searchaliscious
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Work work work
Allergy season is asbolutely terrible. Allegra was 60 dollars. And doesn't really work. Nothing really does, but I take it anyway.
I wish I was back in California. Beautiful weather. And water. And sea lions. And concerts in the park.
Does anyone want to come over and clean my apartment? I will pay you. Really, I will. I can't get myself to do it. By the time I get home work and school I just want to relax with my honey and my doggies. And eat. Oh how I love to eat........
Looking for somewhere to take a Zumba class with my aunt....any suggestions?
I start working at Ruby Tuesday soon. Now everyone can come visit me and leave me big tips! :)
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Schoolz for foolz
Brandon and I went shopping this weekend. I bought a ton of new clothes (yay payday). It is funny how new, cute clothes can boost my self esteem.
Wore white shoes today and stepped in mud. This is what I get for wearing cute shoes to work when part of my job is moving families into their new homes. Moving furniture across a slanted yard is not made any easier with cute shoes.
Okay, time to start paying attention...
:)
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
work, school, work school work.
Work is...work. Its long, happy, sad, tiring, exciting--all at the same time. I'm struggling with staying professional, as some clients are have made their way into my heart in ways that others have not. I have to constantly remind myself that I have been able to help so many families, that the ones that I cannot help should not overshadow all of that goodness and happiness. Still, how is it fair that one family can be helped, and the other cannot? How is it fair that this child over here gets to go home and sleep in his very own bed, but that one over there has to share the floor with his brothers and sisters in a family friend's small apartment, as their family is "too large to accommodate" at any of the shelters. Our emergency assistance department is able to take 5 names a day to help with utility bills, but we get 300-400 calls a day.
Why is this the way things are? This makes my heart ache.
Although I struggle to stay positive at times because of the sadness I see, I remind myself how lucky I am to have grown up in the home that I did and to have the most amazing family anyone could ask for. There are no words to explain how lucky I feel.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Pigeon
Love that a pigeon just landed on our windowsill. Wonder if it would have flown in had the windows been open!
Feeling so lucky and loved after today's events.
And that is all that I really have to talk about lately...
Monday, May 10, 2010
Happy Momma's Day!
"Oh!!! I might have to use this for something else."
Monday, April 26, 2010
another day another dollar
I miss my friends. I miss the drunken/irresponsible nights that came so often with college and with living in Columbia. My rush to graduate and find a full time “big girl” job is now baffling to me and I often wish I would have taken the Van Wilder approach instead. Though I enjoy my job and the paychecks that come with, this whole full time, wake up at 7AM every morning is not as relieving as I think I though it would be. And while I love our new apartment that provides the convenience of living in walking distance to almost everything, I still miss Columbia and the drink specials that allowed you to spend only 10 dollars on drinks for the entire evening, and then 10 more at the beloved Diner that just happened to be owned by an old man that adored my grandmother that passed away when I was still in high school.
On another note, I went to the city market with Mamaw and Mom yesterday. None of us thought it would be open and were just driving by to make sure, but to our surprise there were tables full of fresh fruits and vegetables and little shops that offered some of the most darling merchandise. I wish I could put into words the love that I have for my mom and for Mamaw, but over the years I’ve come to realize that that will probably never be possible.
On another another note, Brandon and I watched “The Lovely Bones” this weekend. I expected it to suck, but (of course) I had to watch it just to see my Marky Mark for a good couple of hours. While the movie was much better than I thought it would be, it made me realize how badly I don’t want to die. After finishing the movie I thought about that in depth, about what would happen to my body, my mind, and my soul once I’m dead. After a while I began to feel sick to my stomach and decided that since I’ll never know for sure until that time comes, I might as well not worry over it at this point. Still, it is disheartening when one realizes that they are not invincible, and that anything could happen to any of us at any moment. Something anyone who has ever lost or almost lost a loved one can understand.
Well, I apologize for the jumpiness of this entry, and also for the morbidity—but cut me some slack, it’s Monday. And we all hate Mondays.
Friday, April 23, 2010
bomb diggity
Happy Friday!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
rain rain go away
Rain. And I wanted to ride my bicycle today.
I want to explore.
So many things, places, avenues, ideas.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Sputnik
This is a quote from one of my three favorite books, all written by the same author. I think everyone should read his books. He helps you appreciate good literature, the diversity in relationships, and true, real, deep, and sometimes disturbing love. I'm re-reading this one and I am even more appreciative than before.
I have some of the strangest memories of my childhood up until high school. Most are random, mediocre things that happened, pointlessly remembered. I remember sitting at the dinner table with mom and dad (before they were divorced) and having steak and crinkle-cut French fries. No vegetable (weird for my mom, right?). I had dad cut the steak (something he did for me up until probably a couple years ago—through if I asked him to cut my steak for me tomorrow, he would without the slightest bit of hesitation). I shoved the steak chunks to one side and the fries to the other, and filled the middle of the plate with as much ketchup the place would allow. And that is it (though I’m sure mom told me not to use so much ketchup). I don’t know why I remember those small, insignificant details. I suppose that is just it though—this memory seems so pointless, but it has a place in my past, my life, my brain, and for some reason it has always felt special.
Maybe just because I never forgot.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
L O S T
Nothing to post other than that, really. I need some inspiration. . .
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
o. m. g.
TGIF. Seriously.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
you know i like my chicken fried
-My Client (this wasn't directed toward me, by the way)
This is most definitely, without a doubt, going to be what I say to anyone that ever hits on me/flirts with me (including Brandon).
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
spirit in the sky
I heard a story today from a lesbian couple that broke my heart.
The conversation began in an odd way and I did not expect it to lead into the story that was ultimately told. I was visiting a client in her home. This is a routine part of the process that occurs with every client, after a month or so being in their new homes I visit them just to “check in” and see how things are going. This particular client had company at the time, her niece and her niece’s partner. I don’t quite remember what brought up this question, but her niece asked me:
“What church do you go to?”
To be honest, I hate being asked that question. Though I’ve been a member of the same church since I was very young, I go very rarely, and two weeks ago was probably the first time I’ve gone since Christmas Eve in 2008, and Mom and I even snuck out early that night so we wouldn’t miss too much of the family Christmas Eve party (one of my absolute favorite annual events). So although I always have an answer to that dreaded “what church do you go to?” question, I cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt when I give the impression that I am an avid churchgoer. What if I said “I don’t really go to church”—what would their (and by “their” I don’t mean this couple, I mean people in general) response be? Would they judge me (even though the bible says God is the only one that can judge me)? “What church do you go to?” seems simple enough, but it is truly a personal question—I wonder how many people really want to ask “Are you a Christian?” or “Do you believe in God?”
So, this couple began telling me their story. They had been attending a church (the church’s denomination I will keep private) for two years. They were actively involved and enjoyed the services, until the pastor’s wife said they could no longer be involved in the church because they were lesbians—and homosexuals go to hell (this was after lectures and what not).
Why is it that they think the homosexuals are going to go to hell? Is it because the bible says so? Well then, why isn’t the divorced woman or the divorced man going to hell, too? Why are they allowed to be involved in the church? What about the women that gossip and speak poorly about their neighbors? Doesn’t the bible say something about them, too? I don’t ask these questions to argue against someone’s faith, or someone’s beliefs, but in the hope that someone will be able to provide answers. . .
Monday, April 12, 2010
insert catchy title here
A week into the move I can honestly say that it seems like we will in part succeed at keeping the place cleaner than the last one, however next month I may have to admit that we were silly to even think that. As for the classy décor, well, we are having some issues with that. Brandon has two pieces of “artwork” (in quotations because that is what he would like to call them—not me) that he insists on putting on the walls.
The first: a rectangular piece of cardboard (literally) with four colored sections—green, maroon, orange, yellow. On each section is a big black and white head of a monkey with giant headphones on.
The second: A van with a bunch of shit in it sitting on a beach. This one is in a huge, old, wooden frame. Apparently this has some sentimental value to Brandon and one of his friends. For some reason, I can probably deal with the van picture, but the monkeys—oh how I hate the monkeys! I’ve expressed my concern for the classlessness of the two pieces, and I ask for a compromise of choosing only artwork that we both like, nothing that he detests and nothing that I detest (and I so, so, so do detest the monkeys) but he insists on both pictures because, well, to put it simply: he just likes them.
So, what do I do? Do I give up the battle and place both pieces of “artwork” on the walls, or do I stand my ground (and by “stand my ground” I mean beg him to put them under the bed or back at the old apartment)? Should I just suffer through the monkey’s menacing eyes and the color scheme that will match nothing? Should I offer something (like what?) in exchange for getting rid of the pictures? Is there any sort of fair solution to this dilemma?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Dad...
A veteran that is very, very ill. A kind, sweet man—but when he actually finds a place to live, he has difficulties paying his rent because he has to decide between paying rent and buying medicine. A mother that can’t afford to go to the doctor because she needs to buy diapers and food for her children instead.
The Kansas City Free Health Clinic serves people that have no health insurance. They have over 900 doctors and nurses and pharmacists that volunteer with them. The demand is so high that they turn away around 200 people each week.
So, those of you (Dad J) who are against the health care reform. What do you suggest? I respect your feelings and beliefs regarding the reform—but do you have any better ideas? What do we do about these people? Do we just block them out of our minds and let them fend for themselves because we are lucky enough to have a roof over our heads, three meals a day, and health insurance? Is health care a right only for those that can afford it?