It sucks to grow up

Everybody knows.

Today I had to take responsibility and last minute line something serious up for work and now I'm super nervous that it might fall through and I'll let down my boss and the company. There's probably no reason to be worried, but at work, I feel like a kid. I'm one of the young twenty-somethings, with my desk stationed in the back office amongst "the kids" (as I like to call us), who all make little money and do whatever we're told. I like it that way.

Responsibility sucks. And, in spite of all the desperate desires I have to fall in love, it makes me like being single; I don't have to answer to anyone. Nobody's feelings or plans are in my hands. I can disappear and no one will notice. I can spend whatever money I want and not feel guilty. It's great.

But now, as I grow older, I'm seeing expectations growing with me. From my superiors. From my peers. From my parents. From myself really. I want to buy dinner for my family when we go out. I want people to know they can count on me. But I also want to run away to another country and forget my obligations. The sad thing is, at 26, my only real obligation is a job that I could probably leave behind.

A conflicted girl I am. Do I try to become more responsible and make commitments and be someone reliable or do I try to become less responsible and do the things that are piling up on my wish list? What I really want to do is dance, eat carrot cake, go on warm night swims and read trashy books.

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F

We failed, Margaux and I.

That little failure of a project is the epitome of the life of a 26 year old with no plans in sight. Every great idea I come up with lasts exactly long enough to convince myself I'll do it. And then I don't.

Not only did we both procrastinate and post our "assignments" late, we never did another one. It's both our faults. We recently agreed that the idea of having a blog is much better than actually doing it, which mostly sucks. I will never find the motivation to keep this up regularly. And for this reason, I don't tell anyone this blog exists. And for that reason... what's the point?

But, to update on my previous post in which I mapped out my plans to become a master gardener:

1. Roommate planted garden without me while I was at work so now I'm not invested at all in it (and it's not doing well). But the good news is that Margaux has asked me to help plant her garden at the house she just bought and I'm ecstatic.
2. Didn't buy a book or explore but I did go home on Memorial Day weekend and mom taught me about flowers and new plants. Planted new flower pots, nasturtiums and strawberries.
3. Mushroom hunting plans in process. Looking for nerdy mushroom-hunting group to join.
4. Bonsai on hold.
5. Gave 2 jades away.

That's probably not an F. But definitely a C- at best. And I used to be a straight A student.

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Plant Prowess

Here is my assignment from Miss Mennesson:
-What is the one skill you wish you had learned, or are realizing you want to learn? Why and how would it benefit you personally and/or professionally to know that skill? And come up with a plan to start learning it.

Okay, at first I didn't like this question. And the reason is because the correct answer is not an answer I like at all. The correct answer is web coding. In the field I'm currently in, this is the final frontier. Put five journalists in a room. They all have the same people skills and the same writing skills but one of them knows how to code. That guy's got the job. Web is everything. I understand the basic concepts, but if I were to become skilled at this, I would be infinitely more attractive in my business.

But here's the thing: I don't want to be a webmaster. I don't want to code things. I don't even know if I want to work in media. What I do know is that I want to write. And if that's going to happen, I have to learn to be more creative. I just decided 30 seconds ago that my answer to the assignment is creativity! I came into this blog post thinking I was going to write about how I want to get better at photography, but that's not it ("plan to start learning" was to buy an expensive camera, which I'll probably still do). I want to be a writer and while it may never be my profession, I've never thought so long and hard about anything as about this growing desire to write a book. So, I think the first step in being more creative with my words is to be more creative with my hands and my eyes. I'm going to go find some versatile classes that interest my creative side. I'm going now. I'll be back.

1. Painting - Oil and Acrylics, Multnomah Art Center
2. Handbuilding and Wheelthrowing (Clay), Multnomah Arts Center
3. Jewelry and Metalsmithing: Intro to Fabrication, Multnomah Arts Center
4. Creating Children’s Picture Book illustrations, Oregon School of Arts and Crafts

I like all those ideas, but I sat on this post for a few days. Then, on a sunny day last week, I walked to meet Margaux for lunch and chose to venture down Washington street in downtown Portland; I was astonished by how much foliage there was. It was a pleasant surprise to discover a route in the city that was so full of plant life. It instantly perked me up. I love plants. Lately, the only two careers I've really been interested in are writing and botany. I'm pretty good at houseplants. I've dabbled in vegetable gardens. I haven't really had the opportunity to grow a flower garden. But I really want to expand my plant prowess. These are my first steps toward becoming a more well-rounded plant-person:

1. Help roommate plant/maintain vegetable garden
2. Buy book on plant identification and go on a weekend excursion with said book to play and explore
3. Go mushroom hunting 3 times in the next 6 months
4. Plant or get a bonsai tree. Love it until I die.
5. Give somebody a gift of a plant once a month.

Number 5 is the most important. I've always loved taking care of my houseplants, but almost just as wonderful is watching a friend grow that same affinity. Perhaps someday, I'll write a book about plants. And it will be everything I ever wanted.

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M+K = Success

Margaux is going to save me and she's going to save my blog.

We decided tonight that we would be each other's blogspiration. Every week we are going to come up with an idea for a post and both write about it in our separate blogs. I'm really excited to have some accountability/encouragement, but even more excited to see how the same idea manifests differently in our writing styles and life experiences.

Margaux is one of my oldest friends. We've gone from high school to adulthood together. We've traveled together. We've been desperate for jobs and boyfriends together. We've seen endless shows together and shared a million bands with each other. I respect her immensely and can't wait to see where project blogovation goes.

Stay tuned for more regular updates. As soon as Margaux's blog goes public, you'll have the link (and by "you" I mean the 2-4 people I know who read this).

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BBQ waft

I smell like barbeque.

After dining at Podnah's tonight (which was great, but they were out of WAY too many things considering it was only 7 when we got there... baked beans, collard greens, chips, pecan pie...) I smell like 2007. I'm remembering the days of working at Baldy's, coming away with smoky hair, saucy shirts and a nightly decision to make: do I rush home to take a shower or just go to the bar smelling like shit because I need a gin and tonic from the D&D more than I need to smell better?

I worked in restaurants for so many years. Tonight I commented to my friends how excited I was for the first summer in a really long time that I won't be working in a restaurant. Oh, you guys are all meeting at Amnesia for a sunny evening beer? Sure, I can join you. Going camping this weekend? Hey cool, I'll come. Last Thursday? I'd love to be a part of the crowd instead of waiting on it. I worked in a restaurant every single summer home from college and then for three years afterward. I can't tell you how many things I missed out on.

Things are different now. I sleep less. I move less. I drink less. I hate myself less. On the other hand, there was a time when I felt like I could do anything. I was just saving money for the "next step." Which I guess is here. We are starting a new marriage equality campaign at work that makes me excited to be doing what I'm doing. We are helping to change things that I care about. We are actually doing something. And I'm getting paid along the way. That feels good.

The things I'm not doing, which keep creeping up into my subconscious are as follows: learning the violin so that I can feel sophisticated and finally find my calling, getting a typewriter to write a book, getting a record player to create a false sense of nostalgia so that I can write a book and finding answers to unanswered questions, mainly about some ghosts that keep haunting me. They're metaphorical. Come on, I don't believe in ghosts.

I do believe in aliens. And if you don't, we need to have a talk. I wrote my senior high school final paper on why, mathematically, aliens MUST and therefore DO exist. So there. I'll find it if you need convincing.

Here's a video for you to watch if you haven't already.
http://www.youtube.com/user/bangerangmedia?feature=mhum#p/a/u/0/2MfhZjDVmB8

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Black Cadillacs

It's true that we named our children after towns that we'd never been to.

I can't wait to name my children someday. Until then, I'm going to keep on traveling. I leave tomorrow for Israel. I will also spend a weekend in Istanbul with a dear friend where I will see culture and religion and beauty and history. I will listen to new music I put on my iPod. I will write things in my journal every day. I will take photos so beautiful they simply must be blown up and framed. I will buy art, no matter the cost and inconvenience of traveling with it. I will forget about this last week of awkward dates and disappointing nights. I will miss my friends but love them more when I come home.

I will come home and find a man--not a boy--to love. I will come home and write more in my blog and on the typewriter I will buy. I will come home and buy a violin bow and learn to play. I will come home and have craft nights with friends who want to be creative. I will come home and run run run. I will come home refreshed and inspired and ready. Mostly, I will come home.

And we were done, done, done
With all the fuck, fuck, fuckin' around.
Circlin' round.

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