M.I.A.

We (being me and whoever I ask, usually Emilie) play this game called HiLow. You talk about the high point of your day and the low point of your day. It has been a bitch of a week and I'm grateful that the only people I work with tomorrow are volunteers because they truly want to be there. I love love love training, don't stop me if I've said this before but, I feel most myself when I get to interact with people in training. It is so fullfilling. I feel good about the contribution I make to this world by the work that I do. I get an unexplainable satisfaction out of going to the hospital and supporting whatever decision a survivor makes, even when that decision is to not have a rape-kit because that is best decision for her and she made it on her own. When I leave the hospital, she is in a better place. I get the joy of working with interns that have enjoyed their work because they say I make the work fun and rewarding: and they really aren't getting paid anything- and yet they come back so, it must be true. I am proud that I stay politically active, especially when it's so hard to do in a red state. I am pleasently surprised that I not only know what I'm talking about- but get taken seriously because I know what I'm talking about.

The Low blow comes when a volunteer struggles through class becuase we talk about things that are so personal to her- as a woman -as a survivor of sexual violence -as a mother, of daughters, she doesn't want any of what we talk about for them. That same difficulty hits me equally as hard when that same suffering survivor from Wednesday attempt suicide on Thursday because her perptrator works with her and she doesn't feel like she has any other choice. Her parents couldn't be contacted while on vacation. It's so hard to keep in mind that my work is meaningful and has an impact when my director frustrates me because she is only an adequet manager and certanly a failure as a leader- if you are going to shoot me down, at least give me alternatives: she offers exactly what she has, which is nothing. If I leave because I can't work with her- I am leaving volunteers, interns, co-workers, and most importantly: my cause- all that dissappoints me to tears. I like the group that I run with politically- with that, I don't think that's wise to date anyone in the group because if it went bad: he would have to leave. That's not fair and I don't care. But if that's the lowest of that: I'm doing good.

I have resigned myself to the idea that I may forever be in the bittersweet struggle because even when it is hard- I find it hard seeing myself not working to change a system that isn't working for everyone.

Could be one of the shittiest pieces of prophetic genius ever!
I have had a frustrating day with my job. The difficulty is: I am married to the cause. This is my passion and there is not a day that I am not grateful that I am not working towards it. When the day comes that there is a roadblock in promoting the greater good- I find myself frustrated beyond words!!!
You are either sharing in the vision or getting in the way- it's just like the movies kids. If you wanna see the picture- don't let someone with a big-ass hat sit in front of you- you move or ask that they adjust. ARRRRGGGGHHHH!
I found the most insightful advice from a mentor: am I going to serve my cause any better by rocking the roadblock? I can't let the roadblock trip me. Ultimately, I am having to learn to let it go when I know in my heart of hearts that it's not the right thing to do. I have to let it go because in working for the cause- I have to work with the cause and for now that means tolerating a decision from a poor manager.

In other news: I am sponsored to go to the YDA conference in San Francisco! Color me excited: pictures to follow. I leave next week.

While looking for the picture of my last birthday cake (WHICH WAS SO-O COOL- who doesn't love WonderWoman?!?) I found this picture. It's saved as: pickyerBUTT. It's unfortunate that it doesn't show up as well on blogger but the top leftish corner where the blue shirt is creeping up. . . yeah- this guy is putting his hand DOWN his pants- is he looking for something? Did he loose something? This moment was captured at a bar some months ago. What prompted me to capture the moment is only explained by finding humor in the odd OR gross!
Additionally, I have left my deposit, not to be confused with what this guy may have left, and application for what will be my new home! I'm very excited- Hopefully I won't be paying the $495 but that's still in the works! I am going to miss Em, I'm looking forward to living in a truly urban area! Nothin' says lovin' like ceramic tile floors! Too add to the super cute-niss, it's a split level with a bedroom/bathroom upstairs and a super-tall pitched ceiling! (no ice-maker, no microwave, no pantry either) Did I mention the ceramic tile?

I pride myself on being introspective. I want to be someone that is never too good to consider something outside of my normal thought processes. Given that- I have no effin clue where some of these thoughts come form.
So London experiences another brutal blow to comfort and normalcy. I once again find myself critically listening to what the news has to say and the one thing that sticks with me is: "They are advising everyone to stay where they are- if they are at work or home, to stay there until there is time to assess the situation."
OK- but what if it's someone's birthday, or anniversary? What if you have somewhere you have to be because someone is expecting you or needs you? What happens when you just can't get there?
It was weird because I remember on Sept11th (<-- yes, all one word this day-in-age) that it was Emilie's first semester in Indiana and I was gonna drive my happy-ass up there if she needed me to because I couldn't stand the idea that she was comfort-less. I know she had family there and things were really fine it was just uncomfortably cautious.
Today is Kathryn's birthday. I believe she turns 30. I think she is where this thought process came from. I miss the fun and family feeling that she and Aaron accomodated. I know I miss her, them, that feeling of what I can only describe as family. It makes me happy to look back on good times and sad to think that one would miss any of that because they simply couldn't get home!

I know she won't like this picture but it's not really all about her- now is it!?!
This was us coming home from Vegas'n'Cali and we were draggin' some serious ass- because we had more fun than 2 people can have!
It pains me to know that we won't be living together in this apartment for much longer and that we won't be living together much longer period. I'm moving to urban and she's moving to solitude.
I know that I've gushed about Emilie before- I know I will again.
She is -and has been- the single most dependable person in my life. She is my touchstone, and no- don't be durdy: not that kinda touching!

It's the strangest comfort knowing that we don't have to live together to have a place in each other's life.
I don't think many people have that.
So the short version to a long story is I'm moving to the big city to be the urban-ite I aspire to be.
I started this entry and I realized that this apartment has such a history. I feel compelled to want to leave it with better karma than I had initially brought into it. I have slammed so many doors out of anger her that I feel the need to send the doors to a day spa or something. It has however been 3 months since any slamming of any kind has been done and I think the doors will take my more peaceful existence as repayment.
I have learned a valuable lesson recently- that love and frustration can co-exisist. I can love my job, freinds, family, insertsomethinghere, and still find myself frustrated from time to time with them. Peace is not the absence of conflict. I think peace is a reconciliation at the end of the day that tells you not everything has to be resolved. You don't have to be freinds with your ex, you don't have to like every part of your job- you only have to find yourself between the love and the frustration- hopefully, closer to the love.

I was so saddened to hear about the bus/subway bombings in London. It's a rough start when you hear about carnage first thing in the morning. It makes me question my purpose- What the hell am I doing? Is any of this going to make a difference when we can't even refrain from trying to hurt each other? My god- there were nails, NAILS!, in the bomb- this whole thing just hurts my feelings!
Then, in true GoodMornin'America fashion, they move into what kind of impact this will have on the opening of the stock market and whether or not there were any American's killed/injured.
So yes, tragedy be damned- we need to know if the market is going to perform according to schedule!

Today's word of the day that is emailed to me:
bucket shop n 1: a gambling establishment that formerly used market fluctuations (as in securities or commodities) as a basis for gaming *2: a dishonest brokerage firm

'Eff the Wedding' is a salute to good choices made by a woman choosing not to marry a bad, not to mention short, man!

When good men go bad, good women get drinks. It was a good day when Amy decided not to marry the guy that was a bad choice. Amy is young, cute, smart, and now- available through the miracle of nothing more than a polite, "fuck you" as she finds herself NOT marrying. So when the day comes around that would have been their blessed union- we celebrate singlehood with nothing less than mexican-food and shots- food to drown any possible sorrow and shots to build confidence.

I have come to appreciate the bittersweet virtue of making the decisions that are hard on the heart. It's hard to do the right thing (sometimes it feels so selfish). It's hard to be reminded of the right thing that hurt not only you, but others. It's a tough day when you look back and see that the decisions made were painfully sharp then and at best, are a dull more subtle pain now. I found this picture and I'm looking at Amy and she is, for now, having a good time (LIQUOR HELPS). Yet, I know, better than some- that when it's quiet, and you're left with your thoughts about how it went, what could have been and whether or not it was the right decision- that pain becomes a reminder. I just hope she remembers: just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love with all they have. Ultimately though, that doesn't mean you have to settle, that doesn't mean you are unlovable.