Obfuscated Iconoclasm

Deftly defying convention- a how-to

The Activist In Me

I am not an activist.  I say this because I do not take part in any sort of “activist” activity at the moment, nor have I ever had any inclination to do so.  While I’ve always loved Gandhi’s message, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”, my main mode of change has always been to arm myself with information and make conscious educated decisions that first do no harm.  After that, I determine what I think is best and live my life according to that belief.  My naive expectation is that everyone will do the same and the world will then do exactly what I want because everyone is always thinking about how they can best please me.  I kid, I know that’s a naive assumption but I do not have the emotional energy or tolerance to make other people change, even if it is for the better.

Not having enough emotional energy or tolerance is the main reason I am not an activist but there is another determining factor.  I believe that if something is broken, it should be fixed post haste so that we can all move on.  I am a fixer.  And, to me, a lot of what passes for activism today is talking ad nauseum about X issue and ignoring the fact that, while talking is good, it rarely effects change in any measurable fashion.

If I am unhappy with something, I fix it, I change it, to the best of my ability, and then move on, secure in the knowledge that the old way has been subsumed by a new and better way.  I may complain while I am in the midst of forcing a change but that is different than just complaining.  And that is what a lot of activism amounts to today; seeing something that you see as an injustice and then complaining about it to anyone who will listen.  We all listen to those people who stop you on the street to talk to you about deforestation, right?  WRONG.  No one listens to them, we simply ignore them and go about our lives and NOTHING CHANGES BECAUSE EVERYONE IS STILL ATTEMPTING TO DISCUSS THE ISSUE.

At some point, you have to stop and think, is endless complaining making anything better?  And in case you’re not sure of the answer, the answer is ALWAYS no.  Endless complaining is annoying as all get out and makes people more likely to ignore you.

It’s no wonder that if endless complaining results in being ignored that change rarely happens from talking.  No, change happens when YOU change.  If you’re worried about deforestation, only buy things made out of Forest Stewardship Council certified or reclaimed wood.  If you’re worried about pesticides, only buy organic, from sources that you have personally researched (I cannot stress this part enough) to make sure that they live up to your ideals.  There are so many actions that you, personally, can take.  There is no excuse for endless talk and no action.

I myself have rather strong feelings about the health of our planet.  As a result, I have modified my buying habits to only support companies which I have personally vetted to determine if they live up to my (high) expectations.  While it’s not always feasible to do this, things like cost can get in the way, I can proudly say that 95% of the companies I buy from live up to my ideals regarding how I believe our planet should be treated. Whether it’s from a production company or an organization like Out of the Closet that resells used stuff (instead of putting it in the landfill) I make conscious purchasing choices.  This means that I am largely only supporting companies that not only believe our earth is valuable and needs to be protected but that also take that ethos and apply it to their business models and their own lives.  It’s a model that bears a remarkable resemblance to a boycott.  Rather than frame it in the negative and give companies I loathe any sort of publicity (even bad publicity is still publicity) I choose to simply find, research and ultimately buy from companies that I believe make changes in how the fundamental structure of our culture works.  If someone asks me about my chosen companies, I will happily evangelize and what people notice is that I am not just buying from companies that effect change, I buy from companies that effect change through their business practices and make a great, long lasting product (I told you I had high standards.  I figure if I’m going to pay for something, I might as well pay a little bit more and get everything I want in the bargain.)

Ok, maybe what I was really trying to say at the beginning of this post is that I want the definition of activist to be refashioned because I am an activist in the sense that I actively effect change when making personal choices.  So let’s stop talking about the issues and start living the issues.

Make your choices count.  Tell me in the comments what you do to make the world change for the better.


Rewriting the Self

Ok, let’s be very real and confessionary for a second.  In the last two years, I have lost about 60 pounds.  Part of me is really thrilled with this fact because it’s great to accomplish something, even if you didn’t really mean to.  The other part of me is very feminist-y and she, while burning her bra (can you blame her?  Bras are not strictly comfy wear), sits there and rails against the assumption that everyone who is fat (yup, I said it, what of it?  The word fat, in and of itself, carries no value judgement, it simply remarks on the composition of a body) SHOULD be thin or even can be thin (for full disclosure, I am not thin.  I likely never will be as my boobs suggest that my body, while small, is designed to have ample padding in certain spots.)  I am with the feminist in me 100% in thinking that thinness does not equal- health, reliability, responsibleness, desirability, hard working, or any of the other assumptions that people make about thin people.

But I am in the minority (a vocal minority; I’ll give you other blogs to visit re: the fat debate at the end) in thinking this.  The thinking is so pervasive that studies have been done that bear these anecdotal results out.  And as someone who was/is fat, thinks about these issues, and generally wishes the world would remove its collective head from its collective ass re: thin vs. fat value judgements, what I am about to talk about is, in part feeding into the whole negative view society has of people of size (I love this term because EVERYONE is a person of size, likely different sizes but they’re all still sizes and if philosophy has taught me nothing, it is that if something is true with modifiers, it is nonetheless true.)  But as I think about these issues and have wordily spelled them out for you and hopefully made my personal position clear, I am going to soldier on.

So, why am I thinking about the size and shape of my body?  Because it is largely a new size and shape and I am still getting used to dressing and living in it.

The new shape I have is different, not better or worse, but decidedly different from my old shape.  It is a more exaggerated collection of convexity and concavity.  It is more obviously muscle-y (I have thighs of steel because I am actually a mesomorph.  Here’s a description and there are links at the bottom to endomorphic and ectomorphic body types: http://www.cavemenworkout.com/physiology/95-10-physical-characteristics-of-a-mesomorph.  It’s not the greatest but it gives you some indication of how easily I build muscle.  I haven’t done anything more than some yoga and lots of walking to build legs that have been described as looking like a modern dancer’s.)  All of these things have resulted in a realization that to fulfill my ideal of style, I have to dress in an entirely new way.  Out have gone the t-shirts and pants and in have come leggings (to show off my legs, duh!) and dresses and tunics.  And, in acquiring all these new clothes, I have had to relearn what clothing sizes and shapes even mean in relationship to my new body.  This has resulted in a realization that clothing sizing is so horribly biased and skewed that they literally mean nothing and manage to discriminate towards a substantial portion of the American population.

Clothing sizes, in the US, are not standardized.  They are in several European countries, just FYI.  As a result, in the US, I can wear a size small in one article of clothing from one company and an extra large in another item from another company.  However, even intracompany, I cannot necessarily wear the same size across the board.  Because that makes sense.  But because I can wear “straight” sizes (“standard” sizes XS-XL) I can wear pretty much anything my little heart desires.  Lots of dresses please and thank you.  When I was larger the ability to wear a range of sizes was the same but the OPTIONS that came in those sizes were severely limited.  And this is where we get to discrimination.

Exercise clothing is the new everyday clothing.  Women wear yoga pants everywhere but yoga.  And as long as you wear “straight” sizes, you have a plethora of options.  Should you want to wear yoga pants in a non-standard size, however, you will have no such luck (Go here: http://flyingpigapparel.wordpress.com/about/ for one of the few options.)  There are precious few exercise clothing companies that cater to people of size.  So the long and short of it is, we want people we deem overweight to exercise but we refuse to give them the tools to comfortably do so.  While exercise clothing is the most egregious offender, that mindset, that if you are larger you don’t deserve a variety of clothing choices is pervasive in the clothing industry.  Karl Lagerfeld, the famed designer at the couture design house Chanel, once remarked on Adele of the angelic voice, saying that she had a pretty face but was too fat.  Now, Adele has won a boat load of Grammys, sold millions of records, is generally beloved by millions, and has a gorgeous, lush, Ruben-esque body and Karl Lagerfeld, whose design house decidedly does not cater to anyone shaped other than a toothpick, chose to take everything positive about Adele and ignore it, reducing her worth to being directly connected to the size of her body.  And, lest you think that Karl Lagerfeld is a lone voice, take a look at any fashion house or clothing store and they may not be flat out saying it but they are obviously designing under the assumption that the amount of attention and care a woman should get is directly tied to the size of her body.

And to that I say, fuck you clothing companies.  Our worth, as women, is not based on anything having to do with our bodies and acting as such is hugely discriminatory and generally asshole behavior.

You thought I couldn’t make some random post about my body into a feminist call to action to demand respect and consideration as women, whatever our bodies look like?  Ha!  Proved you wrong didn’t I?

If you wish to educate yourself further on the issues facing people of size (and remember, we are all people of size), here are some sites that I think will help to that end:  danceswithfat.wordpress.com, blisstree.com (they took KL to task for his comment), xojane.com (check out the writers Marianne Kirby and Lesley Kinzel), therotund.com, virginiasolesmith.com/blog.

Let me know what you think in the comments.


Forays Into Modern Living

Up until 10 minutes ago, I didn’t have a Twitter account.  However, due to circumstances beyond my control, i.e. modernization, I faced the facts and got a Twitter account.  I even tweeted.  While my computer and I are connected at the hip, that is about as far as I go with integrating technology into my life. Perhaps it’s the Luddite in me that believes that having a little bit of non-technologically mediated time is an absolute necessity.  How that Luddite is even conscious after the beating she’s taken from the realization that job hunting is a new and far less polite animal due to technology, I don’t know, but she is.  She’s currently pouting because necessity overrode desire.

So, ladies and gentlemen, you can now find me on Twitter @HapticAnimal and, as we have agreed, I will write fun things if you don’t hound me about being rather sporadic in my tweets.  Also, ask me questions that I can answer on Twitter because otherwise I am at a loss as to what to tweet.

Catch you on the flip side.

Intuition for Dummies

So, yesterday we discussed, briefly, my sun and moon astrological signs.  Just to recap, my sun sign is Pisces and my moon sign is Scorpio.  One of the biggest things for both signs is emotion.  And one thing I have found that comes along with emotion is pretty spot on intuition.  I may not understand or read people very well but if you give me a second to ponder, I will usually produce a spot on assessment of what’s going to happen next.  I’m also always right on an objective level (as in, I’m not the only one who knows I am right.  People learn, usually after the fact, that had they listened to me, it would have turned out the way they wanted.  But they didn’t listen to me and so now it’s all fuckered up and has to be fixed.  LISTEN TO ME AND WE CAN AVOID THIS IN THE FUTURE.)

But back to intuition.  I had been chatting with a guy online for an hour, tops, when he invited me on a date, that night, an hour’s bus ride away.  My intuition said do it! and I did.  I stayed the night at his place and we’ve been friends ever since.  As much as it pains me to admit it, I have internalized some societal standards, such as never sleep with someone on the first date.  But then I ignore them and everything turns out great.  If I hadn’t ignored them I would have remained alone, in my apartment that night instead of seeing a great band play the most amazing music and hanging out with someone who’s pretty awesome.  This is one of many examples where I listened to myself and got something great as a result.

When it comes to N, I spend a lot of time listening to my intuition.  He’s not really a sharer, at least not to the extent I am, i.e. he shares a normal amount whereas I over share and think that’s normal, thus skewing my perception, and so I don’t necessarily hear every one of his thoughts (probably a good thing as two people with no filter getting together would likely cause the world to implode.)  Yesterday, with N very distant, I wanted, desperately, to assault him with my versions of caring, concern, and questions.  My intuition told me this was a very bad idea and I needed to wait until he was ready and since my intuition has a history of being right, I followed its instructions, much as it pained me.  And lo, last night N and I talked.  All of my questions were answered without my having to ask them (less work for me!)  And it seemed to do N some good as well.  There are still some questions to be asked but they had to wait until after he found out the answer so I will likely find out tonight.  But my intuition says its good news.

Non sequitur:

Today I meet up with my childhood best friend, whom I haven’t seen or really spoken to in over a decade.  I’m weirdly excited and nervous.  So much time has passed and I wonder what we will talk about.  I wonder if we will get on as well as we did in middle school.  We were thick as thieves back then and I still remember a sign that was on a desk in her house, which said, “only those who are left handed are in their right mind.” or something to the effect.  If you get the joke, good job, if not, here’s the explanation: people who are right handed have the left hemisphere of their brain as the dominant hemisphere.  People who are left handed are right hemisphere dominant.  Left hand, right mind, get it?  Also, she is left handed.  Anyway, that is a very random and distinct memory I have of her.  I also remember the day I first got glasses and my mom took me to her house so I could show them off.  I was AMAZED at how colorful the world is with correct vision and was super excited to SEE.  Now glasses are old hat, we both live away from our hometown, I just finished grad school, she works for an activewear company… there is just so much that has happened to both of us in the intervening decade.  Is a few hours enough time to recap it all?  Even just my highlights will likely take the better part of an hour and if this blog has taught you nothing, I am rather incapable of telling a short story (am I using that expression right?  I think so but when I read it over it made no sense.)

I have an hour and a half before the fateful meeting, I have butterflies in my stomach, and am not sure how to keep myself occupied.  So much happening, and if my horoscope is right, more exciting things will happen for me this month.  And if anyone is morbidly curious, here is the site I use to tell me what the stars have in store for me: astrologyzone.com.  Go and read your horoscope and then tell me what it says.  Tomorrow we’ll have breaking news about my art job.

A Two Parter, Part II

Now that I have thoroughly depressed you, I’m gonna try and make you smile through the tears.  Let me just cue the laugh track…

I’m 28.  Two short years away from 30.  Chronologically speaking, I am neither young nor old.  Practically speaking, in terms of the age I present as, I am about 5.  Hear me out before you decide I’m crazy.

I love candy to an unreasonable degree and seem to be able to withstand extreme consumption.  I think tutus and pixie wings (I am *thisclose* to making a pair for myself) are viable clothing options.  I occasionally pretend to be a ballerina and I spend a lot of time day dreaming and then bringing those dreams into reality, which is awkward.  I smile randomly as I walk down the street, amused by a joke I just told myself.  My inner life is as rich if not richer than my outer life.  I love laughter, absurdity, and taking over the world.  And the fact is, I still have many of the habits I had when I was still in single digits.  Layering is my go to m.o. for clothing, though I do wear underwear underneath all those layers (apparently I did not as a child.)  I still hate pink.  About the only thing that has changed is that I got a little taller (not much) and have a deep understanding of the intricacies of post modern literary criticism.

Some of my favorite moments with N involve his realizing that I am 5.  A while ago, I was throwing a faux temper tantrum just for kicks and stamped my foot.  N’s response?  Bemused laughter and something to the effect of, you really are 5 aren’t you?

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how old I am chronologically and how old I act and how people perceive me.  We’ve discussed how I always get mistaken for younger than I am.  Part of it may be how I dress.  I generally run around in short dresses and leggings.  Coupled with my shortness, lack of makeup, and what I can only assume is a general air of youth, it’s not altogether surprising that I get read as younger.  And, for a bit I have railed against this perception.

I’ve talked about Peter Pan-ing it.  Part of me embraces this aspect of myself but lately another part, the part that wants to be seen as mature, has been very vocal.  I get worried that job interviews are going to be hard because the first impression I give off is one of youth and, I would assume, the attendant immaturity.

For now, I am content with the realization that I seem to have mastered being 5 and 28 simultaneously.  Occasionally I get whiplash from swinging between the ages but it’s nothing some yoga can’t fix.

And because I am feeling goofy, here’s a poll!

A Two Parter, Part I

Today’s post will be in two parts.  The first will be mildly sad and bleak and the second will discuss one of my favorite topics, age and perception.  But first, sad and bleak.

The person I adore and regularly sleep with is far, far away from me, emotionally speaking.  N ran into some issues at work and it has, apparently, hit him hard.  I have never seen him so distant and, and… neutral.  Neutral isn’t a new thing for N but the level has change dramatically.  It became very clear early on in our relationship that our approaches to feelings were total opposites.  Mine is pretty much, let the emotions run freeeeeee!!!  Feel deeply, feel strongly, then move on.  On the other hand, N’s approach is to carefully cultivate neutrality.  On some level I admire his approach because there is far less daily upheaval.  On another, it baffles me.  I am the feeler and he is the observer and never the twain shall meet.  That has worked well for us but now, the roles are reversed.  He is feeling and I am observing.  And I sort of suck at observing without interference.  I want to fix it!

My fix-it tendencies are my mother’s doing.  While she and I approach fixing differently, we are both prone to moving from venting to fixing pretty quickly.  Or venting while fixing.  However is happens, fixing is always the next step.  So when someone I care about seems to be struggling with unreleased feelings, my first instinct is to fix it.  However, I know that won’t work for N.  He needs to work this out by himself and when he’s ready he’ll let me in as far as he wants.  Until then though, I am struggling not to take the distance personally, to not worry, and to not go directly to fix-it mode.  Jesus fucking Christ this is hard.

It’s all hard but what may be the hardest part is that I am far too empathetic for my own good.  M and I talk about this all the time because we both feel the emotions of others, whether we like it or not.  It’s particularly hard when it’s the emotions of someone we’re close to.  Even though I don’t know what exactly N is thinking, I feel his feelings, which is just as confusing to comprehend as it is to write.  Essentially, I feel what he’s feeling along with my own feelings.  That is a hell of a lot of feelings and it’s stressful to contain them and channel them in a non-destructive way.

Now that I’ve made you all think I’m cuckoo, I’m gonna dig my hole deeper.  I’m a Pisces/Scorpio, which is the astrological equivalent of an unmedicated manic depressive.  Pisces are artsy, malleable, sensitive, and vaguely ethereal.  Our heads are often in the clouds while we fake being responsible and normal.  Scorpios are intense, passionate, emotional, hot headed, stubborn, and forceful. Scorpios are busy igniting emotional fires and getting shit done.  Now combine the two and you get me.  Double the emotions, double the passion, quadruple the trouble.  (As I write this I am thinking about how much crap I will get if my skeptical Taurus boyfriend ever sees it.  Typical Taurus.  Anyway…)  The big thing for both Pisces and Scorpio is emotions.  Emotions are nothing new to me and feeling the emotions of others is nothing new but feeling them so consistently is.  All the time spent with N is more time I feel his rather bleak emotions.  It makes me so sad.

Ok, enough with the dark side of life.  In my next post I will swing to the other end of the spectrum and discuss age and perception and how annoying it is when those two get together.

Job Hunting for Twenty Somethings

Dear Twenty Somethings,

Here’s what will happen when you apply for jobs.

1) All the things you were told by your parents re: job hunting are no longer applicable.  The digital revolution has changed the process radically.  For example, follow-ups will be explicitly discouraged.

2) People looking for employees have totally unrealistic expectations.  You do not need a bachelor’s degree to be a secretary but if you want to get a job as a secretary, you will need a fucking four year degree that won’t be particularly applicable.  Yup, it now takes a bachelor’s degree to be considered for the position of secretary.  Relevant experience, current skills, all pale in comparison to that bachelor’s degree.

3) You will come across the most ridiculous qualifications.  I just applied for a job that wants experience doing Yelp! reviews.  What does that even mean?  Anyone with access to computer, i.e. pretty much everyone, can mosey on over to Yelp! and write a review.  The review will be posted with no stop over in editing, there are no quality standards, ANYONE CAN DO IT.  It does not take special knowledge of websites or any other knowledge that is even slightly specialized.  And yet, for this job, they want Yelp! reviewing “experience”.  Excuse me while I laugh uproariously and wonder about what sort of alternate reality categorizes writing Yelp! reviews as ” relevant experience.”

This last one is very important.

4) EVERYONE WILL TELL YOU HORROR STORIES.  The reality is that the job market still sucks and for many industries, they are looking for a considerable amount of experience  for what they term an “entry level” job.  No one wants to train and the 80s business model of poaching employees from competing companies is alive and well in 2012, so companies have gotten used to having overqualified applicants.  There are all sorts of things wrong with this, not the least of which ENTRY LEVEL IMPLIES THAT LITTLE TO NO EXPERIENCE IS REQUIRED.  And yet you will be asked to have 5+ years experience for that entry level position.  That makes sense, right?

There is no good news, my fellow twenty somethings.  This is the reality and, yes, it is horribly depressing.  However, as an incurable cynical optimist, I am still full of hope because I know everything will eventually work out.  Not the way I hoped, planned, or in the time frame I desired but it will work out.  And the same is true for you.

xoxo and all that jazz,

Me (the obfuscated one)


I think I’ve told you before that I can’t really tell time.  Clocks and watches are not my friends.  Despite the fact that I NEVER actually know what time it is, I am rarely late and usually early and this speedy tendency filters out to how I respond to business-y emails, phone calls, and other missives.  My procrastination tendencies are generally confined to school papers (which I don’t have to do anymore!!!  Why didn’t anyone tell me that life outside of school meant no papers?!?!?)  As a result, my ability to tolerate a lack of speedy response is severely limited.  And as I am applying to jobs, that (in)ability is being tested in the extreme.

I have applied to oh, you know, over 60 jobs in the past 2 months and while I realize that is a comparatively small amount, I have gotten only a handful of responses (all rejections, thanks for asking.)  I take issue with this because it would be nice to be able to stop hoping and know just how many job applications I actually have being considered.  As it stands now, as far as I know, I have about 56 applications still outstanding.  And I am horribly impatient.  My follow-ups are generally ignored (please tell me that I just need to be persistent and I will tell you that a good portion of the jobs I have applied for have explicitly stated that follow up inquiries will be ignored.  The digital age, people, the digital age has destroyed everything, including the job hunting process.  I’m still following up but have come to expect zero response.  Annoying as all get out and rather demoralizing to boot.)

All of this is to say that I will happily take a job where all I do is politely tell people that whatever they want is being worked on but it’s going to take a few days and we’ll get back to them next week.  It’s really not that hard to keep people updated and, yes, it takes time, but it also shows that while this is all business we recognize that we are still dealing with real, thinking, feeling, people who deserve a basic level of respect.  I may not like most people but I am consistently civil towards others until they show that they don’t even deserve that.  And then I just ignore them.  It’s pretty simple to maintain a veneer of niceness even when, deep down inside, you are plotting everyone’s demise.

On a totally different note, today has been a wash.  On the dark side, not so good things happened to N and since I care about him and am far too empathetic it’s been stressful.  On the bright side, my dad sent me a bunch of mason jars (*smashsmash* broken plastic everywhere!  I hate plastic cups.  And now I can get rid of them!  Also, drinking out of mason jars is the best.  [Okay, I didn’t really smash the plastic cups, they will be placed high up on a shelf until I get too lazy to do the dishes and then get the step stool to pull them down… why am I putting them where I can’t easily reach them?])  I found out that my childhood best friend is in SF and on Sunday I am seeing her.  I haven’t seen or really talked to in over a decade and I am weirdly excited while also incredibly nervous because I felt a little weird suggesting we get together even though we haven’t really communicated in forever (which is why I am typing as if I am talking without taking a breath because that is exactly what is happening.) Oh well, I’ll awkwardly mention it and then I’ll feel better because at least we’re on the same page of awkwardness.  Awesome.

For the finale, I will fall asleep.  Ta da!


Life As I Know it

Because I feel bad about not having posted in AGES, here is a bonus post!

I’m not sure if I’ve told you this or not but I was doing the online dating thing for a bit.  I realized that not going out much and having a small circle of friends meant that if I wanted to date, I had to use the tools available, e.g. okcupid.  (Disclaimer: if you wish to troll me for the fact that I could not get a date without help from one of those “cheesy” online dating sites, I have two responses: 1) get your head out of your ass and join us in the 21st century and 2) I regularly get laid and you troll the internet because nobody loves you- which one of us should be embarrassed?  Moving on.)

My okcupid experience was a good one.  I went on five dates and only the first one was a total dud (I don’t like shopping on the best of days but having a guy take me along to do his shopping, for beauty products [HE USED MORE THAN ME] no less, was really the most depressing thing ever.)  Of the four that weren’t, two had their own issues and dropped off the face of the earth.  One took me to an amazing concert, we danced like crazy, and, while we are not dating, we remain friends.  The fifth and final guy, we’ll call him N, has stuck around.

N and my first date was pretty great.  We met up and he took me to the UC Berkeley Museum.  We wandered around, found an awesome place to talk (seriously, it’s this series of irregular, curved supports and you find the one that fits you best and lie back.  They even have plugs for your computer!) and then went to what is locally known as the “asian ghetto” and had great, cheap Thai food.  We wandered and that was pretty much the beginning of us.

N is great, obviously, otherwise I, the greatest thing ever, would not be with him.  He is sarcastic, generous, and comforting.  Our relationship, from the outside, often looks a little like a boy teasing a girl on the school playground because he likes her.  He teases me, I react, we wrestle, truly, we are actually five (I mean, for fuck’s sake, I LOVE blowing bubbles in the bathtub, cartoon movies [I may or may not be watching “How to Train Your Dragon” as I write this…] and still think friendship bracelets are the best thing ever.)  And if I didn’t like all of the teasing and button pushing, it would suck and I wouldn’t be dating N but since I (secretly) love it; it works for us.  It’s odd to look back over the past few months (we’ve been together since the end of February [should I know the exact date?  I feel like I’m expected to but, really? celebrating EVERY SINGLE ANNIVERSARY seems so silly to me.  Though I do like presents… maybe I should rethink my stance.)

To sum up, I am dating someone whom I adore.  He treats me well and I love that our relationship has evolved to fit us, rather than some crazy outside expectation (He and I both struggle with the terms boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other.  While on the one hand, they are handy short hand [heh] for outsiders, they are also… weird.  I always refer to N as N and will only use boyfriend if absolutely necessary.  Though isn’t it obvious if we are holding hands that we are something important to each other?  Ugh, societal fail.)

In closing, I offer you one the five million and twelve photos of a meal N and I ate together (I have no idea why he documents them):

One of the burgers we shared. We were both impressed with the taste (we are truly critical of most burgers.) The bites are from me. I was STARVING.

And, because I’m interested, in the comments, using haiku format (5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables) tell me about the best date you went on.

The Great Beyond

The title is in memory of my undergraduate education, where we called post-grad life “The Sea of the Great Beyond.”  There was even a mural.

Here in my post grad life I have been diligently looking for a job.  And, shock of shocks (I say shock of shocks because I have applied for quite a few, at places like Trader Joe’s [x2] and Whole foods [x2], but having ZERO retail experience and living in this economy means that there is some serious competition for those jobs and most of those competitors have more retail experience than I [not hard]), I found one.  One that, shock of even more shocks, is exactly what I want to do with my life.


When I first moved to this lovely East Bay place I discovered that I lived a block away from a children’s art studio.  I went in one day just to see what it was (the fact that it sells local artisans’ work appealed to my magpie/I like shopping WAY too much nature.)  I spoke to the owner and we found, to our mutual delight, that she had just had a kiln donated and someone who could work it had just shown up on her doorstep.  She was very excited to talk to me, as I was to her, and the only thing that was standing in the way of me and teaching little kids how to get properly dirty was installation of the kiln.  It’s taken a while for the electrician to find the time (it’s going to take about 9 hours if all goes smoothly) to install the kiln.

About a week ago, I popped in, just to keep myself on her radar.  It turned out that she had just gotten word that the electrician would be available in the next few weeks and she was just about to call me.  We talked and she asked me to develop and implement the clay program at her studio.  Holy shit.

The only problem with this job is the fact that it is not immediate gratification (read: I have to get interest for the classes and people to sign up before I get paid.)  That’s a pretty big problem because I need money now.  I am still making application to various places that will pay me (3 today which brings the total for the last five days to 16.  I am working in five day increments mostly due to the fact that I am doing my best to not get overwhelmed to the point where I shut down.  That would be detrimental to my whole making money plan.) and working on getting the clay program off the ground.  If you’re interested in the clay classes (all ages are welcome!) and live in the East Bay, leave me a message in the comments and I will happily forward on the information.  You can also visit stickyartlab.com and/or email info@stickyartlab.com for more info.

And because I feel bad about the fact that I haven’t posted in ages here is a picture:

This is a teapot and cup set that the boy (oh yeah, that happened too) in my life got me for graduation. It sits in a place of honor in my apartment.

P.S.-  There are other things going on in my life (see photo caption) that I haven’t told you so there will be another post shortly re: the rest of my life.

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