A Rant About the Perils of Employment

A co-worker recently asked me to write a rant about being employed. Since I'm a blogger (though I will admit that I've been a piss-poor one as of late, due in part to lack of things to say and a need to keep my personal life slightly more personal), I opted to use this as an opportunity to get back into the swing of blogging.

Here's what I find to be the main problem with employment in this century: we are all replaceable.

Let me explain with a little parable. When I worked at Wal-Mart and I was being trained on my very first day, the person who was teaching us how to use the registers told us that if we messed around on the job, we would be fired. Her exact words to us were, "There are seven people out there waiting to take your job."  The message was clear: you don't matter and we can find anyone else just like you to put in the same position and do exactly what you do.

The transparency at Wal-Mart was interesting. You knew from the first day that you were quite replaceable. You knew that if you screwed up, they would get rid of you. They could find any old reason to get rid of you whenever they wanted. This didn't really make anyone work faster or harder or better, but it set a standard. It illustrated an expectation.

Now, I work elsewhere, though I'm still in retail. In the interest of keeping my job, I won't mention where it is that I work, but I will say that it is a major, national drugstore chain. We put our best face forward. We tell our employees that they matter, and to some extent, we might even treat them that way. But the problem is that the Wal-Mart standard still rings true. There's a message in the background--almost like a song on the radio that's just loud enough to hear, but not so loud that it gets distracting or worrying--that tells us that we can be gone tomorrow just as easily as we were hired yesterday. We still know that we're the expendable crew members.

This notion of disposability is ruining retail. Managers can treat you however they want because they know that you won't quit and you can't do anything about it. And, even if you did create a problem for them, they can invent a reason to fire you and it won't be an issue for them. It creates a climate of powerlessness among workers. The mantra of anyone in retail who has been upset or offended by a manager is, "Oh well, it's not like I can do anything about it."

The problem doesn't just lie with managers. It's systemic. It's more cost effective for a company to get rid of a higher paid worker and replace them with a new body for a lower wage every so often, so this is what corporate offices encourage. Gone are the days of retiring with 50 years at a company. The dream is over. With that kind of encouragement from home offices and CEO's, it's really no wonder that the people who actually maintain and run a store--that would be the minimum wage workers, for those of you playing along at home--have so little control over their own destinies.

So what's the solution? Is there a solution? The more time I spend working in retail, the more out of control I feel. Someone else gets to decide what I do. Someone else gets to tell me what is or is not good enough. And I don't even have the security to be able to argue about whether or not the standards are fair because I might lose my job for any old reason. I am the nonessential essential worker. Without people like me, the store wouldn't function. Yet, people like me are just a dime a dozen to the corporate office. Where does that put my future? What does that say for kids who are growing up now? What will their future look like in ten to twenty years? What are their prospects? More to the point, whatever the answers are to the previous two questions, are we okay with that?

The major question I'd like the answer to, though, is how did we get here? How did we come so far without anyone protesting?

Recent Alterations

There have been a great deal of changes in my life recently. I cannot explain all of them, nor will I bother to try in some cases. Suffice it to say that things are much changed.

I am employed. I have taken a break from school. I have moved out of my husband's house and am living with a friend in an apartment we've rented. I can't say that any of this has come easily. I do hope that much of it will be worthwhile.

For the time being, I'm being patient. I'm trying to let my life shake out however it shakes out. Less planning and hoping and dreaming, more living and just trying to take life as it comes. We'll see how it all works out.

We'll call it a work in progress.

Recognition and Tears

I'm not going to preface this blog post with a bunch of empty promises about updating more regularly or blah blah blah. All I can say for myself is that I'm a college student, a wife, a committed member of a church, and a daughter. I have a lot going on right now, even if I am unemployed.

However, it is because of my student status that I'm writing today. I know I haven't updated so there's a lot that my (sparse) readers don't know. Here's some stuff that happened to us in 2011:

• JJ's grandmother passed away. She was a beautiful soul and a welcoming, loving woman, and we will miss her dearly. Dealing with her passing has been incredibly difficult.
• JJ has faced a year of unemployment, despite a college degree in CAD.
• I started at a new college, where I have felt out of place and alone since day one of attendance.
• JJ and I rejoined my childhood church upon moving back, and we have been pretty involved lately.
• I spent my Christmas break from school substituting as the church secretary--which has had its own set of problems, not the least of which has been the fact that my Christmas break wasn't a break at all, and I'm definitely not getting paid for my time.
• We are running out of our settlement money, which has been what we've used to pay our bills.

Needless to say, things have been tense and difficult this year. We've been trying our hardest to make things better and to save money wherever we can to try to help things along--I even made my own laundry detergent because it's cheaper than buying it. Long story short, I started this semester (today is day two) with no textbooks, which has been REALLY freaking me out.

I posted on Facebook a lament about my lack of resources, and some friends really came to my aid. It wasn't my intention to fish for help or to beg for money, but rather just to vent. But some people, despite my telling them I was not trying to be a burden, decided to do what they could to help me out. Two people bought me books. A few others have offered to loan me copies of  their books. I have never been more touched. I cried when I read my inbox messages, informing me that I had books on the way. I'm trying not to cry right now as I write this.

I guess I hadn't realized how desperate or alone I was feeling until people reached out to help me out. It's like how you don't realize that you're holding your breath until you breathe out and in again. The relief is like nothing else. It just washes over you.

So, to the people who saw it in their hearts to help me out, thank you. A thousand times, thank you. You have no idea what it means to me to have friends who care enough about me to try to make a difference in my life. And, for the record, you've made a huge difference. I value this for more than just the money. I value the fact that you guys were willing to reach out and help someone in need. I've never been more proud of my friends or more grateful for the things that they do for me.

I encourage anyone who reads this blog to reach out and help another person in any way that you can. Pay any kindness that has been shown to you forward. Because, honestly, it's amazing to be on the receiving end of  that kind of love. And, having been on the giving end as well, that feels pretty awesome too. People can make a difference to each other. I hope that I can be in a position to pay it forward soon because I definitely want to pass this kind of love on to the next person.

Another Year Goes By...

Today, I'm 26, and all I can think is, "Who cares?"

I suppose it's time for me to write another lengthy update post, but let me just leave that for now.

I'm really hating my birthday and my circumstances today. There's nothing special about any of it. I know that some people are attached to the idea of birthdays being wonderful like geeks are attached to the argument about whether Han or Greedo shot first. Personally, I think they suck. Especially if you're as forgettable as I am.

Movies give you these false birthday hopes. You see people being thrown surprise parties or having a crap day that turns out to be fantastic and romantic and just what that person needed. There's this magical birthday experience that is everything that you wish your life could be, but it never happens to you.You don't see my day in movies: being kept up until three in the morning fighting with your spouse, going to class with hardly anyone knowing that you exist (except as the awkward fat girl who can't fit into the high school style individual desks), awkwardly blurting out answers which leave the room cricket-chirp quiet because no one knows how to reply, and an over-all feeling of wanting to crawl in a corner and not relinquish your place until you are forced. Perhaps movies aren't that brutally honest with patrons because they know that we don't want that. We go to movies to forget about how much our lives suck. People don't throw surprise parties for people like me. I'm supposed to go to movies to feel hopeful, like if it can happen for Amy Adams or Meryl Streep then it should give me hope so that I have something to cling to.

By the time you hit 25, all the milestones are gone. And, really, what is there to look forward to at 25 but cheaper insurance rates? (I'm pretty sure that I'm the only person out there who was legitimately excited about cheaper insurance rates for my 25th birthday. I can't figure out if that was in lieu of anything else to be excited about or if I'm really just that cheap.) I feel like 26 really is indifference territory. What's to look forward to? What's there to be excited about?

Maybe I'm just having a really difficult time finding my gratitude today. Today just feels like any other day.

Packing Up

Recently, things have been in a tremendous amount of flux for my family. Our future has been rather uncertain as of late, and certain economic hardships have forced us to make some decisions. The long and short of our situation is that we've been required to make some choices about where we're going to be living.

I've decided, after much debate, that I'll be moving back to my home state. I've thought about this for a long time, but the truth of the matter is that Ohio has never felt like a home to me. There are a lot of things that I like about Toledo, but there are also a lot of things that I don't like about Toledo. In the four years that I've lived in this state, I've never gotten over the desire to go back home to Indiana. That means something to me.

More than anything else, I'm just ready to be in a place with my family again. I don't like being so far away from my in-laws. I'd like to be able to do things with them, to spend time with them. I'd like to be around to help with my husband's uncle's fledgling business. I'd like to be able to take JJ's grandmother to dinner every now and again. None of that is to say that I don't want to do the very same things with my own family, but we simply don't have the means. My father's job may necessitate a big move in the near future, which makes the future of my immediate family much more uncertain. If they end up back in Indiana, I'll of course want to do the same things with them.

One of the other reasons that I'm kind of excited for this move is surprising to even me: I missed my church. I'm excited to go back to my hometown and get involved in my church again. I've actually missed being a part of that community. I almost feel a responsibility to that church, to be involved there. I'm the fifth generation of my family to be a member at the church. I find myself yearning to take a place at that church, to allow faith to have a bigger role in my life. Normally, I wouldn't describe myself as being a prayerful individual, but lately, things have been different. I've felt a need that nothing else can really fill; I've found comfort in my relationship with God. Maybe that sounds strange coming from a cynic like myself, but it feels more strange than it sounds, believe me.

I'm not letting this move affect my academic career. I'm transferring to another institution in Indiana. I'll be trying to become a student at Bethel College. It's a good school, and the English program at Bethel college is very similar to the English program at Lourdes. They have no limit to the amount of credits they'll accept from other institutions, so I shouldn't lose any time. My credits should transfer. Also, getting a referral from my father should help me get some financial aid, which would be wonderful. Bethel is a good school. Lourdes was also good, but I didn't feel too comfortable there. I have hope that Bethel will be better.

Additionally, my husband is already in Indiana. Things have been going much better between us lately. I feel like our separation has been beneficial for us both. We've both gotten some much-needed perspective. We've learned a little bit more about ourselves through counseling, which we were both in. I think we also learned what our relationship means to each of us. Moving back in together will help us move forward. (Trust me, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel right about it. I've been getting a lot of flack from a lot of people about making this choice. My reply to any conflicting opinions is simply this: my marriage, my rules. If you don't like it, don't be married to me. It's simple.)

More than anything--and I know that I'm jumping the gun here--I'm looking forward to holidays with my in-laws. Since I started dating my husband, his grandmother and I have made Christmas cookies together for the holidays. It usually takes us several days. We spend a day on Kifli and another day or two on other types of cookies--sugar cookies, spritz, seven layer bars, snicker doodles, butter cookies, peanut butter cookies, etc etc. We go to church together on Christmas eve. It's simply lovely to be around more often, to enjoy those little family things. I guess I didn't really realize how much I missed those things until I thought about what it would be like to have them back. Thinking about the things I could be doing with my family made me excited to do them.

I'm just ready to be back in Indiana. I'm ready to move again. It's time to start over.

I Have To Say This... (AKA Why I Don't Care About Harry Potter)

I put up a Facebook status about how I have no plans to ever read Harry Potter. (Don’t you judge me, dammit! I just don’t want to read it!) What made me saddest about my status was the number of individuals who agreed with me. Let me explain…

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m an English major and in college. I plan to teach English. I love reading. I think people should read much more often. Reading is a GOOD thing! I love it when people read anything! I don’t care if other people read Harry Potter. I have no problem with other people doing that. People are allowed to read what they wish to read! If series’ out there like Twilight or Harry Potter encourage more people to read, more power to them. I don’t have to like them or agree with them to know that I agree with what they’re getting people to do. That’s the key.

What I dislike about the Harry Potter crowd is that many of them will resort to name-calling with those of us who do not wish to read their series. Nothing makes me angrier than someone trying to bully me into doing something. Calling me stupid or foolish or saying that I have no taste isn’t going to make me read a book! If you want to bring people to your cause, you’re doing it wrong, Harry Potter fans!

What really made me sad about my status, though (and back to the point of this post), is that one of the the comments I got back proves to me that people don’t read much these days. It makes me sad to think that people agree with me simply because they are too lazy to read. I know people who have vowed they would never read another book after high school and have kept to that promise for the seven years that my graduating class has been out of high school, which is even more sad. I mean, I love it when people agree with me, but I want them to do it for the right reasons!

As a side note, here are some good reasons to be uninterested in Harry Potter:

• you like non-fiction books
• you are older than twelve and would like to read accordingly
• wizards give you the creeps
• you like to read like a hipster and avoid the mainstream
• you hate J. K. Rowling and don’t want to give her a dime
• you are allergic to bullshit
• the movies have ruined it for you
• you hate books with made-up words
• you hate books that feature characters with scars
• you prefer 18th century British literature
• you just don’t hate yourself that much yet

On the other hand, as much as I want more people to crack a book and expand their minds, I don’t agree with everything in said books. The Twilight sigh-ga, for example, is a terrible message to young women about what it means to be a woman and to be in love. Bella is a horrible heroine, and Edward is a terrible hero. Neither of them are suitable role models for free-thinking and intelligent individuals. Bella is the anti-feminist, and Edward doesn’t really want that to change. On the subject of Harry Potter, my refusal to read those books restrains me from making a judgment call about the content therein.

If you want to know why I don’t want to read them, I have no problem with explaining myself. In fact, here’s a convenient, bulleted list:

• I’m not a young adult. Those books are geared toward children, and I am not a child. I am an adult, and I think like an adult. I would like to read accordingly.
• I don’t need any more heroes. My childhood has been filled with great examples of morality and heroism. You can find these examples in fantastic novels like Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time or Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women.
• I want to expand my mind. Novels that confuse me or make me ponder or even make me angry are novels that I want to read. I’m dying to get to my American Lit class at school because I want to learn more. While J. K. Rowling’s work might be good, I doubt it will be what I’m looking for in the way of stimulation.
• The movies bore me. Yeah, that’s right, I said it. I find the movies boring. They do nothing for me. My attention was hardly kept. Sorry, kids. Normally, I won’t judge a book by its movie, but this time, I will.
• I’m just not interested. No amount of arguing or salesmanship will change the fact that I just don’t care about a bunch of brats at a magic school. I know people out there will be dying to tell me, “No, Jessica!!! It’s SOOOO much more than that!” but the fact of the matter is that I just don’t care. Attempting to sell it to me will only make me care even less.
• People have pushed me too hard about it. I might have given the books a chance ten years ago, but the more people who gasp in shock when I admit to never having read them, the more people who accuse me of being stupid or having no taste for never having picked them up, just further prove to me that I’m not missing anything. When people try to drive home a point like that, something in the very fiber of my being just rebels. I can’t help it, and I don’t really want to change it.
• I’d rather spend my time reading something I actually want to read, not something that everyone else wants me to read.
• I am allergic to bullshit. (Oh, come on. You had to know I was going to include something from the above list.)

Here’s the take-home point: READ. Seriously, people, pick up a book!!! I don’t care if it’s Twilight, Harry Potter, something by Nora Roberts, something you bought at a garage sale for fifty cents, something you found in a waiting room or something you stole from your best friend’s dad’s bookshelf. READ! It’s good for you! I promise! But, whatever you do, stop trying to force people to read the same things that you enjoy. We’re all different and that’s okay!

Steel Family

One of my favorite movies of all time is Steel Magnolias. There are a few really good reasons why. First, I think there's something about a movie revolving around a group of women that will always appeal to other women. No matter how different you may be from the characters in the plot, there's just something about women and the responsibilities and shared experiences that we have that will always appeal to us because we can relate. Second, it's a wonderfully acted movie. There's raw emotion in those performances, which is part of what makes a movie great. Third, and most important for me, is the depiction of family and belonging in the movie.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always envied other people who have large families and are close with even their far extended cousins and family members. Even small families who have tight-knit relationships have been the subject of my jealousy. I've always wanted to have a large, loving family. I've wanted to be surrounded by relatives on holidays, keeping in touch via phone, internet, or mail when we're not around each other. The sense of community and belonging that other people have with their families is not only foreign to me, but it is also very much lusted for and sought after.

There's something about that dream that I have come to realize: it is nearly impossible to achieve. No matter how much I want it, no matter the extent of my willingness to work for it, I cannot have what other people do not want. My immediate family is stressed by the financial and environmental circumstances that we face. It's much easier to draw back, to isolate, and in that isolation to lose sight of who we are and what is important to us. Our relationships are so strange now that it's hard to imagine how we can come back from all the hurt or stress.

Many of my desires for a larger family were met by marrying JJ. My in-laws are a large and loving group. Family holidays are often wonderful events full of love, laughter, and life. Seeing them together has taught me a great deal about what it means to be a family. More than that, seeing the way that they handle conflict has taught me about how families can grow and change, how groups of people can disagree but continue to love each other in spite of that. Yet, lately, even my husband's strong family has had troubles that have brought us all to our knees. There have been incredible, unbelievable disagreements, horrible circumstances that have changed everything, and an almost amazing inability for certain members of the family to see past their own feelings. Even I have been black-balled by a portion of the family for saying something that I had been asked to say in benefit of another member of the family. (Don't think for a moment that it saddens me to see things this way. What was said was said with good reason and was said politely. There is no reason for me to be seeing negatives, but I'm not sad that I am. I simply hope that reason or logic will someday prevail.)

Eventually, as is with the ebb and flow of true family, I know that my in-laws will all come back together. Soon enough, things will change for the better, and they will be able to see past the hurt and circumstance. I have faith in the strength of my family, their family, and I am sure that things will right themselves. In the mean time, I have chosen to learn and grow.

The thing that I have come to realize over the years (and especially lately, with family circumstances in my extended family and with my in-laws) is that you cannot force people to be your family. Family is as much a bloodline as it is a choice. One can be related without being a family, but what I want the most is a family. Moreover, what seems like a small fight or small slight can be more than that. It can burn a bridge. A person's lacking response to an attempt at reaching out can have a lasting impact or hurt. Those things don't always go away, and people don't always forgive. When I choose to do something, I need to mean it. I can't just do something without thinking of the consequences because those consequences may be bigger than I've ever imagined.

I've written before about my paternal grandmother. She was amazing. I think our family would be a great deal closer if she hadn't died when she did. When I think about her and the way she held our family together and about JJ's grandmother and the way the family revolves around her, I realize that I have a lot to live up to in the way of matriarchs. Someday, I hope that I can hold a family together in the way that my grandmother and JJ's grandmother did and do. If I ever have children (which, as of right now, is a pretty big if), I hope that they won't feel the same yearning for more family connections that I do. I hope I will be able to teach them how grateful they ought to be for their family. I hope that my children will appreciate their family, will be close to their family, and will love their family no matter what.

I don't know how to get the family that I've always wanted or to keep together the ones that I have. I'm willing to do the work. I'm willing to put aside differences, to apologize for past wrongs, to do as much as possible to keep in touch. I just need more family in my life. I need that support and love and connection. I've also realized that I need my family to need me as much as I need them. I need to know that I'm a part of something and that I'm wanted. I really hope that I find that soon.

Indiana and Rashes

I've had a busy weekend, full of ups and downs! Let's start from the beginning. Some time in the midst of last week, I used a different face wash than I would normally use. My face has had a horrible rash since about Thursday because of that. Even today, it's still swollen and painful. It itches slightly, but every time I touch it at all, it stings like the devil. Benadryl and cold compresses have been my friends. The moral of the story here is don't use new facial products when you have sensitive skin without making sure that the products are hypoallergenic first.

That said, this weekend, my dad and I headed over to Indiana. I saw JJ and gave him some of his belongings that happened to still be at the house here in Ohio. It was good to see him, but I'm still a little uncertain about the future. I guess time will tell.

I also went to church--our old church--for the first time in a long time. It was good to see everyone again. I got a ton of compliments about my hair. I would have thought the blue streak wouldn't have gone over so well with church folks, but it was apparently a really big hit. It was really nice to see everyone. It made me miss living in Indiana a bit, made me nostalgic. It would probably have been a lot better if I didn't feel like a leper with this giant red, swelling rash all over my face, but you take what you can get, right?

We also visited with my grandfather, who just got out of the hospital. He's been having some health issues lately. We were also told that if he doesn't start seeing some improvement with some of the issues he's been having, he may end up facing some surgery, which would not be good. He's improved slightly, however, so we'll take whatever blessings we can get. I know he feels a lot better being able to be at home, rather than cooped up in a hospital room with a roommate who can't be quiet. I suppose that would make me feel better, too.

More concerning, however, is that my great aunt Katy is in the hospital. She's been in the hospital for most of the week, but no one told our family about it. We managed to find out just before we left to come back to Ohio, so we went up to see her beforehand. She's such a fragile little woman, and I worry about her. I know that she's 92 years old, which means she's lived a pretty long life. She told us that she feels like she's toward the end of her life, and that makes me so sad. She also said, though, that she felt like she had a wonderful, long life and that she and our family are very lucky.

She's right; we are lucky. We have a mostly good family, no matter how often pettiness gets in the way. For the most part, we've got good lives and plenty of things to be grateful for. My father started to tear up in the hospital room as we were talking with her. It's very true that it will be so difficult when she passes away, but I'd rather look at it as a normal, natural part of life. I will miss her when she's gone, but she also seems very ready to go. She was calm, and she looked back on her life with a very large amount of gratitude. I'm just hoping that this wasn't the last time that I'll get to see Auntie Katy. She's done a lot for me, and I don't want her to go yet. I'm not ready to let go yet.

Coming home was both good and bad. I'm worried about the state of the things I left in Indiana. I'm glad to be comfortable and back in my own bed again. Yet, I still have a lot to do. I have more things to sort through, more things to find places for in my room. I sort of feel like I'll never be done, which is discouraging. I plan on taking my time, though. Today, I'll be mostly useless because of all the benadryl in my system, but I suppose it'll be okay. I need some time to rest and relax anyway, let my body start taking care of this rash. I'm hopeful that things will start to improve soon.

Beds Aren't Just For Sleeping

My sleep schedule is, once again, totally screwed up. I've been meaning to blog again for the last couple of days,  but I get into this terrible habit of thinking about what to write while laying in bed. By the time I think of something worth actually writing about, I'm in the process of falling asleep. Naturally, when I wake up, I don't have any recollection of what I was thinking about beforehand.

Sleeping for me has been happening in oddly placed four to six hour segments. I'll sleep from midnight to around four A.M., but then I'll be awake until around noon. Then I'll sleep from noon until around five P.M. and be awake until midnight again. It's not really allowing me to be very well-rested, but it's also not really allowing me to get a whole hell of a lot done, either.

Of course, that's based on the notion that I've been productive lately. And, let's face it, that's just not the case. I've been watching a lot of anime lately, though. I forgot how much I loved Japanese and the Japanese culture. I forgot how enjoyable anime happens to be. I also forgot that after watching two series (start to finish) in five days that, afterwards, I have a propensity for spitting out Japanese phrases as though they make sense to those around me. (For those of you who don't know, I took four years of Japanese in high school. I loved it! So, while those phrases may make sense to me, most people in the Midwest don't really speak Japanese.) Anime also makes me crave Japanese foods and green tea.

In line with my recent attempts to be neither seen nor heard in my household, most of my anime viewing has been via Netflix streaming from my laptop in my room. I usually watch it while just laying in bed, which means I probably would look pretty strange to anyone who happened to just walk in. Especially since most of the time I'm also cuddling a large, stuffed penguin.

Yeah, that's right. This is how we do anime nights.

I'm pretty sure that I spend much more time in bed than your average human being--unless, I suppose, you're comparing me to maybe John and Yoko. I'm not usually sleeping in it. I'm reading, blogging, watching anime, watching Netflix (since my TV is still not hooked up...because I'm usually too lazy to get out of bed when the laptop is right there...), surfing the internet, or whatever else. Eventually, yes, I might give in and sleep. Most of the time, though, I'm actually doing something.

I guess probably the worst part about this crazy sleep schedule is that nights can be really lonely. No one's awake in our house--not that I'd really be downstairs or in the way--and hardly anyone is online. It's pretty much just me and Netflix. I've been visiting this website, CompassionPit, which allows you to vent your problems to other people or to listen to other people who need to vent theirs anonymously. I recently connected with a young lady on there going through a bad break up, and we were able to kill a few hours together chatting.

I suppose I really should change my sleep schedule back to normal, but I guess the bottom line is that my life isn't really all that normal right now. Why modify my sleep schedule when my life is so out of whack? I mean, I know that there are people out there who will tell me that I just need to get back to a normal cycle because that will help normalize my life, but the fact of the matter is that that's just not true. My life isn't going to be normal because there's nothing normal about me right now. I suppose sleep weirdness stays until life weirdness goes.

Internets and Disenchantment

After being without internet for several days, having the internet back at my fingertips is kind of a blessing. I suppose I didn't really realize how dependent I was on the web for entertainment until I didn't have it around for a few days. I'm not incapable of surviving, but trivial knowledge was much harder to come by. (We found ourselves saying, "Well, I'd get online and google it, but..." a lot!) Our internet and phone service was down and we were missing several cable channels (and by several, I mean something like half) because of a service problem in our area.

I will say one thing, however. I was reluctant to purchase my Android phone because I was certain I'd never use it that often, and I was sure that many of its features would be wasted on me. I no longer fear that with my phone. My phone was the only internet connection in the house while it was down, and I was never more glad to have gotten an Android phone than I was these last few days. My phone kept me connected to Facebook and Twitter. While I didn't peruse those things with the same eye that I would have had I been sitting at my laptop, it was nice to have the ability to be on the social network despite the at-home technical malfunctions.

Upon having the world at my leisurely access again, I started looking a little more at Vancouver and UBC. I'm not going to lie, I'm afraid that I'm not going to have the money to go there like I want. I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to afford school there at all, let alone housing and transportation and incidentals. Of course, I'm devastated at that prospect because I want to be in Vancouver more than I've ever wanted anything, really. I need to figure out this money situation, and I need to do it now so that I can save up for grad school. I need a car and a job, and I needed them yesterday.

I'm not trying to be bitter about my life, but I'm pretty sure that no one ever told me when I was a child that the entirety of my adult life would be spent struggling to make ends even come near meeting, let alone focusing on fulfilling my dreams. If someone would have just told me that I would be miserable no matter how hard I tried, I might not feel quite so cheated right now. But then, I don't suppose that any amount of preparation--proper or otherwise--could really prepare a person for the harsh realities of life.

It's just that, as a child, people always tell you that you can be whatever you want to be. They don't tell you that you'll never be able to afford to be what you want to be. They don't tell you that, even if you do pull off the money to be what you want to be, it's not going to be what you thought it would be and you'll end up disillusioned. No one prepares you for the let down. They build you up with all of these magnificent possibilities, but they don't tell you how impossible those are to achieve. They don't tell you about the let-down.

I realize that I'm being terribly pessimistic because I'm not sure I'm going to get what I want. It's just that I'm a little crestfallen right now. I'm still going to strive for what I want. I'm still going to do my best to make it happen. I'm just feeling the burden of how incredibly difficult that's going to be right now. I need advice. How do you make the world cough up the life that you want? Ah, why couldn't I just get a trust fund and have everything handed to me?! Woe to the unfairness of life!

Don't mind my whining. Give me a few days. It'll pass. I just need to find my motivation again. I need to find the desire to dust myself off and give it all that I have. And I need to face the dark reality that I'm going to be doing that without anyone else's support, fiscally or otherwise. It's going to be scary and difficult and I might not like it at all, but that's how it's going to be. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go ponder the hysterical and radical magnitude of the fact that Lindsey Lohan has enough money to do drugs until the cows come home, but I can't afford to go to school to better myself. Good one, Jesus!