cleaning out the closet

I was going through my thumb drive that contained most of my documents from my last semester of college. That was the semester I took creative writing with professor Kerry Sherrin Wright. She is nerdy to the point that it's graceful, and has a quirkiness that compels you to stay in her presence as long as possible (for the hope that she might say something unfathomably profound, or she'd trip on the carpet-- sometimes both). She was the kind of professor that changes your life in the same way a tiny pebble dropped into a pond changes the water. In my creative writing folder in my old thumb drive, I found several gems that I enjoyed reading and reflecting on.

I'll share one of the poems now, although I'm rather annoyed that I can't get the formatting to stay as it was in the original version. There should be some spacing and line breaks that you will not get the full effect of in this version, but I can't find a way to fix that. If anyone has any idea, feel free to fill me in.

September 24, 2007

The Girl

"You're mediocre, you know that?"

He's still yelling- then it really begins.
like a vacant nest during winter's first snow, emptiness
stares at me from the eyes of the mirror.
too tired to lift his hand again- or perhaps convinced of a hopeless cause
I am free to go.

bedroom door opens
a flood-gate of tears.
the first rain for a flower
that long ago withered
I throw a small glass bottle across the room
against the wall- it shatters.

the familiar, safe body sinks down next to me,
closes the door- keeping the family secret safe
inside the closet with us.
my brother pulls me close and I rest
my head on his shoulder.
His t-shirt becomes wet against my face.
He doesn't mind.
He sits holding me- strong, still
Silent.

supporting the hopelessness that consumes me.
validity evaporating
like breath into a bitter night
my resentment is not echoed
in his hollow gaze.
this closet- a tomb
for significance.

in the aftermath I learned to seek his comfort
in the aftermath I realized that it would never be enough.

Shih Tzu

Alright, so my roommate has a Shih-Tzu, for those of you who don't know what this is, I'll link a picture for your visual enjoyment.

My roommate's Shih-Tzu weighs around 12lbs. I know cats that weigh more than that. Sarah calls him something funny- Skippy? I can't remember- but that's the kind of dog it is, one whose name you don't even bother to commit to memory because it's never going to do anything worthwhile. This isn't the point. The point is-- WHAT are they bred for? What is their purpose for LIVING? As any good nerd would, I researched to find out, and do you know what I came up with? Nothing. Yep, this dog is as useful as a bag of hair. In fact, their reason for being was succinctly summed up as, "Today this breed is very popular, both as a companion and a glamorous show dog." Glamorous. Seriously? What do people THINK when they buy one of these dogs? Unless I was the recent recipient of a lobotomy, there's just no way. It's very similar to smoking cigarettes, I suppose, the warning is right there on the label, but you don't heed the advice of the SURGEON GENERAL.

To be fair, tiny dog behaves rather well around guests and the like. My dogs, on the other hand, act like it's the first time they've seen other life forms and go into a frenzy of tails and tongues. Tiny dog gets just as excited, but seriously, he weighs 12 pounds, what can he actually do? Oh wait, we covered that already, nothing. Plus, my dogs are actually DOGS-- and not the glamorous kind. It seems to me that some people get rather smug when tiny dog is all cute, and glamorous, just curling up on someones lap, and my dogs are behaving like-- SHOCK, GASP-- DOGS! Both of my dogs, however, are in advanced obedience. They will both be trained as search and rescue dogs, and on top of that Zulu will be trained as a Canine Good Citizen so we can make hospital and nursing home visits and bring a little cheer to people in need. They have jobs, their breeds have purpose. Both thrive on learning new things.

But, never fear, my dogs have given this jobless, purse-accessory a purpose in life: their personal squeak toy.

from the mouths of babes

From the archived files in my mind comes this following conversation:

[in an italian restaurant between Alora, 4, and Benny, 41]

Alora: Do you have a baby in your belly?

Benny: No.

Alora: Then you're fat.

Benny: Yes, yes I am.

man pee

Okay, what is it with men's urine that makes it smell like THAT. You know what I mean, that sort of acidic/sour smell. If it were a perfume it'd be Parish Hilton: The Morning After. What happens within the male body that causes such a rancid odor to emit from their PEE? Having to spray air freshener after a man does number 1 is just ridiculous. Any medical consult on this issues is appreciated.

Cape Town, South Africa

I just found out tonight, via voicemail, that I was awarded a grant from travelocity that I applied for about 3 months ago; it's called a Change Ambassador Grant, or CAG. Every quarter travelocity accepts hundreds of applications for four available $5,000 grants. They choose the recipients of these grants based on past volunteer experience and personal commitment to fighting for change, and for a better world. I am privileged enough to have been chosen to receive one of these grants and when I found out I was so excited that I could have pooed and flung it everywhere.

I found out as I left work, so on my way to class I called my mother to share my insurmountable exuberance-- no one informed her of the insurmountable part. I hastily- and excitedly- informed her of the great news to which she said something like, "Are you kidding? Why waste your time?" That isn't verbatim, but I was so in shock from the roundhouse kick to the teeth that I'm not sure of her precise verbiage. I think I blacked out for a second. Essentially she feels that, at 24, I should be looking for a job and settling down. I'm not entirely sure what this means-- husband, kids, finding some dead-end job to get stuck in for the next forty years-- I don't know for certain, but I could definitely ascertain that she felt my enthusiastic disposition was more than a bit unwarranted. I was then asked if I'd 'even' be making money while I was there. Money? I'm sorry, but let me jump up on my idealistic soap box for a minute and say-- NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT MONEY! *gasp* I'm sorry... did I hear you correctly? If by "money" you meant "gaining a once in a lifetime, irreplaceable life-changing experience that you'll never forget", then yes, I'll make plenty of that.

And, to set the record straight, Cape Town isn't exactly the middle of a third world country where I'll be hunting my own wild hog and narrowly escaping lions, it's one of the top tourist destinations in the WORLD right now. The program I'm going through, Cross Cultural Solutions, is an acclaimed organization that helps thousands of people plan their ideal "volunteer vacation". Another shock-- to some people, volunteering is exciting; helping people is rewarding. Coupling that with travel and the opportunity to explore an entirely different part of the planet makes for an experience unparalleled by any other. The program is inclusive of everything one might need while volunteering in another part of the world-- travel and personal insurance, 24-hour support, a huge house for all the volunteers to live together and share their experience, transportation to and from the airport, food cooked for us by locals who work in the CCS house, volunteer training and support, the list goes on but I digress. Sadly, my mother didn't hear about any of these things, in fact she didn't even ask. Because, here in America, first things first: SHOW ME THE MONEY.

tiger safari, heck yes!

So, I went to the tiger safari with Benny, Sarah, Chris, and Alora, and it was awesome! First of all, it was a beautiful fall day. The safari is set back basically in the middle of nowhere, and it felt like we traveled to another country-- or maybe that's because it's Oklahoma and it IS like another country... or planet. The entry fee was seven dollars, and worth every penny. Our tour guide took our group, along with two other families, around the park and talked with us about the animals. I might be a total nerd, but I enjoyed myself even more because it was so evident that the tour guide loved her jobs and the animals. She even said she was proud of me after I let her drape a SNAKE AROUND MY NECK.


Seriously, I must have been delirious with all the fresh air and sunlight to let this woman near me with a snake this size. Ick. That was luckily the first stop on the tour, and things only went up from there, in my opinion. We won't mention the fact that everyone else was perfectly fine with wearing the boa as a boa... as seen here:




and even this ridiculously huge snake that was being moved to a new home and made a stop for a group hug on the way:

Clearly someone should have flagged them on their fresh-air-intake, because this is the upper eshelon of insanity.

And now here are some pictures of far cuter animals that I enjoyed handling emensely more.



and I fed a tiger...


and-- MOST IMPORTANTLY-- I fed and posed for pictures with A LLAMA!!!

Look at the way he gazes at me. Notice also, the sheep. I'm like Dr. Fucking Doolittle.

Yes, LLAMA, eat the cornflakes I offer you.

To wrap the day up, some of the delinquents in our group defaced the sign at the safari...



When Sarah noticed that some guy was watching this debauchery we tried taking a nicey-nicey one to regain something that resembled dignity.

To my avid readers, I apologize.

I know that this blog is the sun and moon in many of your lives, and I have neglected it, and you, for far too long. I have been a busy bee, so let me share it with thee.

I have moved into the new place! I'm now living in Edmond, Oklahoma (that's just for my stalkers) with three roommates and four dogs. I finally have a backyard for the dogs, which is great to play some fetch and wear them out. Except for when I throw three tennis balls in a row over the fence and Lucy looks at me like, "Really?!" Zulu has NO IDEA why Lucy runs after the ball and brings it back-- over and over-- so instead she waits for Lucy to get the ball, and on her way back she attacks her for it, then plays steal- not fetch. Zulu would rather kill and eat the "prey" while Lucy's chase instinct is strong enough that she will bring it back to chase again. To each his own. One roommate has a small dog; a shitszu (spelling, anyone?). I'm not sure what the shitszu was bred for, but Lucy and Zulu are convinced it was to be a play toy. He's a good sport about it, so it usually works out alright. And the fourth dog is geriatric and pretty much hates my dogs. Zulu is therefore even more in love with her and CONSTANTLY tries to lick her face-- which surprisingly pisses her off to no end. I'm pretty sure the other day while Zulu was feverishly bathing her face with wet kisses and she thought I wasn't listening I heard her mutter, "I'll cut you." That dog is obviously crazy badass.

Also, I'm starting a new job and leaving AmeriCorps. There are many reasons, time, desire, purpose, etc, that have lead to this decision. Most importantly, to put it delicately, I'm finacially FUCKED. I need a real job and fast. The job I'm moving to isn't really a long-term committment, but it will make me more than I'm making now. I'll be a server at a country club in Edmond. Hopefully this will buy me time to finish my class here and pay my bills-- and apply for jobs at home. Hopefully I will have something set up by the time I get home and will be able to move forward with a new career, making actual money, paying back actual debt. Luckily I didn't get caught up in any credit card debt or anything crazy like that. So it will just be college loans and sanity that I'm regaining upong my move home. Currently I feel like I never know if I'll have enough money for gas to make it to work the next day, let alone pay back loans. So, by moving home and getting a job of some sort (even if it's serving full time until I find a "real job") I'll feel like I'm getting my head above water and the boot of panic won't be on the back of my head holding me to the hard, cold bottom in the pool of financial FUCKERY.

I have to poop. Please refer to my blog about poo for my feelings about this.

Furthermore, the current SNL amazigness of Tina Fey as Sarah Palin is the only thing about this election that makes me laugh. Well, I usually laugh when the real Palin talks, but then I'm immediately clenched with GUT-WRENCHING FEAR that she could realistically run our country one day if the old man is elected and then kicks it (which he will). And that makes me want to weep. But, Tina Fey is too hilarious to not just appreciate. SNL should be bowing down to her and getting her lap dances for life for saving their tanking ratings. The whole show is better and morale has been visably boosted. So, horray for that.

And lastly, I'm addicted to crocheting. Probably in a creepy, and possibly illegal way. I have opened an online shop on etsy (which is a secondary addiction) and the address is KIMporium.etsy.com -- bear in mind that it's brand new and only has about 5 items on it, but I'm feverishly crocheting and the variety will definitely increase in coming months. Feel free to do some marketing for me to friends and family [[shameless plea for help]]

I said that that was "lastly" so I suppose I'm done for now! Within the next day or two I'm going to add some pictures from my most recent activities-- of which there have been many! So stay tuned, and I promise to be more vigilant of this blog as to not dissappoint anymore.