I write this after a long year and a half since my last post. I stopped blogging because I allowed that horrible seed of doubt called insecurity to grow inside of me and poison my blogging well with thoughts on how my day-to-day ramblings aren't as interesting as my ramblings about foreign lands. Yet I find that even that daily grind brings up these moments of irony and hilarity that allow me to remember that I don't need a foreign country to find a difference in culture and outlook. Those foreign lands also cost money--the kind that I am trying to get more of, but I missed writing, so here we are.
Since I returned, I realize that South America has become my life's biggest milestone. I feel I grew some new legs in that time that nourished my ability to continue to grow in the coming months after my return. It offered me the greatest gift of courage to seek out opportunities for things that were not easy or on a strict career path, but it's exactly what I was looking for. A fire under my ass. I was looking for a good burn to remind of me what it's like to voraciously leap out of a $1,000 ergonomically-correct-yet-ineffective office chair that otherwise sits beneath me... I'm currently collecting tinder perfect for fueling the next one.
As life would have it, I've experienced a lot of change since that milestone. Both fortunate and unfortunate, but let's start with the fortunate. I began volunteering with Free Arts of Arizona as the Volunteer and Outreach Intern for last spring semester, and now serve as an advocate and mentor. We provide therapeutic arts programs to disadvantaged youth in shelters, residential treatment centers and group home situations. In my experiences, I feel almost as if I am revisiting many of the children I grew up with, many who were never removed from their unfortunate home situations. I wish that child protective services could ensure these children that things will be better... Unfortunately, "better" does not come until it is reaction to the situation, instead of prevention. In this experience, I am taught courage through children who have faced abhorrent situations that no human should ever experience. This small action of providing an art project or positive distraction here and there is one that I believe in. In those moments, there's focus and there's creativity and thought. So, what is "better"? I don't know. I just hope we give these kids a taste of how it feels.
While rehabilitating my back after an injury, I decided I wanted to do physical labor for a conservation corps. I sought out some opportunities and applied. Why? Because I'm crazy. No back injury can phase me, SO SUCK IT! (damn foreshadowing)... I started work with the Coconino County Rural Environment Corps back in May and was chosen as a crewmember of a 10-person team in the Grand Canyon rebuilding part of the Kaibab Trail with the National Park Service. My first day of training in Flagstaff, I showed up with some light make-up on (so as to look my best on a first day, as I have done my entire life) and was immediately called out:
Instructor: "Is that...Is that glitter?"
Me: "Oh, uh, I think it's in my blush?"
Instructor: "Well...I think that's a first. Wow....*ahem* Well everyone, now I'm going to show you how to poop in a hole."
I threw them for a loop. What was I doing there? Well, I think that being able to see the fruits of your labor is important. One of the number one complaints from those in office positions is that there is no tangible evidence of all of those logged hours. The ability to work with your hands allows you such a luxury, and I was to work in the grandest canyon in the world as a job. Yes, it was for pittance, but it was an opportunity that I would have regretted seizing.
-I hiked down to the Colorado River.
-I watched the sun set and rise over cliffs and monuments.
-I woke up at 4:45 in the morning and in the largest composting toilet that you have ever seen. We nicknamed it the poopzilla. After using that, no one can ever say I'm not green.
In addition, I cried, took muscle relaxers every night, and did not take a proper shower for 8 days of the sweatiest work I have ever done, but never thought I could do. I surprised myself and realized how rewarding that feeling can be. Next week, I re-injured myself by simply picking up my niece and then laid in bed on and off for three weeks. I was heartbroken to not be able to finish my service. My disappointment was an amplified response to the one I had to the game of "Sorry" that I played as a child. I have a flare for self-pity that really is quite impressive when I turn it on...
Pity doesn't pay the bills. I sucked it up. I applied for jobs left and right and asked people to ask their friends and eventually received a call that the Tempe Center for the Arts needed a part-time office assistant to come in. I took it immediately. I started working 40 hours a week before long and helping out with events more directly, so I got some of my groove back in the work force. It felt like I had one of those career thingamabobs. Still, I had no medical insurance and had acquired a knee that clicked and stuck funny like a rusty door hinge and a back that threatened to go out on occasion. So, I needed it and the the poor little TCA just couldn't afford to offer it to me. I decided to take a chance once again, and I applied for a job with ASU. I WON the grand prize of the position of Receptionist, Sr/Office Asst.
Yes. That long dual-title just to say that I work at a front desk. Apparently someone was offended that both duties of assisting in the office AND receiving people were not identified in their title. I find that neither of those titles sounds any more interesting than the other, so it's like doubly-boring BUT I GET BENEFITS...at the cost of a pay cut :P I will say one thing, I have SIX student workers to help me answer those phones. YEP, I am a big deal here. Now my daily routine takes place here at the old ASS-U. I will have to post some of the fantastical stories from the calls and visits that take place. Some stories make me both happy and positively terrified for the future of the world...
I will also write about Dad. He passed away over two weeks ago and things feel so strangely still and yet in total upheaval. One of his favorite quotes was: "Oh how daily life is..." Indeed. Till then.
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