favorable outcome.
Suicide isn't the only danger that comes with depression, however. I mean, it's only the 3rd most likely killer of the underemployed, underpaid Generation Y, so it's not that big a deal, right? Ha! But seriously, larger problem associated with depression would be the health effects from prolonged bouts.
Fight or flight, not grow and repair. Your body shuts down things like healing and immune responses. It turns up the dial on things like blood pressure and other things that would help you run or fight in a tight spot. It's like being Wolverine without the healing factor. Except if Mr. Shiny Claws didn't have the healing factor, all those impressive leaps, punches and acrobatic feats would render his fleshy body to a nice delicious meat soup. That's what happens to the body of a depressed person.
The jacked up function of their circulatory system, brain, and vital organs causes them to get SHREDDED. They don't heal as well, so the wear and tear makes happy little accidents like cancer, heart disease, and sudden, acute onsets of dormant conditions and genetic disorders pop up more frequently. So, yeah, depression slowly turns the afflicted into a pain-riddled shell. Oh. Yeah. So, the number 1 and number two most likely killers of Gen Y totally include heart disease and cancer. FYI.
Most people don't realize that depression is a fight or flight response in overdrive or that a genetic predisposition towards it is beyond the sufferer's control, making 'Snapping out of it' impossible. They don't recognize that the person experiencing it is fighting a mental battle against life and a physical battle as their body erodes around them. People don't understand that it's not something you can just turn off and suddenly be happy again. They also don't get that it affects everyone differently. Worst of all, they don't know how repeated statements of 'Just be happy!' and 'Get over it already!' can point the finger at the depressed person and make it seem like THEY are the problem...and cause an unwanted reaction.
But not all is lost. As a person who's briefly fallen into a depression trap and crawled out of it, I will offer some tips that worked for me in my next post.
As a person who's witnessed, studied, and experienced depression I understand that it is difficult to deal with, remedy and it can be horrible to watch- if you're not the sufferer. However, many people seem to view depression as some sort of bizarre condition that the person experiencing it chose, which is COMPLETELY off the mark. Simply put, that's like expecting a person has complete and perfect control over their surroundings and themselves. Any of you with half a brain know that even the most optimistic and upbeat of individuals can't do that. I mean, I'm sure that if depressed people could choose not to live their life in expert mode, they would have switched the settings long ago.
I've never quite understood why that image is assigned to depressed individuals. Depression is tied prehistoric fight or flight response. Impending danger signals our bodies to turn off many of its functions like: learning, sensory perceptions, and positive emotions that would encourage us to stay where we are... It, you know, shuts off everything that could get you killed while you're going "LADEEDA, LOOK AT THE TULIPS!!!" instead of avoiding the beak and claws of that huge terrorbird hot on your heels.
 |
| Yeah... those things used to eat us. That's just its skull. |
We don't have huge murderous birds trying to gobble us up. We don't frequently find ourselves facing physical manifestations of danger that we can surmount with analytical skills and on the fly problem solving. We've whittled a lot of those things out of our equation. All we have now are arbitrary constructs that we can't escape from. What happens when you have a built-in predisposition to flee or conquer difficulties but the difficulties you're facing can't be actually conquered? That fight or flight response lingers...and wrecks your body.
That's the root of depression today. We have dangers and fears that we can do nothing about and we're stuck with the intelligence, analytical skills, and all the physical effects of prolonged fight or flight response. That's dangerous. In a society that places value on arbitrary things, useless material items, and the lack the understanding and ability to control the contributors to our success, depression is on the rise. While it's being tracked as carefully as suicides because it's seen as less damaging, we can draw some conclusions about it from the suicide rates- all of which stem from depression. Anyone who wants to argue, I can tell you, I've never heard of a person deliberately killing themselves because they were bored, angry, or happy. So Shush.
From what I gather, suicides and depression cases go hand in hand. Suicides typically peak during times of wide spread turmoil. They tend to be higher in locations with fewer opportunities, fewer entertainment options and distractions, and in communities that have a history of being oppressed.
When you have enough opportunities, distractions and stimuli for people, the rate of suicides and, by association, depression drops. In the economic DEPRESSION (I don't care what sugar-coated garbage the economists try to feed us, it was not a 'recession'. It was a DEPRESSION. The unemployment rate was higher than it was during the Great Depression.) suicide rates shot up significantly in rural, remote, and military locations. That's one of the dangers of depression. Our media has tricked many minds into viewing themselves as the problem, making death seem like a favorable outcome.
Suicide isn't the only danger that comes with depression, however. I mean, it's only the 3rd most likely killer of the underemployed, underpaid Generation Y, so it's not that big a deal, right? Ha! But seriously, larger problem associated with depression would be the health effects from prolonged bouts.
Fight or flight, not grow and repair. Your body shuts down things like healing and immune responses. It turns up the dial on things like blood pressure and other things that would help you run or fight in a tight spot. It's like being Wolverine without the healing factor. Except if Mr. Shiny Claws didn't have the healing factor, all those impressive leaps, punches and acrobatic feats would render his fleshy body to a nice delicious meat soup. That's what happens to the body of a depressed person.
The jacked up function of their circulatory system, brain, and vital organs causes them to get SHREDDED. They don't heal as well, so the wear and tear makes happy little accidents like cancer, heart disease, and sudden, acute onsets of dormant conditions and genetic disorders pop up more frequently. So, yeah, depression slowly turns the afflicted into a pain-riddled shell. Oh. Yeah. So, the number 1 and number two most likely killers of Gen Y totally include heart disease and cancer. FYI.
Most people don't realize that depression is a fight or flight response in overdrive or that a genetic predisposition towards it is beyond the sufferer's control, making 'Snapping out of it' impossible. They don't recognize that the person experiencing it is fighting a mental battle against life and a physical battle as their body erodes around them. People don't understand that it's not something you can just turn off and suddenly be happy again. They also don't get that it affects everyone differently. Worst of all, they don't know how repeated statements of 'Just be happy!' and 'Get over it already!' can point the finger at the depressed person and make it seem like THEY are the problem...and cause an unwanted reaction.
But not all is lost. As a person who's briefly fallen into a depression trap and crawled out of it, I will offer some tips that worked for me in my next post.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Rakes on a Train: CTA inappropriateness
Have you ever ridden in a train and something unexpected happened? Maybe it was pleasant and some guy just burst into song. Perhaps it was less pleasant and some teenagers made a fuss on the train or bus. Maybe it was unpleasant and there was a random naked homeless guy dancing in the middle of train.
On CTA, you see it all. There are the regular jerks who are just rude and inconsiderate, using their bags to hold the seat next to them because their ridiculous egos fill more space than the rest of ours. There are people who are trying to make spectacles of themselves for popularity, fame, whatever. There are panhandlers and solicitors who get upset with you for not wanting to buy their things or give them your money. There are the plain crazies who say and do unnerving things and make people's commutes uncomfortable enough for someone to call the police.
All of these behaviors fall in the scope of inappropriate for the train. Take a look at these goofballs who decided to advertise their marriage on the train. What a sad state of affairs that is. Of all the places to walk around with a just married sign taped to your backside, WHY THE TRAIN? Did they expect everyone to pat them on the back and congratulate them?
There's this IDIOT with an EFFING ALLIGATOR on the train. She should be shot for her blatant disregard for National wildlife. That poor baby is far from a sustainable habitat and she's just parading it around like a trophy, grinning. Ugh!
Then a drunk girl who decided that CTA was the best place to practice her stripper moves and get her twerk on! Really, no. I don't want you swinging your legs around me. Even that old guy doesn't want to see that mess. See how he's leaning as far away from her as possible? He's straight up not having any of her crap.
There's also creepy, smarmy and weird catcallers and wannabe players who don't seem to understand that when a woman says no, she means 'No. And get the hell away from me.'. Seriously guys... you shouldn't be hitting on chicks on the train. They are on a mission to do whatever it is they're commuting to. Disturbing them in an already uncertain environment that's loud, full of nasty smells and unpleasant strangers is a good way to get maced.
Homeless fellas just sleeping with it all hanging out and possibly masturbating... I've seen sights like this too much. It's sad. Some of them are genuinely derelicts, slightly insane and oblivious of their surroundings and of social propriety. Others are just shameless, rude sods who want to visit their suffering and hate on other people.
And this creep who thought it was a good idea to run around using a fake boombox as clothing.
People do crazy stuff on the train for attention...and they get it. But all attention is not good attention...and you guys really, really need to realize that. That goes doubly much for you guys here on the internet. Anonymity is not an excuse for being a wicked little turdlet and will be traced back to you. Maybe not now, but someday. Save the shenanigans for your house party. Don't muddle my commute, internet news surfing, or anything else with them. Thanks.
On CTA, you see it all. There are the regular jerks who are just rude and inconsiderate, using their bags to hold the seat next to them because their ridiculous egos fill more space than the rest of ours. There are people who are trying to make spectacles of themselves for popularity, fame, whatever. There are panhandlers and solicitors who get upset with you for not wanting to buy their things or give them your money. There are the plain crazies who say and do unnerving things and make people's commutes uncomfortable enough for someone to call the police.
All of these behaviors fall in the scope of inappropriate for the train. Take a look at these goofballs who decided to advertise their marriage on the train. What a sad state of affairs that is. Of all the places to walk around with a just married sign taped to your backside, WHY THE TRAIN? Did they expect everyone to pat them on the back and congratulate them?
 |
| JUST MARRIED!! ...Just stop. These guys aren't even the first to do this. |
There's this IDIOT with an EFFING ALLIGATOR on the train. She should be shot for her blatant disregard for National wildlife. That poor baby is far from a sustainable habitat and she's just parading it around like a trophy, grinning. Ugh!
 |
| I'm so cool and interesting! Look at my baby Alligator! |
Then a drunk girl who decided that CTA was the best place to practice her stripper moves and get her twerk on! Really, no. I don't want you swinging your legs around me. Even that old guy doesn't want to see that mess. See how he's leaning as far away from her as possible? He's straight up not having any of her crap.
 |
| Really, dude. She's going to kill you.. |
Homeless fellas just sleeping with it all hanging out and possibly masturbating... I've seen sights like this too much. It's sad. Some of them are genuinely derelicts, slightly insane and oblivious of their surroundings and of social propriety. Others are just shameless, rude sods who want to visit their suffering and hate on other people.
 |
| Not this guy, though. He's always asleep on the strain, though not usually with his pants down... |
And this creep who thought it was a good idea to run around using a fake boombox as clothing.
 . |
| I've actually seen this guy on the train- sans boombox and pants. |
People do crazy stuff on the train for attention...and they get it. But all attention is not good attention...and you guys really, really need to realize that. That goes doubly much for you guys here on the internet. Anonymity is not an excuse for being a wicked little turdlet and will be traced back to you. Maybe not now, but someday. Save the shenanigans for your house party. Don't muddle my commute, internet news surfing, or anything else with them. Thanks.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Pay It Forward
Pay it Forward was a trend that I was curious about, but didn't understand. I'd seen the words pop up on Etsy, Deviantart, and a few other craft and art hubs. Sadly, with increased laziness and humanity's increasing inability to articulate itself (despite most entertainment and social networking leaning towards text-based formats), the best explanation of what 'Pay It Forward' was and meant was something like this, "Well, you know. Pay it forward. Like you pay it forward."
I asked several different people who were running 'Pay It Forward' advertisements and promotions on their blogs, art hubs, and Etsy stores. The answer was always something like, "Well, you know. Pay it forward." That's not an explanation! That's a tease. You've disappointed me again, humanity. Why do I keep trusting you to do better??
So, I sort of shoved that curiosity to the side and focused on other things. Since no one knew what Pay It Forward was, perhaps it was not important for me to know either. That is, until one fine literary lady posted a Pay It Forward comment on her Facebook. My reaction: Another chance to ask what the HECK this means! Yes!
So, I asked Ann what does 'Pay It Forward' mean. Being a former English teacher, she was happy to tell me. It's like a chain letter, but instead of forcing people to repost some annoying message in their status for fear of non-existent reprisal, you substitute the gloom and doom for a good deed. The theory is, that if it's handled CORRECTLY there's a recurring wave of good deeds and wonderful surprises that eventually works its way around the world. Ann's Pay It Forward was geared towards crafting. Golly Gee Willikers Batman! That sounds great!
I joined in on her pay it forward...and immediately ran into problems. Apparently, some people equate 'Pay it Forward' with 'Freebies' and are opportunistic scavengers who will not only assert, insist, and berate you until they get their free thing, but they will also belittle it and refuse to 'pay it forward' themselves. You know who you are.
What I learned from this whole thing was heartwarming (I think that was the point of it, actually). By sticking yourself out there and becoming someone's beautiful surprise, you not only enable them to be someone else's surprise, but you boost their self-esteem and motivate them to try and learn something new themselves. I have not delivered all of my Pay It Forward gifts, but the few that I have sent off to their new homes were met with glee and almost immediately a chain began to form.
My gift of yarn became mittens for someone who's always losing theirs, and the money that would have been spent on mittens was spent on supplies to make greeting cards, one those greeting cards was written in and given to an old woman, that old woman got up and made someone some cookies, those cookies were eaten at someone's craft party, the craft party spawned all manner of creations and it continues from there. One, long, heartwarming chain of good deeds. I hope that it continues beyond what I can trace and maybe, it will get to someone who really, REALLY needs an unexpected gift.
I asked several different people who were running 'Pay It Forward' advertisements and promotions on their blogs, art hubs, and Etsy stores. The answer was always something like, "Well, you know. Pay it forward." That's not an explanation! That's a tease. You've disappointed me again, humanity. Why do I keep trusting you to do better??
So, I sort of shoved that curiosity to the side and focused on other things. Since no one knew what Pay It Forward was, perhaps it was not important for me to know either. That is, until one fine literary lady posted a Pay It Forward comment on her Facebook. My reaction: Another chance to ask what the HECK this means! Yes!
So, I asked Ann what does 'Pay It Forward' mean. Being a former English teacher, she was happy to tell me. It's like a chain letter, but instead of forcing people to repost some annoying message in their status for fear of non-existent reprisal, you substitute the gloom and doom for a good deed. The theory is, that if it's handled CORRECTLY there's a recurring wave of good deeds and wonderful surprises that eventually works its way around the world. Ann's Pay It Forward was geared towards crafting. Golly Gee Willikers Batman! That sounds great!
 |
| OMG! For real? |
What I learned from this whole thing was heartwarming (I think that was the point of it, actually). By sticking yourself out there and becoming someone's beautiful surprise, you not only enable them to be someone else's surprise, but you boost their self-esteem and motivate them to try and learn something new themselves. I have not delivered all of my Pay It Forward gifts, but the few that I have sent off to their new homes were met with glee and almost immediately a chain began to form.
My gift of yarn became mittens for someone who's always losing theirs, and the money that would have been spent on mittens was spent on supplies to make greeting cards, one those greeting cards was written in and given to an old woman, that old woman got up and made someone some cookies, those cookies were eaten at someone's craft party, the craft party spawned all manner of creations and it continues from there. One, long, heartwarming chain of good deeds. I hope that it continues beyond what I can trace and maybe, it will get to someone who really, REALLY needs an unexpected gift.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
You Should Be Watching: My Little Pony
Here's a little something for you cosplayers, make-up artists and aspiring airbrush artists. It's also something that was initially geared towards little girls, but unexpectedly acquired a vast male following. I've been told that I'm very 'Imaginative and whimsical' (Sorta makes me feel like a unicorn or something).
So that means I can watch whatever I want. You already know where this is going don't you? Don't judge me. I like ponies and unicorns and all that business. I'm allowed.
In case you haven’t heard about the phenomenon that My Little Pony has become, you need to get on board. Really.
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| I'm an ALICORN!! |
In case you haven’t heard about the phenomenon that My Little Pony has become, you need to get on board. Really.
Origins:
The animation is a remake of an old show used by Hasbro as a
marketing driver for Pony dolls. I remember that cartoon. It was a TERRIBLE show. I'll pretend that I don’t know why Hasbro needed the show to market the
dolls. I never watched it
with any real interest, but I had a ton of the merchandise. And it was MAGICAL. Why? Because I was 6.
This go-round Hasbro hasn't revived the show in order to revive an old toy line. They revived it due to special interest of one Lauren Faust. More on her later.
Characters:
My Little Pony features 6 main characters, each of them representing one of the traits necessary for a successful friendship: Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty and MAGIC! ...Because, why not?
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| Left to Right: Pinkie Pie (Party girl), Rainbow Dash (Daredevil), Rarity (Fashionista/Seamstress), Twilight Sparkle (Bookworm), Apple Jack (Farmer), and Flutter Shy (Animal Lover) |
The cast of characters has a repertoire of quirks, personality flaws, and a lot of consistency. Some people think that's a problem and have said that the characters are fairly simplistic. But really, what makes any successful show successful? A dynamic cast of characters with consistent habits, well-defined personalities, and quirks written together in a way that keeps you engaged. My little pony has all of that and then some.
What I like about it:
First of all, it was created by Lauren Faust. That is, the woman responsible for essentially, all the good cartoons in the ninties... Whether she did the animation, the writing or helped her husband on the side, Faust was involved in tons of projects from Kids Next Door, to Power Puff Girls, and Dexter's Laboratory. There's more, but I can't list them all. The point is, that Lauren Faust remembered how crappy the little girl cartoons were when she was growing up. Girl's cartoons have always been shallow, needlessly fluffy, and not at all engaging. Even little girls fall asleep on them. I know. I was one.
Faust fought for years to make My Little Pony happen. She wanted to make a cartoon for girls. The networks turned her down, claiming that there was no money in making little girl cartoons... until... this show. Which has had remarkable success in all age groups and genders. Think about that for a minute. A show from a genre of shows normally written off as crap has bridged age and gender gaps. Why? Because it's actually GOOD.
Aside from the well defined characters, slick flash animation and engaging stories, I love that My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, has an actual mythos. It doesn't just have its own world mythos, but it incorporates mythology from a variety civilizations. To name a few of them: Egyptian, African, Greek, Roman, and Medieval mythologies are all present. And the show doesn't go half-steam by just tossing in a few critters, either.
The mythology behind them is built into the episodes and the show's mythos themselves. For example, the dragons eat jewels like traditional medieval dragons. The phoenix and cockatrice legends each have an entire episode devoted to them- with continuity in following episodes. The image of the zebra, traditionally used in African Lore to mark a great magician, priest, or witch doctor is presented in the form of Zecora, a zebra, who acts as those very things in the show.
These displays of mind-boggling attention to detail along with the compelling stories and nods to fan interests posted on the net are part of what I love most about this show. It shows that, yes, a cartoon for girls can be a cartoon for all ages and genders AND that you can give fans more of what they want by paying attention and intelligently incorporating their ideas into your storyline. The bronies don't lie.
You can find My Little Pony, friendship is Magic on a number of platforms: on The Hub Channel on Cable and Sattelite, on Netflix, on Youtube, and on DVD. Take your pick. You should be watching My Little Pony. And if you aren't...
Thursday, January 3, 2013
You Should Be Watching: Ruby Gloom
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| From left to right: Ruby, Iris, Frank and Len, Boo Boo, Poe, Skullboy, Misery, Scaredy Bat, Doom Kitty, Mr. Buns the sock rabbit. |
Origins:
Initially, Ruby Gloom was created to help market a line of clothing, toys, jewelry and accessories for goth kids and teens. Typically, shows created for this purpose don't last very long, but Ruby Gloom aired for a full three seasons before Nelvana's writers ran out of steam. It even won Best Animated series in 2007. So why haven't you heard of it? It didn't get much publicity in 2010 on Cartoon Network because it was aired in the early mornings, when no one's awake but parents taking small children to daycare.
Characters:
Ruby Gloom features a cast of characters unlike any I've seen. You have Iris, a daredevil cyclops, Frank and Len, Frankenstein inspired conjoined twins, Poe, a poetry reading crow, Boo Boo, a ghost that prefers to play pranks, Skullboy, a skeleton kid trying to find his true calling, Misery, a banshee with the worst luck imaginable, Scaredy Bat, a bat with a Hindi accent who is literally afraid of everything, even himself, Doom Kitty, a cat that communicates via charades and violin chords, and Ruby, who I think might be a witch given her unusual sewing and crafting skills. Each of the characters represents a different aspect of human nature and flaws and in each episode they learn a new lesson in tolerance, perseverance and personal growth.
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| Hi, There! |
What I like about it:
This show features slick flash animation and uses vectors to ensure that each frame with your favorite character has the right proportions every time. This is a plus for people who might want to adapt different scenes into wallpapers for their computers, phones or tablets. It also makes it possible to recognize who's in a frame even if their tiny tiny. The joy of vectors. I also love the smooth animation that using flash with skeletons allows. Call it a personal preference to the other flash shows they have on the air at the moment.
I also love the characters. They start out pretty mono-faceted, (it's common in a kid's show) but as the series continues, they develop more depth and become more inspiring. Even though the characters all live in a gloomy mansion in the place where the sun never shines, with a town full of spooky, deformed and hateful people with their own pre-concieved notions of what others ought to be doing, and their own catastrophic character flaws, they always roll with the punches. They learn from their mistakes, try new things, and where they fail, they pick themselves back up again- especially Misery. Even though her luck's so terrible that she has perpetual tear tracks down her face and regularly gets struck by lightning, she still maintains a positive mode of thinking despite her dry demeanor.
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| She can still smile this big! |
You should be watching, Ruby Gloom.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Hair Care Part 2: Deep Conditioning
So I mentioned in my last post that I'd take you all on a walk-through of my hair care routine. I'm not feeling up to writing a long, metaphor laden preamble, so I'll get right to it.
It all starts with a comb:
I always start by thoroughly combing my hair.
It helps removes tangles, dead hair, and aligns the hair shafts nicely. This is important because you don't want to FIGHT with your hair while detangling.
The Conditioning:
I start by conditioning my hair. Yes, before I even wash it.
I usually put a 'cheapo' conditioner on my hair right before I got to bed.
When you sleep, your body opens up all its pores. Sleeping with conditioner on your head is an opportunity for your hair to suck in some additional moisture.
I usually put enough conditioner to fully coat my hair from root to tip because, well, my hair's DRY. It needs every drop of moisture. As it sucks in all that extra moisture, it starts to curl quite nicely.
It's even pretty like this, too bad curls are so hard to maintain. I tried letting my hair be itself for a while, but I only managed to keep it neat and cute looking for about 3 days. After I've fully coated it, I put it in a bun, like so.
The Washing:
When I wake up, I rinse out all of the conditioner, which has dried over night. The result is a very lively head of hair. But we are not done. I still haven't WASHED my hair. So, I wash my hair with a mild shampoo, usually 2-3 times, depending on how I feel about it. You know when your hair needs extra attention. If you've been sweating at a gym all week, it needs to be washed THOROUGHLY. You do not want any nasty crap left on your hair when you put the good conditioner on it.
The Second Conditioning:
Remember what I said about using good products to take care of your dry hair's moisture needs? I condition with Moroccanoil intense hydrating hair mask. This stuff is full off all kinds of natural botanicals, healthy oils and proteins for your dry, damaged hair.
It's as thick as vegetable shortening too. If you have less dry hair, or your hair is straighter than mine, DO NOT USE the intense hydrating mask. It will weigh your hair down and make it look lank and stringy. Use the 'light' or 'weightless mask' by Moroccanoil. You'll get all the moisture, but you won't look like you waded through an oil slick.
Moroccanoil is very specific about HOW you should be using their product. On the jar, it states that you should comb the product through your wet hair. DO THIS. I've found that when I just glob it on there, not all of my hair is thoroughly conditioned. In fact, some of it feels just as dry and crusty as it did before. So, I comb it through with a nice, wide-toothed detangling comb, like a good little girl. I let it sit on my hair for 1-2 hours, usually under one of those salon style dryers if I can manage it. Heat helps to open your hair's pores up again and seals in the moisture. In this case, it's a good thing.
The Rinsing:
Finally, I carefully rinse my hair so that I get all of the hair mask out. Then, I gently massage the Moroccanoil oil treatment or intense hydrating cream into my hair as a leave-in conditioner and let it drip dry. My end result is this: shiny, bouncy, waves of curls. Isn't it pretty?
My next post will be about a crafting project. I swear. I've got my mojo back!
It all starts with a comb:
I always start by thoroughly combing my hair.
It helps removes tangles, dead hair, and aligns the hair shafts nicely. This is important because you don't want to FIGHT with your hair while detangling.
The Conditioning:
I start by conditioning my hair. Yes, before I even wash it.
 |
| This time I used Fructis |
 |
| A huge glob of it, but this isn't even enough. |
When you sleep, your body opens up all its pores. Sleeping with conditioner on your head is an opportunity for your hair to suck in some additional moisture.
 |
| But seriously, this is starting to look gross |
 | |
| And I still need more... |
I usually put enough conditioner to fully coat my hair from root to tip because, well, my hair's DRY. It needs every drop of moisture. As it sucks in all that extra moisture, it starts to curl quite nicely.
 |
| Hair, this is what you could be...if you weren't so UNRULY. |
It's even pretty like this, too bad curls are so hard to maintain. I tried letting my hair be itself for a while, but I only managed to keep it neat and cute looking for about 3 days. After I've fully coated it, I put it in a bun, like so.
 |
| And then I put one of those thin plastic shower caps on it so I don't ruin my pillows |
The Washing:
When I wake up, I rinse out all of the conditioner, which has dried over night. The result is a very lively head of hair. But we are not done. I still haven't WASHED my hair. So, I wash my hair with a mild shampoo, usually 2-3 times, depending on how I feel about it. You know when your hair needs extra attention. If you've been sweating at a gym all week, it needs to be washed THOROUGHLY. You do not want any nasty crap left on your hair when you put the good conditioner on it.
The Second Conditioning:
Remember what I said about using good products to take care of your dry hair's moisture needs? I condition with Moroccanoil intense hydrating hair mask. This stuff is full off all kinds of natural botanicals, healthy oils and proteins for your dry, damaged hair.
 |
| Good Product |
Moroccanoil is very specific about HOW you should be using their product. On the jar, it states that you should comb the product through your wet hair. DO THIS. I've found that when I just glob it on there, not all of my hair is thoroughly conditioned. In fact, some of it feels just as dry and crusty as it did before. So, I comb it through with a nice, wide-toothed detangling comb, like a good little girl. I let it sit on my hair for 1-2 hours, usually under one of those salon style dryers if I can manage it. Heat helps to open your hair's pores up again and seals in the moisture. In this case, it's a good thing.
The Rinsing:
Finally, I carefully rinse my hair so that I get all of the hair mask out. Then, I gently massage the Moroccanoil oil treatment or intense hydrating cream into my hair as a leave-in conditioner and let it drip dry. My end result is this: shiny, bouncy, waves of curls. Isn't it pretty?
 |
| Until I bust out my iron comb and straighten it, that is. |
My next post will be about a crafting project. I swear. I've got my mojo back!
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Product Review: Shills Black Mask
A while ago, I was hunting for some sort of remedy to help with my skin's sudden tendency to explode with nasty cystic acne and I stumbled upon a sort of facial mask that peels off and apparently purifies. The product is created and marketed by Shills an Asian beauty company.
Many Americans are insanely enamored with Asian countries and practically scream, "OOOH ASIAN PEOPLE!!" like poorly educated otaku in crappy cosplay.
Knowing this, I was skeptical of the reviews that read like a dating column for a mail order bride instead of detailing an experience with the actual product. But hey. I've got nothing to lose, so I bought a tube.
Price:
With any product one of the first things that folks look at is the price of the item. No one wants to shell out an arm and a leg for something that may or may not work. The cost of the Shills Black Mask was pretty reasonable considering its a facial in a tube. Only about 3 bucks with free shipping.
Appearance:
The outward appearance of the product was pretty basic. An all black box, and all black tube, a slip of paper inside detailing the ingredients in the product and what each of them does.
...Written in Gothic-style type face befitting a horror movie poster. Should I really be using this? Is the real cure for my bad skin or a rabid vampire leaping from the bottle and gnoshing on my neck? Hmm...
Upon squeezing out the product on my hand, I found that it looked a lot like ...tar. It was THICK and I mean thick. I've used peel off facial masks before and all of them have a viscous, sticky texture that dries to a slightly stretchy film. This stuff was in a category all its own. First off, it was BLACK. When you read the package, you expect something that's dark colored, possibly semi-transparent, but no. This stuff is as blacker than the bottom of the Mariana Trench at midnight. It was also VERY sticky, literally strong enough to stick my fingers together. How was I supposed to get it on my face?! ...Luckily I managed, with these results!
Final Review: Well, I didn't experience any extreme skin changes like all the folks posting macro photos of millions of gross blackheads attached to the shills mask, but it was very benificial nonetheless. My skin was SO SMOOTH, my pores weren't as clogged, the blemishes that remained dried up and flaked off, AND alarmingly, my dark spots were a lot less dark. I also learned that you should never get this stuff in your eyebrows unless you want to lose them when you peel it off. My whole face felt like it had been plucked! Ow!
At least I won't have to get my eyebrows waxed now.
Many Americans are insanely enamored with Asian countries and practically scream, "OOOH ASIAN PEOPLE!!" like poorly educated otaku in crappy cosplay.
 |
| But not Sailor Bubba, his Cosplay's ALWAYS Awesome! |
Price:
With any product one of the first things that folks look at is the price of the item. No one wants to shell out an arm and a leg for something that may or may not work. The cost of the Shills Black Mask was pretty reasonable considering its a facial in a tube. Only about 3 bucks with free shipping.
Appearance:
The outward appearance of the product was pretty basic. An all black box, and all black tube, a slip of paper inside detailing the ingredients in the product and what each of them does.
Upon squeezing out the product on my hand, I found that it looked a lot like ...tar. It was THICK and I mean thick. I've used peel off facial masks before and all of them have a viscous, sticky texture that dries to a slightly stretchy film. This stuff was in a category all its own. First off, it was BLACK. When you read the package, you expect something that's dark colored, possibly semi-transparent, but no. This stuff is as blacker than the bottom of the Mariana Trench at midnight. It was also VERY sticky, literally strong enough to stick my fingers together. How was I supposed to get it on my face?! ...Luckily I managed, with these results!
 |
| Looks like Black-Face not a purifying mask! |
At least I won't have to get my eyebrows waxed now.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Prophetic Ducks
You know, I do make things some times. The recent baby surge has inspired me to make baby things. Unfortunately, I have this horrible habit of ...not remembering to take pictures when I get down in the dirty dirty of sewing or crafting. I know, I know. It's a horrible, terrible habit- or lack of habit I should say.
However, I have something else interesting to post that's sort of related. A while ago, my friend Shannon and her husband Tony had their wedding reception- delayed about a year after the actual wedding due to her shyness and to ensure that their first year as a couple was not fraught with financial woes brought on by the fairytale, debt-swarming party most people splurge on. I, the pitiful sod that I am, was unable to make the wedding, send gifts, or anything else as I was unemployed at the time.
At the reception, I made sure to bring them gifts. I brought three gifts, representing their past, present and future together. Something silly and nostalgic to remind them of their long, happy history together (A small sentimental plaque.), something fun and interesting to encourage them to continue to work and play together (A trivia game featuring one of the bands they listen to), and finally, something to make them look favorably upon the future (a pair of handmade sock ducks).
The future I joked about in my card hinted at a dream I'd had when I'd fallen asleep whilst crafting the ducks. I dreamed that I was swimming in a bubbly pond full of fish.
If you've ever had a strange prophetic dream, you'll know that bubbles and fish always mean that there will be a 'new arrival'. Months later, Shannon found out that she was pregnant. My other friends became terrified of my handmade sock animals. No matter how cute they were, they wanted nothing to do with them. Apparently, a gift of cutesy sock critters means babies will happen. It's like I have a super power or something. *eyebrow waggle*
At any rate, I have to finish these buntings and quilts I've been making for my new babies (My cousin went into labor this morning, so there will be another bundle of love for me to coo at.). Hopefully, I'll remember to take pictures.
However, I have something else interesting to post that's sort of related. A while ago, my friend Shannon and her husband Tony had their wedding reception- delayed about a year after the actual wedding due to her shyness and to ensure that their first year as a couple was not fraught with financial woes brought on by the fairytale, debt-swarming party most people splurge on. I, the pitiful sod that I am, was unable to make the wedding, send gifts, or anything else as I was unemployed at the time.
At the reception, I made sure to bring them gifts. I brought three gifts, representing their past, present and future together. Something silly and nostalgic to remind them of their long, happy history together (A small sentimental plaque.), something fun and interesting to encourage them to continue to work and play together (A trivia game featuring one of the bands they listen to), and finally, something to make them look favorably upon the future (a pair of handmade sock ducks).
 |
| BEHOLD! THE PROPHETIC DUCKS! |
The future I joked about in my card hinted at a dream I'd had when I'd fallen asleep whilst crafting the ducks. I dreamed that I was swimming in a bubbly pond full of fish.
If you've ever had a strange prophetic dream, you'll know that bubbles and fish always mean that there will be a 'new arrival'. Months later, Shannon found out that she was pregnant. My other friends became terrified of my handmade sock animals. No matter how cute they were, they wanted nothing to do with them. Apparently, a gift of cutesy sock critters means babies will happen. It's like I have a super power or something. *eyebrow waggle*
At any rate, I have to finish these buntings and quilts I've been making for my new babies (My cousin went into labor this morning, so there will be another bundle of love for me to coo at.). Hopefully, I'll remember to take pictures.
Friday, October 26, 2012
I am so full of angst!
With my jewelry inventory bursting, my Etsy store practically dying, and my need to make room/money, I looked up some boutiques that I could sell my things to. Many of the shops in my neighborhood shut down because of poor sales during the recession. Of course, a lot of these small boutiques were where I would sell off my jewelry items after a big convention. I had a big problem. So I had to search for new places to hawk my wares.
I did what any intrepid Gen Yer would do. I turned to the power of the internet! I found a place called Buffalo Exchange. It wasn't too far, just a train ride away in Wicker Park on the north side of Chicago. There were tons of positive reviews about the place too, so I felt it could be trusted. I packed up my things and headed down there Monday, October 22nd.
I'd called the boutique earlier to get a feel for what they'd be up for buying- to save myself and my back the trouble of dragging suitcases of crap there. The sweet young lady on the phone stated that they would buy old clothes, Halloween costumes, jewelry- pretty much everything- store bought or hand made. Good. She stated that I would get 35% pay out in cash OR 50% payout in store credit. Sounds fair. That's how the merchandise things in big retailers. I was pretty confident that I'd come away with at least $200-$300 if the boutique was as great as people were saying it was online. I lugged my stuff down to Wicker Park.
Now, I'm a smart girl. I know the signs of a struggling boutique that won't give me much pay out. There won't be a lot of people inside, the racks will have tons of 'on sale' or '30% off' on prominent display and there may even be a side show clown spinning a sign outside the shop to lure buyers in. There was none of this at Buffalo Exchange, so I walked in with confidence.
I wish I hadn't.
It took them a long time to look through all of my stuff. A very long time. I brought a lot of stuff, you know. I brought old clothes I couldn't fit, Halloween costumes I was...bursting out of, and a few accessories that I just didn't like any more. Only the good stuff, though. Bringing bad stuff is just bad business. In the end, I came away with about $150 expected cash payout OR a $225 store credit. WHAT?!
I was flabbergasted and I asked the nice ladies if the jewelry I'd brought wasn't trendy enough to make the cut because I saw that they'd heaped up a lot of clothes and hadn't finished going through the jewelry yet. That wasn't the case at all. They loved the jewelry- just about all of it, in fact. They loved the details, every little thing about it.
The issue was their pricing model. They were pricing things that I would sell for at least $60 at a potential retail value of about $30. That's just a little over cost of materials and doesn't even pay for the hours I put into each piece. It felt like someone was offering me $100 bucks for my left kidney. Granted, I don't need the kidney to live, but do you realize that this thing is worth 200 times what you're offering me?
F*ck that noise. I bargained with the ladies of Buffalo Exchange and they were surprisingly amicable about the whole thing. No one got nasty and they understood the situation. They even went back into the system and recalculated the items' worth. In the end, after examination of what they wanted for their store and what I wanted for my work, I came out a little bit above cost of goods sold. That is, for those of you who didn't have to take accounting and finance classes, BREAKING EVEN.
In the end, I came out with about $70 in store credit and $150 in cash. It doesn't sound like a big difference, but in total, that's right in the modest $200-$300 payout range I was initially going for. I would have liked to be paid out MORE, but well, I broke even on my costs and labor and I got a few jazzy clothing items to boot.
Now, I have to get myself ready for another week packed with job interviews. Catch ya later.
I did what any intrepid Gen Yer would do. I turned to the power of the internet! I found a place called Buffalo Exchange. It wasn't too far, just a train ride away in Wicker Park on the north side of Chicago. There were tons of positive reviews about the place too, so I felt it could be trusted. I packed up my things and headed down there Monday, October 22nd.
I'd called the boutique earlier to get a feel for what they'd be up for buying- to save myself and my back the trouble of dragging suitcases of crap there. The sweet young lady on the phone stated that they would buy old clothes, Halloween costumes, jewelry- pretty much everything- store bought or hand made. Good. She stated that I would get 35% pay out in cash OR 50% payout in store credit. Sounds fair. That's how the merchandise things in big retailers. I was pretty confident that I'd come away with at least $200-$300 if the boutique was as great as people were saying it was online. I lugged my stuff down to Wicker Park.
 |
| Image Cred: Broke and Chic.com |
Now, I'm a smart girl. I know the signs of a struggling boutique that won't give me much pay out. There won't be a lot of people inside, the racks will have tons of 'on sale' or '30% off' on prominent display and there may even be a side show clown spinning a sign outside the shop to lure buyers in. There was none of this at Buffalo Exchange, so I walked in with confidence.
I wish I hadn't.
It took them a long time to look through all of my stuff. A very long time. I brought a lot of stuff, you know. I brought old clothes I couldn't fit, Halloween costumes I was...bursting out of, and a few accessories that I just didn't like any more. Only the good stuff, though. Bringing bad stuff is just bad business. In the end, I came away with about $150 expected cash payout OR a $225 store credit. WHAT?!
I was flabbergasted and I asked the nice ladies if the jewelry I'd brought wasn't trendy enough to make the cut because I saw that they'd heaped up a lot of clothes and hadn't finished going through the jewelry yet. That wasn't the case at all. They loved the jewelry- just about all of it, in fact. They loved the details, every little thing about it.
The issue was their pricing model. They were pricing things that I would sell for at least $60 at a potential retail value of about $30. That's just a little over cost of materials and doesn't even pay for the hours I put into each piece. It felt like someone was offering me $100 bucks for my left kidney. Granted, I don't need the kidney to live, but do you realize that this thing is worth 200 times what you're offering me?
F*ck that noise. I bargained with the ladies of Buffalo Exchange and they were surprisingly amicable about the whole thing. No one got nasty and they understood the situation. They even went back into the system and recalculated the items' worth. In the end, after examination of what they wanted for their store and what I wanted for my work, I came out a little bit above cost of goods sold. That is, for those of you who didn't have to take accounting and finance classes, BREAKING EVEN.
In the end, I came out with about $70 in store credit and $150 in cash. It doesn't sound like a big difference, but in total, that's right in the modest $200-$300 payout range I was initially going for. I would have liked to be paid out MORE, but well, I broke even on my costs and labor and I got a few jazzy clothing items to boot.
Now, I have to get myself ready for another week packed with job interviews. Catch ya later.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
You Should Be Watching: RuPaul's Drag Race
There's a lot of stigma about drag queens and crossdressers in general. The majority of the attention is negative. People spend time fixating on the sexuality and sexual identity of the cross-dresser instead of taking professional cross-dressing as the artform it is. And it is an artform.
Before 2009, I had no real experience with professional cross-dressing, or Drag. Sure, I'd watched Too Won Foo, cosplayed as a feminized version of a male animal character and seen the odd older gentleman dressed as a woman on the train, BUT, I knew nothing of REAL Drag. One summer day, I happened to be watching a hilarious comedy on the LOGO channel and saw an ad for RuPaul's Drag Race. I was completely mesmerized by the bronze, golden haired beauty telling me to tune in for reruns of the first season.
Curious, I did. AND I was not disappointed. Now, as I've said before, loads of people get hung up on the fact that Drag is men dressing up as women. But what I got hung up on was the amazing amount of work, prep and artistry it took to turn this:
into this:
My first thought wasn't "Ew! That man is wearing a dress!" It was "Oh wow! I want to be that pretty too! And I want to sew my own high fashion clothes! And I want to be fearless and FIERCE!" And how can you not when you're seeing guys transform themselves into elegant, out-of the box 'women' in the span of an hour?
Just like on project runway and face-off, the contestants have to complete challenges involving strange goals. One episode they had to make garments by incorporating real, off the vine fruit, as accessories. Another required them to create a look inspired by the apocalypse. And in yet another, they had to transform straight guys into drag queens! And don't get me started on the spin-off series RuPaul's Drag U, where they take ordinary women and make them into extraordinary divas, boost their self-esteem and leave them with a new outlook on life.
From these feats and the mind-blowing results, I get inspiration for everything from the hair, makeup, clothes and jewelry. A show about drag queens taught me about plucking and thickening my eyebrows, applying make-up and how to make my waistline look slimmer using nothing but contrasting colors. Each episode has the added bonus of campy jokes and random silliness too.
One thing that has upset me about more recent seasons of the show is how catty the Drag Queens have become. Technically, RuPaul's Drag Race is a reality TV show, but the first two seasons were pretty classy. If someone had a disagreement, they took a break and then came back and worked it out like adults. The second and third seasons featured drag queens outright insulting each other's art and being downright nasty.
If you can stomach the shouting matches, put aside your prejudices and just tune in for one or two episodes, I'm sure you can find a lot of inspiration as well. If you're trying to get creative and find motivation, you should be watching RuPaul's Drag Race. The Allstars season starts next Monday!
Before 2009, I had no real experience with professional cross-dressing, or Drag. Sure, I'd watched Too Won Foo, cosplayed as a feminized version of a male animal character and seen the odd older gentleman dressed as a woman on the train, BUT, I knew nothing of REAL Drag. One summer day, I happened to be watching a hilarious comedy on the LOGO channel and saw an ad for RuPaul's Drag Race. I was completely mesmerized by the bronze, golden haired beauty telling me to tune in for reruns of the first season.
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| I saaaaid, tune in. |
My first thought wasn't "Ew! That man is wearing a dress!" It was "Oh wow! I want to be that pretty too! And I want to sew my own high fashion clothes! And I want to be fearless and FIERCE!" And how can you not when you're seeing guys transform themselves into elegant, out-of the box 'women' in the span of an hour?
Just like on project runway and face-off, the contestants have to complete challenges involving strange goals. One episode they had to make garments by incorporating real, off the vine fruit, as accessories. Another required them to create a look inspired by the apocalypse. And in yet another, they had to transform straight guys into drag queens! And don't get me started on the spin-off series RuPaul's Drag U, where they take ordinary women and make them into extraordinary divas, boost their self-esteem and leave them with a new outlook on life.
From these feats and the mind-blowing results, I get inspiration for everything from the hair, makeup, clothes and jewelry. A show about drag queens taught me about plucking and thickening my eyebrows, applying make-up and how to make my waistline look slimmer using nothing but contrasting colors. Each episode has the added bonus of campy jokes and random silliness too.
 |
| You never know when you'll see this. |
One thing that has upset me about more recent seasons of the show is how catty the Drag Queens have become. Technically, RuPaul's Drag Race is a reality TV show, but the first two seasons were pretty classy. If someone had a disagreement, they took a break and then came back and worked it out like adults. The second and third seasons featured drag queens outright insulting each other's art and being downright nasty.
If you can stomach the shouting matches, put aside your prejudices and just tune in for one or two episodes, I'm sure you can find a lot of inspiration as well. If you're trying to get creative and find motivation, you should be watching RuPaul's Drag Race. The Allstars season starts next Monday!
Monday, August 29, 2011
April 30-May8, 2011: It'll Get Better Soon.
For the next few days, I'd suspended my fears about my condition and waited for it to clear up on its own. It was stress. Nothing serious. I had final papers due for my recreational classes. Even though the classes themselves were recreational, the grades were not. Grades are serious, you know.
I thought that this thing, this strange 'AM only' blindness would go away after I turned in my final papers. There wouldn't be any reason to panic or be afraid. Still, I started researching possible causes and planned to schedule an appointment at the eye doctor's anyway, just in case.
Some of the possible causes were downright scary. Fuch's Dystrophy, a condition that causes the cornea to thicken until you're completely blind. Glaucoma, high eye pressure kills your optic nerve. Macular degeneration, your retina tears off the back of your eye, or eats holes in itself, leaving you completely blind and without much hope.
But, the majority of the conditions I just listed only happen to older people, or people who have a history of problems that I don't have, like high blood pressure. I was doubtful that it was anything that serious. I could be wrong, but it was highly unlikely. If it cleared up after life cooled down, I could just cancel my appointment and be done with the whole thing. No harm done. Just stress.
But... it didn't get any better. Nothing changed, not even after all the papers were turned in and graduation actually happened. I woke up on Mother's day and my vision was worse than ever. It wasn't clearing at all.
All the other days, it cleared up after I got up and started moving around. But, it wasn't clearing up that day. I love my mother to pieces, but I'll be honest. That day, that Mother's Day, when she started rushing me to get ready for church, I snapped at her. She incorrectly guessed that I was mad because I couldn't find my shoes. Shoes.
I think that just made me even more upset because that wasn't the real problem. That was just one thing that I happened to rant about that morning. I realized that I was being unfair by being unnecessarily hostile over the wrong things, so I actually tried to tell her what was wrong.
I couldn't see in one eye. I was bumping into things because I couldn't judge distance as well. I was frustrated because it wasn't getting better. I was angry that it seemed like my life was getting worse instead of becoming this fabulous world of adventure that I had envisioned it would be. I was angry because I'd worked very hard to get through college, struggled, stressed and worried over money and grades for years. Only to come out of the whole ordeal and go BLIND. It wasn't fair! I didn't want to be blind. I didn't have health insurance, so whatever it was, I couldn't afford to get it fixed. Sure, I got money for graduation, but all of the illnesses that sounded remotely like mine required tens of thousands of dollars to treat and screen for. I was terrified and I felt like I'd been cheated out of my entire life. My future was braille, if I could learn it. But, everything I've used to define myself involved crafts, color, and beauty. Now, my future was a formless world of unending WHITE. No crafting, no coloring, no reading, no NOTHING. My future was nothing.
But, I was only able to tell her that I couldn't see out of my left eye. She insisted that I hurry up and get ready for church. Quick, forceful and to the point, like always. I really needed her to listen, not be the resolute Iron Woman that I've admired my whole life... but it was a done deal. My habitual morning slowness had cut me off from reaching her when I needed to.
I was heart broken.
I went back into my room and got ready for church.
I thought that this thing, this strange 'AM only' blindness would go away after I turned in my final papers. There wouldn't be any reason to panic or be afraid. Still, I started researching possible causes and planned to schedule an appointment at the eye doctor's anyway, just in case.
Some of the possible causes were downright scary. Fuch's Dystrophy, a condition that causes the cornea to thicken until you're completely blind. Glaucoma, high eye pressure kills your optic nerve. Macular degeneration, your retina tears off the back of your eye, or eats holes in itself, leaving you completely blind and without much hope.
But, the majority of the conditions I just listed only happen to older people, or people who have a history of problems that I don't have, like high blood pressure. I was doubtful that it was anything that serious. I could be wrong, but it was highly unlikely. If it cleared up after life cooled down, I could just cancel my appointment and be done with the whole thing. No harm done. Just stress.
But... it didn't get any better. Nothing changed, not even after all the papers were turned in and graduation actually happened. I woke up on Mother's day and my vision was worse than ever. It wasn't clearing at all.
All the other days, it cleared up after I got up and started moving around. But, it wasn't clearing up that day. I love my mother to pieces, but I'll be honest. That day, that Mother's Day, when she started rushing me to get ready for church, I snapped at her. She incorrectly guessed that I was mad because I couldn't find my shoes. Shoes.
I think that just made me even more upset because that wasn't the real problem. That was just one thing that I happened to rant about that morning. I realized that I was being unfair by being unnecessarily hostile over the wrong things, so I actually tried to tell her what was wrong.
I couldn't see in one eye. I was bumping into things because I couldn't judge distance as well. I was frustrated because it wasn't getting better. I was angry that it seemed like my life was getting worse instead of becoming this fabulous world of adventure that I had envisioned it would be. I was angry because I'd worked very hard to get through college, struggled, stressed and worried over money and grades for years. Only to come out of the whole ordeal and go BLIND. It wasn't fair! I didn't want to be blind. I didn't have health insurance, so whatever it was, I couldn't afford to get it fixed. Sure, I got money for graduation, but all of the illnesses that sounded remotely like mine required tens of thousands of dollars to treat and screen for. I was terrified and I felt like I'd been cheated out of my entire life. My future was braille, if I could learn it. But, everything I've used to define myself involved crafts, color, and beauty. Now, my future was a formless world of unending WHITE. No crafting, no coloring, no reading, no NOTHING. My future was nothing.
But, I was only able to tell her that I couldn't see out of my left eye. She insisted that I hurry up and get ready for church. Quick, forceful and to the point, like always. I really needed her to listen, not be the resolute Iron Woman that I've admired my whole life... but it was a done deal. My habitual morning slowness had cut me off from reaching her when I needed to.
I was heart broken.
I went back into my room and got ready for church.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Graduation
So, it's now the middle of May and I am officially graduated. That's right. Graduated.
I feel like I should have something inspiring to say, but to be honest, there are a whole lot of people who are 50 times more excited by this whole thing than I am. I should be happy, but I'm not. I should feel relieved and accomplished, but I don't. I don't LIKE this being graduated thing at all. I'm not ungrateful and I appreciate my education, but let's face it people. I NEED A JOB.
For over a year now, I've been applying to jobs online and in person. The results have been dismal. Not only is the search for a job that you're qualified for insane, but pickings are terribly slim. Because things are so lean, if you get called in for an interview, something silly like whether or not you have a car will determine if you get the job. It sounds ridiculous, but it's true. To be hired for a 20K per year job with minimal benefits, they want you to have a laundry list of qualifications, including a college degree and 4 years of work experience. For 20 grand per year. That won't even begin to make a dent in most people's student loans.
I actually had an interviewer ask, "So, how do you plan on getting to the training?" and when I responded, "I'll take the metra or CTA," the interviewer responded, "Well, we really prefer our employees to have a car. To hire someone without a car would reflect poorly on the company."
So, not only do they want to hire a skilled person for something less than a living wage, but they also want you to have a car. The job market is tough, but i need a job.
Do any of you guys have any suggestions?
I feel like I should have something inspiring to say, but to be honest, there are a whole lot of people who are 50 times more excited by this whole thing than I am. I should be happy, but I'm not. I should feel relieved and accomplished, but I don't. I don't LIKE this being graduated thing at all. I'm not ungrateful and I appreciate my education, but let's face it people. I NEED A JOB.
For over a year now, I've been applying to jobs online and in person. The results have been dismal. Not only is the search for a job that you're qualified for insane, but pickings are terribly slim. Because things are so lean, if you get called in for an interview, something silly like whether or not you have a car will determine if you get the job. It sounds ridiculous, but it's true. To be hired for a 20K per year job with minimal benefits, they want you to have a laundry list of qualifications, including a college degree and 4 years of work experience. For 20 grand per year. That won't even begin to make a dent in most people's student loans.
I actually had an interviewer ask, "So, how do you plan on getting to the training?" and when I responded, "I'll take the metra or CTA," the interviewer responded, "Well, we really prefer our employees to have a car. To hire someone without a car would reflect poorly on the company."
So, not only do they want to hire a skilled person for something less than a living wage, but they also want you to have a car. The job market is tough, but i need a job.
Do any of you guys have any suggestions?
Monday, March 14, 2011
Get Yourself Cuffed: The Aftermath
I think that I've been cuffed enough.
Been buried a week in my craft stuff
Sitting around, I've gained some fluff
And now I'm in quite the huff.
My patience is thin; don't call my bluff
Else I'll make sure YOU'RE cuffed enough
Moving on! I'm not actually tired of making cuffs. In fact, I just prepped some more aluminum bands, pleather, and fabric scraps for the next crop of the adorable little things. BUT, I do need a break. I'd just like to stop smelling E-6000 in my dreams. Before I know it, I'll turn into an E-6000 glue mutant, hell-bent on covering the world with sparkles and rhinestones. So, for the next couple of weeks, I'll stay away from the industrial strength adhesives as much as possible.
Before I commit to that, I have something to tell you. I've got commissions and Requests! Several of them! There are a few for members of the Haute Couture Club of Chicago. These gals want some custom pieces to go down the runway with their designs in this year's fashion show. There are a couple for some members of my church (Already finished), and 1 logo design commission from one of my mom's followers here on Blogspot.
After I finish my commissions- some of them include cuffs- I'll swear off the E-6000. I swear it. But, right now, I'm just excited.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Designer Jewelry Rip-off
Everyone's had an experience like this. You've gone into a store, seen something sparkling and beautiful (be it clothing, shoes, or jewelry) and knew in the very depths of your soul that you and it were meant to be! ...Well, I get like this with jewelry designs. I see a component, no matter what it may be and I feel in the very depths of my SOUL that I must CREATE the vision that's dancing in my head.
It is this vision, this ex cathedra specter of the perfect application of your skills and materials that becomes a juggernaut of activity. It moves and breathes from your mind to your heart, and finally to the very tips of your fingers. The power of creation that God gave you blooms fully and completely until...until it spins itself, beautiful and whole out of your sliced and bleeding fingers, leaves you with the joyful emptiness and fatigue-stricken body of a mother after childbirth. And then...you see someone wearing a department store knock off of your vision, a twisted and abhorrent doppleganger of your talent smashed together by soulless machines, it's uniqueness and beauty whored out for the masses at 3 times the price. Your labor of love has been stolen, drugged and pimped out till it's not special any more.
It's a sad thing, but it happens more often than many artisans realize. Just this weekend passed, I visited a few relatives of mine and found that one of them had bought, for $20+ a bracelet that I could have made for 5 dollars, or less. I had all the materials in my bead box, working fingers and more than enough time to complete it for her. Yet, it must have seemed more convenient for her to buy it while she was out shopping. I didn't dwell on it for long, but it did hurt me.
I vowed that instead of allowing myself to get depressed over it, I would do some scouting at these high end department stores that everyone raves about. It was partly to make myself feel better and partly for product forecasting research. It was my plan, actually, to rip off their designs and sell them for half the price. I'd even planned to use it as a means of advertising. Hey! I made the same crap as NORDSTROM but I'll let you have it for $10 instead of $50.
I visited their websites, looked at all they had to offer and realized that my stuff was far less expensive and... THE SAME or better than theirs. It jarred me. In a good way. Instead of continuing to be sad because they had product that was beyond my scope, I was heartened. The song 'anything you can do I can do better' played through my head and I posted some more things on my Etsy. Suck it Nordstrom. You and your 25 dollar bow and pearl earrings.
Dare to compare. I mean it. Visit my Deviantart and Nordstrom's gallery and REALLY compare it.
It is this vision, this ex cathedra specter of the perfect application of your skills and materials that becomes a juggernaut of activity. It moves and breathes from your mind to your heart, and finally to the very tips of your fingers. The power of creation that God gave you blooms fully and completely until...until it spins itself, beautiful and whole out of your sliced and bleeding fingers, leaves you with the joyful emptiness and fatigue-stricken body of a mother after childbirth. And then...you see someone wearing a department store knock off of your vision, a twisted and abhorrent doppleganger of your talent smashed together by soulless machines, it's uniqueness and beauty whored out for the masses at 3 times the price. Your labor of love has been stolen, drugged and pimped out till it's not special any more.
It's a sad thing, but it happens more often than many artisans realize. Just this weekend passed, I visited a few relatives of mine and found that one of them had bought, for $20+ a bracelet that I could have made for 5 dollars, or less. I had all the materials in my bead box, working fingers and more than enough time to complete it for her. Yet, it must have seemed more convenient for her to buy it while she was out shopping. I didn't dwell on it for long, but it did hurt me.
I vowed that instead of allowing myself to get depressed over it, I would do some scouting at these high end department stores that everyone raves about. It was partly to make myself feel better and partly for product forecasting research. It was my plan, actually, to rip off their designs and sell them for half the price. I'd even planned to use it as a means of advertising. Hey! I made the same crap as NORDSTROM but I'll let you have it for $10 instead of $50.
I visited their websites, looked at all they had to offer and realized that my stuff was far less expensive and... THE SAME or better than theirs. It jarred me. In a good way. Instead of continuing to be sad because they had product that was beyond my scope, I was heartened. The song 'anything you can do I can do better' played through my head and I posted some more things on my Etsy. Suck it Nordstrom. You and your 25 dollar bow and pearl earrings.
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| Nordstrom's Pearl Drops for $25 |
 | |
| My Bow Dangles Earrings for $12 |
Monday, December 20, 2010
College
Okay, so, I guess I've never told you how old I am or what I do for a living. I am 23 and I am in college. I am also about to graduate. Technically, I should have graduated a year ago, but silly me, I had my rebellious phase during college and it wasn't against my parents, not really. It was against my school's bureaucracy and the series of events that led me to be a management major.
You see, I didn't want to be in the business college. Seeing my mother wrecking her brains and under heaps of stress every quarter convinced me that I didn't want to work like that. Dealing with the problems that come with doing group work and being 'group leader' in grade school told me that I never, ever wanted to be a manager. I wanted to get my bachelor's in SCIENCE. How else was I going to become a mad scientist? Alas, I'm stuck being just a step away from a dirty politician, a management major. I hate management in the corporate business sense. I'm a filthy Socialist Commy, or perhaps, I belong with the likes of Emma Goldman.
If you've played Dungeons and Dragons, you'll understand this phrase: Chaotic Good with Neutral Good leanings. In other words, I'm a motivator for change, progress and enlightenment, unafraid to work in, around and under your machine with the sole purpose of tearing it down so you can see that it's inefficient. I tear conventions down and find a way to make them better. At the same time, I love to help, even if you're my enemy. I can pity a person who doesn't care if I live or die. I can walk up to a random, injured high school kid after they've gotten jumped on by 20 people, stop them from doing the stupid thing and going after their attackers while dabbing blood off them with my ever-present wet-wipes. I know, I've done it before.
But, I'm not a manager, not in the corporate sense, or even the 'I work for the University' sense. I'm not a back-stabber, a brown-noser, or a cut-throat business person... nor do I ever want to be. It's too easy for people to slip into rationalization as a defense mechanism. I know myself. I do it too. When that guy tried to come through my apartment window, I did the rational thing. I called the police, calmly waited for them to arrive and when all was perfectly safe, a report filed, the window repaired and fitted with new bars, that's when I freaked out. In the business world, danger lurks everywhere. It mixes all of the shark-tank exploits of Wall Street with the jealousies and insecurities that some people never grew out of . The business world is like high school, but with no teachers or parents with enough clout over these grown-up children intent on ruining your life. There's no punishment for bad behavior unless it's truly illegal, and sometimes, not even then.
It would be best for me to be conditioned to that sort of lifestyle and behavior. It would be best and even beneficial for me to become a cold, over-rationalizing human-faced monster. I don't want to be that. I don't want to rationalize my guilts for selling people products that could kill them with the idea that I have 'fiduciary duties'. The other thing I don't want is this economic depression.
Yes, depression. The financial folks don't want to call it that, but we've sunk low enough, employment's in the toilet and no new advances have been made. I don't care if we don't look like we did in the depression in the 30s. People had fewer clothing items, food was cheaper and there were still jobs for unskilled labor. Here, there's nothing.
It's a dead zone if you come out of high school and your family doesn't have cash for college. Heck, it's a dead zone if you do. I don't want to be that kid in the L station with their resume strapped to them front and back, asking for a job.
I don't want to become a vagrant contemplating college as an extremely expensive mistake. I want to feel like I can make a difference in the world or at the very least be happily and comfortably successful at something I enjoy. I want to make my parents proud of what I've done with my life. That's why I fear the day's job market, my own unintentional major, and the negative possibilities that may follow. But, that's part of growing up, right?
You see, I didn't want to be in the business college. Seeing my mother wrecking her brains and under heaps of stress every quarter convinced me that I didn't want to work like that. Dealing with the problems that come with doing group work and being 'group leader' in grade school told me that I never, ever wanted to be a manager. I wanted to get my bachelor's in SCIENCE. How else was I going to become a mad scientist? Alas, I'm stuck being just a step away from a dirty politician, a management major. I hate management in the corporate business sense. I'm a filthy Socialist Commy, or perhaps, I belong with the likes of Emma Goldman.
If you've played Dungeons and Dragons, you'll understand this phrase: Chaotic Good with Neutral Good leanings. In other words, I'm a motivator for change, progress and enlightenment, unafraid to work in, around and under your machine with the sole purpose of tearing it down so you can see that it's inefficient. I tear conventions down and find a way to make them better. At the same time, I love to help, even if you're my enemy. I can pity a person who doesn't care if I live or die. I can walk up to a random, injured high school kid after they've gotten jumped on by 20 people, stop them from doing the stupid thing and going after their attackers while dabbing blood off them with my ever-present wet-wipes. I know, I've done it before.
But, I'm not a manager, not in the corporate sense, or even the 'I work for the University' sense. I'm not a back-stabber, a brown-noser, or a cut-throat business person... nor do I ever want to be. It's too easy for people to slip into rationalization as a defense mechanism. I know myself. I do it too. When that guy tried to come through my apartment window, I did the rational thing. I called the police, calmly waited for them to arrive and when all was perfectly safe, a report filed, the window repaired and fitted with new bars, that's when I freaked out. In the business world, danger lurks everywhere. It mixes all of the shark-tank exploits of Wall Street with the jealousies and insecurities that some people never grew out of . The business world is like high school, but with no teachers or parents with enough clout over these grown-up children intent on ruining your life. There's no punishment for bad behavior unless it's truly illegal, and sometimes, not even then.
It would be best for me to be conditioned to that sort of lifestyle and behavior. It would be best and even beneficial for me to become a cold, over-rationalizing human-faced monster. I don't want to be that. I don't want to rationalize my guilts for selling people products that could kill them with the idea that I have 'fiduciary duties'. The other thing I don't want is this economic depression.
Yes, depression. The financial folks don't want to call it that, but we've sunk low enough, employment's in the toilet and no new advances have been made. I don't care if we don't look like we did in the depression in the 30s. People had fewer clothing items, food was cheaper and there were still jobs for unskilled labor. Here, there's nothing.
It's a dead zone if you come out of high school and your family doesn't have cash for college. Heck, it's a dead zone if you do. I don't want to be that kid in the L station with their resume strapped to them front and back, asking for a job.
I don't want to become a vagrant contemplating college as an extremely expensive mistake. I want to feel like I can make a difference in the world or at the very least be happily and comfortably successful at something I enjoy. I want to make my parents proud of what I've done with my life. That's why I fear the day's job market, my own unintentional major, and the negative possibilities that may follow. But, that's part of growing up, right?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Getting Organized
Sometimes, I could really, really just kick myself. Last Saturday was one of those times. The whole ordeal was...interesting. Oh no, not interesting as in 'Oh wow! So amazing!'. It was interesting along the lines of 'Oh my God, WHAT have I done!??!'. Only with more exclamation points.
Last Saturday... I opted to ... Alright, Moms take a deep breath before I say this. Last Saturday I opted, quite freely to...
Clean. My. Room.
AHHH!!!! OH MY GOSH! ...Yes. I did it.
Well, part of it. I only managed to clean the two worst 'corners'. Do you know what I found? Art supplies. Sketches. More art supplies. Art supply residue (Read: the little fuzzies that drop off when you cut a piece of velvet). Oh, did I say art supplies?
My room, usually looks like a craft store exploded in it. There are random bits of cloth hanging out of bags, tons of unidentifiable UFOs, beads in cases and baggies, boxes of mailing supplies in case I actually have to mail something out to someone kind enough to buy something I post on Etsy or DA, and things I can't really even explain- like the really nice case for organizing beads...that had nothing in it but dust...or that pile of colorized paperclips shaped into ...non-paperclip shapes (Dog bones, cats, little swirlies... you get the picture). I don't know why I have these things...or when I got them, they're just THERE.
So, I dumped out my art cart, drawer by drawer and found the most appalling things. Gel pens I'd gotten in high school, markers that I hadn't known I'd had and subsequently bought MORE of ...dried out, the colored ink crusted all over them, and worst of all..BEADS. I had beads EVERYWHERE. It disgusted me. When I got to cleaning out the art shelf, it was even worse. I never knew that I'd had so many supplies, just rotting from disuse or just how much I'd mismanaged my space.
Still, the hardest part was throwing it away. I kept looking at markers and other things and saying 'I really could have used this...but now it's useless'. It was even worse when it came to the beads, because no matter how many of one kind you have, you can, actually, still use them for something. Still, it was disorganized and sometimes, taking the time to pick through and sort things out makes the whole process not worth it.
In the end, I came away with a new motto! "If it's not in the right spot, I don't have a proper place for it, and the likelihood of me using it in the next year is lower than 40%, GET RID OF IT!"
On that note, does anyone want to chat about buying a Sega Game Gear and some games? What about some Inuyasha and Sailor Moon stickers? Dragon Ball Z Poster?
Last Saturday... I opted to ... Alright, Moms take a deep breath before I say this. Last Saturday I opted, quite freely to...
Clean. My. Room.
AHHH!!!! OH MY GOSH! ...Yes. I did it.
Well, part of it. I only managed to clean the two worst 'corners'. Do you know what I found? Art supplies. Sketches. More art supplies. Art supply residue (Read: the little fuzzies that drop off when you cut a piece of velvet). Oh, did I say art supplies?
My room, usually looks like a craft store exploded in it. There are random bits of cloth hanging out of bags, tons of unidentifiable UFOs, beads in cases and baggies, boxes of mailing supplies in case I actually have to mail something out to someone kind enough to buy something I post on Etsy or DA, and things I can't really even explain- like the really nice case for organizing beads...that had nothing in it but dust...or that pile of colorized paperclips shaped into ...non-paperclip shapes (Dog bones, cats, little swirlies... you get the picture). I don't know why I have these things...or when I got them, they're just THERE.
So, I dumped out my art cart, drawer by drawer and found the most appalling things. Gel pens I'd gotten in high school, markers that I hadn't known I'd had and subsequently bought MORE of ...dried out, the colored ink crusted all over them, and worst of all..BEADS. I had beads EVERYWHERE. It disgusted me. When I got to cleaning out the art shelf, it was even worse. I never knew that I'd had so many supplies, just rotting from disuse or just how much I'd mismanaged my space.
Still, the hardest part was throwing it away. I kept looking at markers and other things and saying 'I really could have used this...but now it's useless'. It was even worse when it came to the beads, because no matter how many of one kind you have, you can, actually, still use them for something. Still, it was disorganized and sometimes, taking the time to pick through and sort things out makes the whole process not worth it.
In the end, I came away with a new motto! "If it's not in the right spot, I don't have a proper place for it, and the likelihood of me using it in the next year is lower than 40%, GET RID OF IT!"
On that note, does anyone want to chat about buying a Sega Game Gear and some games? What about some Inuyasha and Sailor Moon stickers? Dragon Ball Z Poster?
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