7 Days of the Week

I had a very interesting experience today.

My morning activity assignment at work today was to take 3 dementia residents (one of which is completely blind, just to note) to a KinderCare so they could read to the children for an hour.

This trip was a flop. The blind resident could, obviously, not participate in reading to the children, and the other two were reading to themselves. Quietly. Making up words. It was a disaster. So I decided to intervene and ask the children if they wouldn't mind singing to us. This went over very well. They sang the ABC song, 10 Little Fish in the Sea ( a new-aged 10 Little Indian Boys; I assume fish are more PC), the months of the year song, and the days of the week song.

It is this last song that got me thinking.
The lyrics are pretty easy: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. There are seven whole days in the week. There are seven days in the week.

What is there to think about? Seems straight forward.

Well here is the thing. I am very used to school weeks. Monday through Friday and then relax or accomplish leftover weekly talks on the weekend. Unless you count finishing homework or cleaning the house, I have never had a weekend that was extremely productive. Productive in the sense that it had the possibility of bettering my life as a whole. My weekends have always been a break from my life not a time to improve it.

This weekend is different. Tomorrow I will be job shadowing - the second step in a long interview process for a job I really want. I am excited about this because I haven't moved forward in this process since my initial interview three weeks ago. That is a long time to wait. That is Saturday.

Sunday (after work), Eddie and I will be hosting our pumpkin-carving housewarming party. I pretty much don't know anyone coming. They are Eddie's friends and a couple random people I have met from my building. This is a great thing! As a new girl in a new city I am ready to meet new people. It is time to start building a network of friends and acquaintances. I am hoping that Sunday will be a refreshing experience.

Job Interviews: Something I always did on a Monday at noon or Wednesday at 3. Anytime that was convenient for the porfessor or academic blah blah that I was applying to work for. Never a Saturday.

Building a network: Something I have always done while at school. I go to school and say hi to someone on the first day. We become friends and say hi to others whom we become friends with...yada yada yada. I am not saying I have never met a friend on the weekend, I am just saying my usual group of friend have always been people I go to school with.

I do not have the luxury of using the campus lifestyle to customize my life here in Chicago. I have to go out of my way. Way out. Going to work and coming home day after day does not move my life forward. It actually is the worst kind of standing still I have ever experienced.

From now on I will have to depend on the two days of the week I am so used to throwing away (by drinking and/or sleeping through them). I will look forward to my weekends from now on - not because I want to hide from life - but because I want to live it.

I am not sure that this is the most poignant blog I have ever written but hopefully you're picking up what I'm putting down. haha.

-C

Stella - An Innocent Place

At this very moment, on this beautiful Monday, I am sitting at Stella (coffee shop in my building) drinking coffee and organizing my head. This has become my Monday ritual and I think I will continue this ritual as long as I have Mondays off work.

I come here mostly to get out of my apartment. It is good to have a "3rd Party Space." A space where you don't work, don't sleep, don't watch t.v., and don't go to socialize. Just an innocent space with a lot of quiet and calm and good air to breathe. What better air than that soaked in the aroma of coffee beans and baked goods to clear one's head.

I'm not happy here, or sad here, or angry here, or confused here. I am content and peaceful.

Today's Stella agenda:
-Drink coffee
-Blog
-Write a cover letter
-Listen to some music
-Get another cup of coffee
-Read Boal
-Continue job searching and budgeting

There is strategy behind the placement of each item on the list. The first two items are relaxing. The third is productive and easier to accomplish since I will be relaxed. Listening to music and another cup of coffee will erase what little stress my productivity may have caused. Then I will read Boal, which makes me feel intelligent and assures me that my 20 years of schooling is not going to waste now that I have gradated. A great feeling. And then the final item on the list is the most stressful but fully manageable after an entire afternoon of relaxing, and afterward I will feel like returning home before I get too stressed out in my innocent "3rd Party Place."

Never contaminate your innocent place with extreme emotion. It defeats the purpose.

That is my Monday. Many people hate Mondays. I know I have most of my life and I probably will dislike them again one day. Right now, however, Mondays are my days of peace.

TGIM

Where is your innocent place?

-C

Young and Determined

One of my strongest qualities is my determination. When I decide I want something I hit the ground running and figure it out. Sometimes I end up realizing that what I have been working so hard for is not actually something I want. That is okay! How would I know that if I never tried. The journey isn't about getting exactly what I have always wanted, but rather about figuring out who I am and what it takes for me to be happy.

When I was a little girl I had an imagination out of this world. I didn't just want to be a teacher or just want to be a ballerina. Nope. This little girl was going to be a teacher, an actress, a dancer, a singer, a hair stylist, a masseuse, a painter, a zookeeper, a wife, and a mother. I imagined building a house with a dance studio and a sound-proofed recording studio in the basement. The main floor would have the typical living room, kitchen etc. - the space for my family to live and grow. Upstairs I would have a room for my massage table, another for my stylist chair, another for my easel, and a sun room for grading papers. The zookeeper part would be my volunteer job on the weekends, so I wouldn't need a room for that!
When adults argued that I would have a lot on my plate and I might want to think about it a few more years, I would respond that I knew I could handle it. I couldn't imagine being happy without being able to do all of those things on a daily basis.

Obviously, logic and reason has since squashed the overly-romantic ideas of my five-year-old self, as there is no possible way for me to be all of these things at once. However, I give back massages all the time. I have done countless updos for my friends' dances, weddings, etc. I was a dancer until I was 18 and still love dancing in my car, in my room, and after 2 drinks. I have been in countless choirs and singing competitions and still karaoke every chance I get. I started acting when I was 8 and my last role was last year as the lead of a show called, "Gum." And as for the wife and mother thing, well, I will get to that later.

So see! I know this seems like a juvenile example of a complicated message, but what I am trying to prove is that you can do, and be, and have whatever you want. As long as you are determined. But we can't beat ourselves up when the life we always imagined doesn't look or feel like we thought it would. All we can do is ask, "Am I happy?" If the answer is anything less than "YES!", it is time to regroup and rid yourself of that which stands in your way and start reaching for he next shining star.

I have always wanted to be a teacher and I knew I could never give up the theatre. These are two constants in my life that I will most likely never stray from. I always imagined I would teach theatre in a classroom for 50 years followed by retiring and traveling the world. I would still like to teach in a classroom one day (and travel), but what I have realized is you don't have to be in a classroom to teach. You don't even have to be deemed "teacher." All you have to do is help someone by taking the knowledge of your craft and passing it on to them. That is all teaching is.

I am young and still learning how to be an active part of this world, but I am determined to go after every passion and goal that pops into my head no matter how far-fetched. Furthermore, I am determined to pass on any knowledge that I learn along the way to anyone who wishes to listen. I am determined to get settled here in Chicago. I WILL get a job that reflects my worth, and I WILL find a theatre or three that needs my specific expertise. These are the goals I am currently focused on. Once I accomplish them or change my plans I will move onto my next goal.

What are you determined to do? What did you want when you were five? Can you see any part of the person you thought you would be then in the person you are now? I bet you can.

-C

A Year

I don't feel the need for fancy font today.

A year ago today my Grandma Millie passed away. I would like to use this post to say a few things about my her. I hope you don't mind.

Many people are close to their grandparents, and I will not be conceited and demand that our relationship was stronger than most, but it was definitely unique. My Grandma Millie (My father's mother) and my Great-Grandma Luella (My mother's side) had a very large hand in raising me. As almost everyone knows, my mother had me when she was 17 and we were both lucky to have such a supportive family. My grandmas stepped in and made sure I was given a good and stable life. I owe them everything.

My Grandma Millie was a very eccentric lady. She was kind of over the top and harsh sometimes but her heart was always in the right place. Even though I went to school over 30 minutes away she never missed a play, dance recital, singing competition, choir concert, grandparent's day, or church musical. She taught me how anything can be turned into a very tacky (but marketable) 'crafty.' She helped me make fake lollipops when I decided to choreograph "Lollipop" for my girl scout talent show. She made me chocolate dipped peanut butter buckeye treats every Christmas, and would yell at anyone who tried to sneak one from my bag. She took me to Ponderosa and let me eat 1 plate of food and 3 kinds of desserts. She watched old musicals with me over and over and never acted like she was sick of them.

If it wasn't for her I never would have seen my dad growing up. He was immature and in over his head. She made sure to pick me up in St. Louis and take me to wherever my dad was in Illinois any weekend she could so that we could visit.

She took me to New Mexico and dressed me up like an Indian for one of the local pow wows. She took me yard-saling at 5 am and bought me 50 cent presents that would keep me happy for weeks. She took me out to breakfast at the Hen House afterward because she knew I was hungry after waking up so early.

She always supported me. Always believed in me. Always told me how proud she was of me. She told me I was beautiful. She told me she wished I would come around more. I told her I did my best. I am almost positive I could have done a whole lot better.

My Grandma died in her early 60's. She took care of me. She took care of our entire family. She even adopted 5 of my cousins and let me Great-Grandma live in the spare room. She never EVER took care of herself. That is what inevitably did it.

I love my Grandma Millie and I miss her so very much. I am certain she is in a greater state of peace now than she ever was on Earth, but somehow that doesn't make me feel any better.

I am sorry that this is an emotional and depressing post, but it is important to me that people know how special my Grandmother was. She was a mother to me.

In Loving Memory of Amelia Weatherford.
I miss you.

-C

A New Purpose

To the few of you who have been following my blog you might notice that I have deleted all but one post. I have decided to begin anew. I am in a new city, living a new chapter of life, and I need to start afresh.

This blog is still a space outside my head. It is still a place where I can vent my daily groans and share my happy moments. It will still be a place for me to share my Chicago-Times (aka experiences I believe can only happen in Chicago). The only change is that the moments I choose to share will be filtered. I am no longer going to say every little thing that is on my mind. I do that enough in daily conversation and it does not always lead me to the best end. Instead, this blog will share with my readers who I am, how I choose to live my life, what is important to me, and what I learn during this chapter of my future autobiography (Plug: You can pre-order my autobiography on Amazon.com for $39.99, which will be a freaking steal by the time it comes out in 2060 and the American dollar is forth .005 cents. Yes, I am joking).

Anyway, today was a wonderful day. I am re-reading Augusto Boal's Theatre of the Oppressed. It has been awhile, and since I have basically decided to dedicate my life to Boal's theories and practices I figured I should refresh my memory before I tell possible employers that I know what I am talking about.

I took my book to the coffee shop in my building and ended up meeting a really nice man who convinced me that blogging is a great way to network. For the past month I have been trying to master on-line networking. I understand Facebook. I am getting better at Twitter although I should probably have someone sit down and explain it to me in detail. Now, I am going to pursue networking through my blog.

This is only the beginning. Thanks for reading.

-C

Space Needed

Today I have decided to begin blogging. Tomorrow I will consider telling someone about it.

First of all, to all of those who know I have a degree in English and wish to post comments regarding my grammar and/or spelling: don't. I do not grammatically correct my thoughts nor do I spell check them. They are what they are.

I like how I used the phrase "to all of those" when no one even knows I have a blog at this point and I am not sure if I will even tell anyone or if it will be just for me. Time will tell. Plus I have a hard time keeping things to myself so I am sure someone will find out.

Anyway, why have I started this blog? Well there are two starting points. One is that I have recently been reading a friend of mine's travel blog. While reading I realized that this blog was not only allowing him to communicate his travel experience but allowing him to actually figure out what was streaming through his head. The other is that many years ago a wise woman told me that when your world gets to be too much to handle you have to be able to learn to put certain "things" in the "for God to handle box." What she meant was that I can't control everything and I need to be able to let go of that which I cannot handle or change.

While this was good advice, I have come to realize that part of the reason I cannot let go is because I haven't had a vehicle in which to transfer these "things" from my brain to somewhere else. In reading my friend's blog, I came to the conclusion that this whole blogging thing may be just what I need. A much needed space outside my head. The idea is to blog it, leave it, and move on. I guess I will just have to wait and see if it works.

Realizing this post is already lengthy, I will keep today's export of thoughts short. I laugh-cried today. Do you know what that is? Where you all of a sudden burst into an outlet of emotion that is both uncontrollable laughter and tears and you aren't sure if you are overly happy or incredibly upset? Well that is what happened to me today. The trigger was Fritz's ice cream. I have been part of a weight loss challenge and I was doing very well for about a month and then this week I screwed it all up. So instead of self-loathing and whining I worked out for 2 hours and then went to the grocery store and purchased $60 worth of healthy food, came home and cooked myself a delightful healthy meal, and then decided to sit down with my mother and brother and watch FRIENDS while eating an apple with peanut butter for dessert.

Just then, my father called and asked if anyone wanted him to bring home Fritz's. My favorite. I have wanted it all summer. I didn't get any. Everyone else did though, and as soon as my mother got off the phone she said, "I would have asked you if you wanted any but I figured you didn't." I responded with, "No, I have my apple and peanut butter." I took a bite, and then out of nowhere the laugh-cry exploded out of me.

When he came home with the ice cream I took a shower so I wouldn't have to watch them eat it. Some of you may be thinking how strong I am and think I deserve a pat on the back for walking away from a temptation, but the thing is every day there is about 100 temptations and ice cream is the least of my problems. Why then am I not talking about those other problems here instead of going on about some stupid ice cream? Well, because I am taking baby steps and there are a lot of things I have to admit to myself first before figuring out how to release them.

I hope this new found space will help me do this. I promise not to be all down-trodden in all of my posts, but this first one will just have to be left at melancholy since I am still trying to figure out if I was laughing or crying. I will update you when I figure it out.

-C