"Aren't you worried?"

I won't pull any punches--I live in a reasonably rough neighborhood.  I've never had any trouble personally, but the Dairy Queen a block away got robbed, and the laundromat, liquor store, and Dollar General two blocks away got robbed around the same time.  There's a bullet hole in my living room window.  Let's just call it colorful, shall we?

I work in what would be considered an even rougher neighborhood.  Ironically, once you cross the railroad tracks on the way to my office, the houses get more rundown: porches sagging off of houses like droopy smiles, plastic tacked to windows in a futile (if it's anything like my place, it's futile) attempt to keep the heat from escaping the old windows, cars that have seen better days next to cars that look so good I'd be scared to drive them...

People ask me:
"Aren't you worried?"
"Don't you feel nervous?"
"Don't you get scared?"

In a word: no.

I've never had any trouble myself.  Sure, there was the time last summer when police swarmed the house behind me, shouting at the person who was hiding in there that they had guns drawn and they wanted them to come out. (The windows were open...)  I would suppose that was the closest I've been to "scared" and even then, I wasn't.  The police would be utterly foolish to risk everyone else around that house; they would say something if we were in peril. (at least I'd like to think they would?)

Besides, what would being worried, nervous, scared do?  Not much.  Am I cautious?  Yes, that would be the word for it.  Aware of my surroundings?  Yes.  Prepared to drop things, kick hard, and scream loudly?  Yes, yes, and absolutely.

Frankly, I'd be cautious anywhere I lived or worked.  I'm a woman.  I'm a slender woman.  I'm a fairly easy target for someone who really wanted to do some harm.  So does it matter where I live or work?  No, not really.  Yes, statistics might put me at more risk some places more than others, but what good is living life in fear?

It's easy to look at a place or neighborhood and compare it to what you know, and fear the unknown. And that's where the fear lies--in the unknown.  It's easy to look at the end result of an underlying problem and make a snap judgement.  It's easy to look at a particular part of town and not realize why things are the way they are.  People look at the crime, and the grime and the poverty and don't remember (or know) why.  (two major plants closed in the 80s which laid off hundreds of workers and decimated the town economically--and it's still recovering.)

It's easy to do all those things--and a lot harder to do something to change the way things are.

I kind of enjoy where I live and work--it's a new perspective in my life that I might not have had otherwise.  Instead of looking at it as something to fear, I'm embracing it for what it is--a chance to see things the way others might see them.

You could even say it glows.

I have to admit it: I am a little bit vain.

It's funny, I don't have any body image issues, not really--I guess my teeth could be a little smaller (I got my dad's big teeth), my knees could be less bony, I could be less clumsy...overall, I can't say that there's a whole lot I fuss over.

Except for one thing.  My nose.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I "hate" my nose.  I strongly dislike my nose--at times.  Well, maybe most of the time.  Okay, a lot.  There are a lot of times I look in the mirror and think "Ugh, my nose."

Surprisingly it's not because of the size (though it is a smidge bigger than I think suits my face, but not that drastically).  I don't really have a problem with the size of my nose for the most part.  It's a little pointy, but not drastically so.  Overall, it's a perfectly functional nose.

No, it's not the size or shape of my nose that frustrates me.  I could probably be okay with that.  What frustrates me is the color of my nose.

I can hear you now:
Wait, what?  
Yes, the color of my nose.

Isn't your nose, well...nose colored?
Sometimes...but mostly no.

What other color could your nose be?
How about BRIGHT RED??

...oh.
Yeah.

Most of the time, and without makeup, my nose is RED.  I don't even mean a little bit flush.  I mean bright, noticeable, "I could be Rudolph's understudy" RED.  It's like a giant arrow sticking out of my face that seems to scream "LOOK AT NOTHING ELSE BUT MY NOSE!!" (on the other hand, I guess nobody would look at my cleavage?)

Sometimes it calms down a bit.

But then I get happy/excited/worried/stressed/silly/tipsy/tired/hot/cold and I'm ready to light up the night sky.

Officially, quite a while ago, I got diagnosed with rosacea after years of people saying "What's with your nose?" and my stock response of "I don't know...it just gets red...sometimes..."  I initially got a cream for it, but I was supposed to keep it in the fridge.  I did, but keeping it in the fridge meant I didn't really put it on. Oops. And of course my insurance has changed so there's no way I could afford to do that again, at least not right now.

I'm starting to get better at the art of nose camouflage.  I think I've tried it all--covering it lightly with green face spackle (it seems), covering it a bit heavier with green face spackle (not great) with powder on top...layering powder and cream and concealer on my stupid, stubborn nose.  Oh, and it hates to have anything stick to the end.  There is one spot that just usually refuses to let anything adhere to it.  Of course it is at the very tip of my nose.  Of course. 

Honestly, it isn't even really about vanity at this point.  One of my goals for 2014 was to try to look more professionally, which meant stepping up my makeup game. Success!  I definitely look much more polished and put together and "let's hire her"...able?

The problem with trying to cover my nose is that as of yet, I have figured out how to cover it--but I haven't figured out how to KEEP it covered.  It is very, very easy for me to make one wrong move and suddenly I've got a Rudolph tipped nose.  It screams LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME!!

Oh, aren't you overreacting a bit?
No, I'm not.

I've gone in the bathroom several times to see that I have CLEARLY rubbed off the makeup on my nose in a way that is very obvious and very distracting.  Do I suppose anyone would say anything?  No, people aren't impolite.  Am I probably the only one who notices or cares?  Probably.  But I look and feel less put together.  I stop focusing on things I should be focusing on and start focusing on "how can I make my nose look natural again?"

Oh, jeez.  That's not such a big deal.
Well it kind of is, because once I'm done with my placement in June, I gotta find some other job, and I gotta look good doing it.  If I have a bright red nose, it's going to distract people away from how great I am.

Oh.
Yeah.

The upside of this is that, FINALLY, it seems like I have found the right product to get the right amount of coverage for my nose without spackling green stuff all over it.  It Cosmetics Bye Bye Redness.  It's a silly name.  But I'll tell you, it seems to work.  Oh, was I worried about buying it.  I had a coupon, but still, that price tag--$32?!?  That's outrageously overpriced for my budget, coupon or not!

However, the reviews were pretty outstanding, and considering what I had spent on several things that didn't work, I bit the bullet and bought it...and I really couldn't be happier.  For one, a little dab will do you--seriously, I think I'll be using this for all of 2015, if not into 2016, so if that's the case, it's worth every penny.  It covers pretty well with the rest of my face, and if I put too much on accidentally, I can just smooth it into my red cheeks (which are not nearly as bad as my nose!) and everything looks fine.

The only thing I haven't figured out is how to keep the damn thing from smudging.  I did my face this morning, put on my shirt, and there goes part of my nose.  That might be my 2015 goal--find something to lock my nose into place to stay nose colored all day long.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention my night cream.  It seems to be doing a decent job of keeping the redness at bay, as far as I can tell.  I'm not entirely sure, honestly, but I'm not going to stop, either.

Part of me thinks I should just let it rip this time of year and play up my Rudolph inclinations...work with what you've got...but I just can't.  I've worked too hard at covering it up the rest of the year.  It seems a lot of trouble to go to for something that probably seems silly to a lot of people (including you!).  But I can't say enough about how much better I feel about how I look.  I don't catch people looking at my nose, which makes me blush, which makes my nose get redder...

I'm a lot happier looking in the mirror and seeing myself looking back.  So I suppose I've gotten a little vainer--but who wouldn't?  My nose looks like a nose! How could I not look?  It's exciting!  I'm not drawing attention to myself for anything else but how awesome I am!  That's fantastic.  It makes me feel so good!!

Now if I could just figure out how to stop my profuse winter perspiration in time to save myself the trouble of endlessly washing sweaters and freezing with clammy armpits, I would be unstoppable!

...well, at least my nose looks normal. :-)

Death, I barely knew ye.

Two people I knew died yesterday, for completely unrelated reasons, in completely different circumstances.

The first one was a surprise--a high school classmate, out of the blue.  That makes three of us gone from the class of 1998, which I suppose from a statistical standpoint is pretty good; there was about 120 of us.

The second one was, unfortunately, not a surprise in the least.  Someone I worked with about 15 years ago was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer many years back.  It had been a very, long, slow process.  He really gave it all he could, but in the end, the cancer won.

It may sound cold, but here it is--I have no strong feelings either way about either of them.

No, hear me out here.

The classmate--well, we weren't close in the least.  He existed outside of what was even my small circle.  He had that long haired Metallica shirt wearing thing going on, which was a foreign concept to naive me, and which would label him as a loser in some circles, I imagine...I remember being horrified and fascinated with every Metallica (and their ilk) shirt that he wore.  What on earth was all that horrific imagery about?  How was he so mellow, and even cool with wearing that around?  He seemed like a nice enough guy, I just didn't really know him that well.

The former coworker--jeez, that was a hell of a long time ago.  I haven't even seen him for a good ten years or so.  He was a fun guy to work with, I remember.  He had a good sense of humor and was a prankster (though I never really was in on jokes, if I recall).  I was stunned when I found out years ago that he had been diagnosed; he was so young! (he's not much older than me, which is funny because when I knew him he seemed SO much older than me--but then again, I was 19.)  And honestly, there is a great sense of sad relief that he is no longer suffering (trite as that statement is), because he was there at the end.  Cancer is a real bitch.

But I have no strong feelings about either of them.  And that is totally okay.  I am not going to sit here and publicly declare how tragic it is and how much they meant to me and how much I am going to miss them because...I'm not.  I'm sad, yes, absolutely.  The guy I worked with had a baby he and his wife weren't expecting a couple of months ago, so now here is a tiny baby who doesn't get to spend his first Christmas--or any Christmas--with his dad.  And my classmate's family has to cope with this sudden and unexpected loss at what is normally such a happy time of year.  THAT'S what makes me sad.  THAT'S what makes this tragic and unfair.  That's worth being sad over.

I'm not going to make a bigger deal out of this than I feel--because that isn't the right thing to do.  I feel sad for their families, their friends, their colleagues, the people that truly knew them and cared about them and genuinely loved them.  I couldn't piggy back on their very real grief and sadness and great sense of loss because that isn't how I feel.  I have no right to feel that way and it would be very exploitative and navel gazing and selfish to publicly mourn about how lost I was going to feel without them and how they were such an important part of my life and on and on...

So let me be clear: this is sad.  I am sad.  It makes me hard stop and think about my own life in perspective.  My classmate was still too young and my former coworker's tiny son does not deserve to grow up without his dad, and his wife doesn't deserve to suddenly be a single mother.  And their families don't deserve to celebrate the holiday with big pieces of their lives so freshly missing.  I suppose really, that's who to be sad for--not the people who are gone, but the people who are left behind.

On being a jerk as a form of self-reflection.

We had a gift exchange/Secret Santa here at work today.  I won't go into the meat of things, but it ended up being a very lopsided exchange.  I inadvertently directly exchanged with the same person and while I got her some nice stuff, well...it didn't quite go both ways, which was disappointing.  I mean, it's not like I'm hard to buy for.  I like owls.  I like purple.  I like plants.  Boom.  Easy.  But anyway...

At first I was only minorly irritated, but then the more I sat here and thought about it, I got angrier and angrier.  I did something I really wouldn't normally do (or at least I'm trying to make a habit of not doing) and I vented on Facebook. (which I did eventually delete once I figured out the underlying reasons for my feelings.)

I'm really trying to be a more positive person, but in a way, it was not a terrible thing to be a total jerk and have people chew me out.  It helped me pinpoint where the source of my anger was directed--at a situation that came up this time last year, that really hasn't gotten resolved, not truly.  The feelings of feeling unimportant and an afterthought after doing something nice for someone--I thought I had pretty well dealt with that some time ago.  It wasn't remotely the same situation, but somewhere it felt the same.

This happened when I went to training in November too...something completely, and I mean COMPLETELY unrelated to the actual matter triggered something I couldn't quite put my finger on, until everything crumbled around me and I lashed out at someone. (who very graciously accepted my apology once I could explain what happened)  But at the same time, I wouldn't have probably had that thought process, nor really faced the fact that there were unresolved feelings I hadn't paid attention to.

So did I learn from that situation?

• I like rules.  
• Ideally, rules should be followed.  
• If they aren't, that tends to irritate me, especially if others aren't following them.
• Just because I think something is resolved, it probably isn't.
• I really am not a bad person just because someone thought I was--that was about them, not me.
• I should really try to step outside of things if I can tell I'm getting frustrated.

Okay, then.  What can I learn from this situation?

• Sometimes I am too generous and selfless.
• It's not necessarily bad to be that way, but if I am going to do so, I can't go all in or else I'm going to be sorely disappointed.
• I need to know where to draw the line at when it comes to that sort of thing.
• I really shouldn't take it personally.
• Perhaps this situation (Secret Santa) is really just not necessarily my strong suit when it comes to these kinds of things BECAUSE of these inclinations.

But there's a bigger lesson to be learned from both of these situations: breaking negative patterns is HARD.  

I have really 

(really!) 

tried to critically and as objectively as possible evaluate myself and what I do and tried to break negative patterns of thought and action.  For the most part, I'd say I'm not doing too bad about 95% of the time.  I'm definitely in a much better place in life, for sure.

BUT.

Sometimes, and I don't mean it, I'm just a flat out jerk.  I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself--we're all jerks now and then--but considering the negative patterns I'm trying to break out of, when I'm a jerk, I can be a real jerk.

(okay, I'm pretty over the word "jerk"...)

Point is...it would be one thing to be a...that person...and continue to be that kind of a person and never learn or change from it.  And honestly, not all that long ago, I probably would have held on to that feeling and let it simmer and blow up and do it all over again and never learn a thing.  I wouldn't have tried to take a step back and look at the situation and admit any sort of fault whatsoever; I would stubbornly try to keep moving forward the same way without apology--or with an insincere apology.

These days, when I'm...(let's go with "rotten") a rotten person, I certainly initially have those simmer moments which sometimes settle down, and sometimes blow up.  Sometimes they go away on their own, which is SUPER!  But simmer or blow up, either way, at least I can point to myself and say

"Man, I was a real jerk*.  I sure was wrong; how can I avoid doing this again?"

I suppose the lessons worth learning are never learned easily, are they?

*I really had to stick to the theme here, much as I was tired of using the same word over and over again.

They say nothing in life is free...they're right.

I just went through an experience so vexing, I have to blog about it, even if I am trying to maintain a decent level of positivity in this blog.

I'm putting together a brochure for my youth leadership/employment program.  I was (finally!) given the green light to rename the program to

Adolescents
Learning
Professional
Skills
(ALPS)

so to Google I went to look for some attention grabbing stock images of mountains and mountain climbers to punch up said brochure.

...do you know how LONG it took me to find ANYTHING that didn't require signing my life away, or paying a king's ransom (not even exaggerating) to use ONE picture?  ONE!!  ONE!!!!!!

I'm in non-profit here, people...I don't have hundreds (!!) of dollars to spend on pictures!

Now I'm not saying that photographers don't deserve something in return for their work...but for goodness sake, if I give you 501 (c)(3) documentation, don't you think you could do me a solid and just let me use A photo for my tiny little program?

THANKFULLY, after a looooooooot of searching, I FINALLY found https://unsplash.com/ which has nice big photos of various things...granted, I had to scroll

For. 
Ev. 
Er. 

to find a picture that was even remotely relevant.

BUT IT WAS FREE SO IT'S OKAY.

At some point, I have a blog about football and female consumerism, but since I found my "needle in the haystack" picture, it's time to write some copy.

Forwards, backwards, neutral...

Over the weekend, after I got back from training, I had the same thoughts it seems like I have every time I get back: have I changed?  Am I a better person?  Am I becoming a better person?  Am I looking towards the future?  I reached out to my Facebook friends to ask, because that kind of a question has a tendency to navel-gaze.  To my immense relief, I’m not wrong, they see it too.

Looking forward, changing…so then what do I do?  I go to my old work Christmas potluck.

KUNI has their potluck every December, and everyone is invited.  Yes, everyone who has ever had anything to do with KUNI at any point in time is invited to come.  I last worked there four years ago, which, all things considered (har har) seems like a lifetime ago.  Four years ago was before Starbucks, which is what I did before I started doing this.  It was a life time ago, really.

Man, I loved that job.  I really wanted to stay in public radio.  Working there was like working with family.  Everyone really cared about each other (even if some people drove others nuts and vice versa) and it was always a positive environment.  But I moved in with my significant other, and I started at Starbucks, and I just couldn't keep working there anymore.  I wrote my boss a two page resignation letter.  I sobbed doing it.  I really felt like I was leaving the best job I’d ever had.

Considering how I spent the last four years working, it was really paradise compared to Starbucks.  Ugh.  I won’t spend any more time on that than I need to.  I've gone to the KUNI Christmas potluck whenever I've been able to, because it’s a little like going to see family and it’s very positive.  This year was really no exception, it was good to see everyone, they were glad to see me, they were glad to hear how I was doing, vice versa, etc.

I left with mixed feelings.  I was glad I went, no question.  But it certainly was a little sobering to think about the four year difference between when I worked there and now.  I turned into a pretty lousy person working at Starbucks.  It was soul sucking and thankless and really pretty terrible.  And I was a pretty terrible person, too.  Not because I wanted to be, but because that’s just how it went.  And unfortunately, being a really terrible person stuck in neutral didn’t do me a lot of favors for myself or for others.

I find myself sitting in my office thinking about what I wanted then and what I want now.  What’s different?  Well, I don’t do the same thing anymore, obviously.  I’m four years older.  I am definitely a better person, even though I went through a very long period of being Not A Better Person.  Different people have different roles in my life now compared to then.

What’s the same?  Well, I think I still want a lot of the same things: I want to be happy (or in this case happier, since I am already happy).  I want to do something fulfilling (and I am).  I want to spend my time with people I care about and love, and who care about and love me.  Do I still feel the same way about that now as I did then?  (I've gone through many circles of thought on that one, but I think I do.)

I want to keep moving forward, to keep making myself, and everyone around me, and everything around me better, but I don’t know how much from the past to hang on to, to take with me forward.  In that case, how do I determine which is which?  Do I take the things and people that will definitely carry me forward?  How do I decide what that means?  Do I take the things and people who might carry me forward?  How about the ones I’m not sure of?  Am I expecting anything of anyone that I might not expect of myself?

There are so many things I feel so certain of, and so many others that I have no idea about.  I’m not sure if the questions are the same, or the things I’m questioning are the same.  I don’t know.  I just wish the questions—or the answers—were a lot less fuzzy.

And I wish I could take the afternoon to try to gain some focus, but back to work it is.

From the rebroadcast of American Top 40 this morning

Maybe it's idealistic, but it's idealistic I could get on board with.

Desiderata - Les Crane: http://youtu.be/2yNJaKF9sXA

It creeps up on you, man.

If you don't already know, I'm in a branch of AmeriCorps called Public Allies: that's really a whole other blog post to explain, I'm just going to talk about something I realized with this last training that I just came back from.

Most of my fellow Allies are a fair degree younger than me.  That's to be expected, most of the time in just about any situation I've been in this is the case.  It's never a big deal, I certainly never feel 35 in the least 99% of the time.  I still look reasonably young for my age.  I don't feel awkward or like I don't fit in to the group because of age or anything like that.

This was our third in person training.  For our trainings, we go to Boone to the YMCA Camp, and it is AWESOME.  Middle of the woods, fires, friends, Mike (the awesome Y Camp staff/honorary Ally), learning, laughing, it's an amazing experience and every time I go and come back I come back a little bit better.

But.

Or maybe I should say, Butt.

I've now been there three times, and every time I get there and think, "Oh crap.  Not the chairs again."

I'm skinny; it is what it is.  Probably the worst part of being skinny is I. Have. No. Butt.  I often speak of the best way to make me talk about anything: put me on a hard chair and I'll say anything.  ANYTHING!!!  Just give me a cushion to sit on, dammit!!

"What of the floor?" you might say.  Well, since it IS camp and we ARE in the middle of the woods, the floor is carpeted, yes--but it's industrial carpet.  Flat.  Hard.  Not Comfy At All.  BUT, occasionally slightly less uncomfortable than the hard plastic chairs.

I figured out that if I sat on the floor, on my hat, it wasn't so terrible--terrible yes; but not so much so.  However...I was sitting on the floor, making an entirely futile attempt to find a comfortable spot (HA!) when I felt something shift slightly and then a...

Well, I don't know what to call it.  A pinched nerve?  Something out of joint?  A pulled muscle?  All I know is that my body was calling FULL STOP on me sitting that particular way that never bothered me in the least before.  I moved carefully, quickly to minimize the damage, and it eased up and I was okay.  I did that exactly one more time when we were down there.  I NEED TO REMEMBER TO TAKE A SPARE PILLOW.  Nobody will judge me for having no butt.

The other thing that happened was that I (for some stupid reason, even though I knew we'd be outside) didn't wear my winter boots, which I sure could have used.  I keep forgetting to take care of myself, of my toes, so they don't get as cold--they'll get cold, that's no question.  We were in the woods building survival huts out of branches and leaves and oh lord, no leaf lined shelter, warm and cozy though they may be, could keep my toes safe if I was stuck out there in the elements.

As I said to someone, it's hard to remember to take care of myself, that I am not as young as I used to be.  Am I old?  Oh lord, no.  Am I as young and limber and full of pep as I used to be?  No.  Do I still have a bony butt?  Yes, yes I do.

It was a fantastic two days though, but it was also nice to come back to have dinner with the dude, a nice hot shower (I could have showered there, but eh, it was just one overnight) and now I'm snuggled in bed with the cat and my handy dandy back massager on my poor old spine...

It sneaks up on you, that age thing.  It's slow, but effective, and real, but not entirely awful.

I got to meet an owl tonight.

Their eyes are so big, there isn't as much room for their brain, so they aren't really very smart, and without their feathers they are the size of a normal bird.  Fascinating.

*fanfare*

Well, here it is, folks.  I've been told I should blog, and I'm open to suggestion, so even though I've flaked these sorts of things off previously, I'm gonna give it a go again.

...not right now, though.  I've got work to do.  Ever tried to build a program for youth?  Or rather, I should say rebuild a program for youth.  I took apart the pieces, blew them up, and now I'm trying to glue them back together.  Oy!  So for now...I'll be over here with my glue and research.