For Grandpa on his 80-somethingth birthday

Dear, Grandpa

I want to wish you the happiest of birthdays. I'm pretty sure you're 82 this year, but not sure enough to put it in the title. I feel so lucky to be your granddaughter. I hope you have many more years, or as many as you want, of good health and happiness. Thanks for being so great. I love you.

Having Her Cake And Eating It Too

For me, making big decisions has always been a struggle. When faced with them I usually panic for a few minutes and then try to come up with a way to choose both options. For example: Do I get a dog and forgo my freedom or cling to my freedom and sacrifice companionship? Do I relocate to a place I don't want to be for work or do I stay where I want to be and remain unemployed? I've only found an answer for one of those things. And yes, I now have the companionship of a wonderful dog, but I also have my freedom. Before I figured this out, there were many well-meaning naysayers who tried to encourage me to preserve my freedom by saying nay to the whole thing. But there was someone very special who said yay: The lovely and amazing Alia Dumonde. She encouraged me to do exactly what I wanted and I did. And now, she continues to say yay to everything.

She has managed to do what many think would be impossible. A little over six months ago she gave birth to an amazing baby boy. Alia has always been a wanderer, a gypsy. As soon as she became an adult she pretty much hit the road. She lives for adventure. And now, with her partner and baby packed inter her (dodge) caravan, once again she's mobile. Alia is the most attentive yet relaxed new mother I have ever seen. Her and Michael love that baby more than life, and the life they have created suits them perfectly.

Today is Alias birthday. I'm so glad she was born. We need more people like her on this planet who show us that it's possible to have your cake and eat it to. Happy Birthday Alia! Thanks for being you.

Fighting on.

The other day I had a brief conversation with my Mother. She encouraged me to go to school and learn some sort of marketable skill because my long streak of unemployment has her concerned.

"But I don't like school and marketable skills aren't very fun." I told her. Yesterday I passed this on to my very dear friend.

"Maybe she's right." She said "You should stop trying to be right and just conform."

Perhaps I should fill you in: You see, K through 12 was a nightmare. I had a little trouble grasping information in the way it was presented to me, so I fell in and out of special ed while my social life hit various peaks and valleys along with it. When I was not in special ed -which was eventually called alternative school- my grades hovered in some grey area between C- and D+. So my options for college by the time I graduated were slim. And I didn't want to go anyway. Now I realize that those who don't conform and go on to higher education become homeless.

Last night I entertained the fantasy of becoming a teacher. I imagined standing in front of a fourth grade classroom working out a complex word problem on the board. You know the one: Little Jane has no income; she spends $22 a week on dance classes and $4o a week on groceries. How much does she have left to spend on dog food?

A little girl raises her hand "I don't get it." She says

"What could I do to help you understand it better?" I ask her. In that moment I'm able to go back in time and repair my own damages by helping out a tiny me. It's perfect!

I immediately went online and found a nice little one year program at the U of O. I clicked on the 'apply' button and skimmed through the requirements: A high school GPA of at least 3.0. Shit. I then went on the community college website and looked at the programs.

''Hmmm....Do I want auto mechanics or retail management?"

After thinking about it all night I decided to fight on. I'm going to continue breaking molds. I'm going to become one of the few undereducated people to have some really great job or I'm going to be the prettiest and most charming homeless person ever to hit the streets.