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.

Giving Up

Happy new year everyone! Is anyone out there making resolutions this year? Or as I like to call it, grand dreams that are crushed by the weight of your own lazy ass? This is the first year that I'm doing absolutely no reflecting, no goal setting. In previous years I've gone to bed around ten thinking of all the ways that I suck and how, by tomorrow, I'm going to change into the person I think I want to be. The list is as follows: Go to the dentist, write every day, find a spiritual life, stop eating sugar, read more, find a real job, watch fewer movies and become a better belly dancer. So far I've become a better dancer and now, when I do eat sugar my throat hurts, but I still eat it. I've come to realize that I always just do exactly what I want whenever I'm good and ready to do it. I still have all of my teeth, my eyes aren't pixelated from the amount of movies I watch and I seem to be doing fine with out 'God' or anything. It feels so good to let go and just give up. And once you drop the things that aren't serving you, you make more room for good things. When I dropped out of film school six years ago I woke up every morning feeling so free and weightless. The following year I traveled alone for my first time and it was the best decision I had ever made.

Forgive me for what I'm about to say: In 2010 I urge you all to quit something. Think long and hard about what you want, your likes and dislikes and then storm into wherever and sing your resignation from the belly of your soul, send a cowardly e-mail, eat some cake or just stop showing up. Just remember, there's no shame in being a quitter. Good luck.

Update

My Darlings,

I hope that you have all come up with some great tools to cope with my absence. I know it's been tough but you'll thank me later. I just wanted to tell you that nothing has happened since we last communicated. Just the same old shit only now it's Winter. I've been thinking about getting a sweater for my dog. What do you think?

My Summer Vacation

Did you miss me friends? I missed you too. Over the last 3 months I've spent my time forcing tourists into diabetic comas, therefore I hadn't the time to cater to the literary needs of my fans. I'm sorry, but some of us actually work for a living. During my work I learned a few things: The most annoying customers are either women, asians or senior citizens. It's a terrible thing to say, I know. And it's wrong to lump people into categories and judge them, but they should have thought of that before they decided to be jerks to me. Before they came in 15 minutes before closing saying "you don't have anything left." To which I should have replied "Well, you must be a glass half empty person." Or "Do you have anything without calories?" Or "Could you cut this in half because I'm not going to teach my children to share." And then they don't leave a tip. My favorite customers are young men. They love everything that's edible and show wonderful enthusiasm and always put whole dollars in the tip jar. It's nice.

So some stuff happened and then I got a dog. She's a retired service dog I got from a shelter. She has had 3 litters of puppies and can't be spayed because she'll die. But that's okay. She's so special. She sometimes howls for no reason and she loves to play soccer. When you talk to her she looks you in the eye and tilts her head from side to side. I'm pretty sure that means she understands so I talk to her a lot. Last night I asked her if she wanted to sleep in the bedroom with me or the living room and she got up and went to the bedroom. She's so smart. I love her very much.

Well, that's about all. Really, nothing else happened. But I'll let you know if something does.

The Nervous Chuckles That Never Come

     I haven't really bothered to ponder social niceties until just now. Last year I was walking to work and someone I knew stopped and offered me a ride. 

     "Do you want a ride or do you want to work off some of that extra chub?" He shouted out the window of his truck. I paused, mostly from shock and to allow him a moment to chuckle as if he had  just made a joke that I didn't get. 

     "I'd love a ride. Thanks." I said. Even in the car, nothing. No 'I was just kidding about that, you look great.' Nothing. I imagined that he realized what he had said when he went home and felt really bad. Because quite frankly, I know the feeling.

     So last night I was at a bar with a couple of friends and a guy I didn't know. There was a lull in the conversation and I began fiddling with the sugar packets, trying to make them fit in the container perfectly. 

     "They're too fat." My friend said, noticing my new found obsession. 

     "Kind of like your thighs." Said the other guy. There was silence.

     "Were you talking to him or me?" I asked. 

     "You." He says. Again, I wait for the nervous chuckle, but it never came. I tried to think quickly of some bullshit eating disorder story to see if maybe he might regret it a little, but I was just too shocked. 

     The thing that confuses me is that I'm not chunky enough to be considered a fatty, but I'm not skinny enough to where it might be used as obvious sarcasm. I'm really confused. Do some people not know that it's rude to insinuate that someone is fat in this country? Later my friend suggested that this person was just a little off and didn't pick up on social cues. But this is two people in the span of a year, both times on my dinky Island home. Is it the Island that does this to people? And why me? There is a plethora of other things to be picked at. Why fat? All I know is that confusion comes in all shapes and sizes. But seriously, What the hell was that about?