Day 222: People of Walmart are Way Scarier in Person

I happened into a Walmart this evening and was a little daunted by what I found. Despite it being a Saturday evening, the parking lot was packed and quite difficult to navigate due to a constant stream of people wandering about, traffic congestion and multitudes of errant shopping carts. Once inside it was even worse. A kaleidoscope of people of every color and size wearing what can only be described as interesting clothing of dubious intent. It was like every decade was simultaneously happening at once with scraggly, unkempt, garish or mountainous people modeling off the fashions of the past. Who are these people that rush to the Walmart on weekend evenings for some sort of entertainment and why do they evoke such fear in me?

The place was seriously crowded which makes me wonder why so many people choose to do what appears to be their monthly shopping with 5-8 people of various ages in tow. Wouldn’t that be the worst time to try to do your shopping and why do they all seem to have so many other people with them? We ran in for a necessity after a day spent moving and were not prepared for the roaming bands of feral children, angry parents, bored teens and misguided singles. Walmart is a truly horrific place and if it were not for peopleofwalmart.com I would be lobbying some sympathetic congressperson for legislation to end their reign of terror. I know I’m a snob, this is not a shock to me, but there are not words to accurately convey the unique mixture of the truly misguided and the grossly exhibitionistic purveyors of this flea market-esque store. For anyone not sure I will help you to understand what is and is not appropriate attire for shopping.

Anything see-thru including leggings, pants, tanks, blouses, t-shirts and/or sweaters is not appropriate without a foundation layer protecting the unsuspecting public from viewing your butt crack, nipples or naval hair. Likewise, anything too short or too plunging that reveals the same unwelcome sights should be banned from your shopping wardrobe. Another popular, but extremely unjustified object of clothing popular at the Walmart and just needs to stop, are items that are too tight. If a child could wear it, it’s probably not for you. Other hints that something might be too small include if your butt cheeks look more like one big orb, your breasts are forced to either flatten painfully or burst forth like a corset wearing lady of the court, or parts of your abdomen are visibly oozing out from under your shirt or over your waistband.

I recognize that there is a need for places like Walmart. Society needs its public instruments of torture to keep the masses in line. We also need the humiliating entertainment that created the aforementioned peopleofwalmart.com. Still, I cannot help but wonder why people would choose to shop at a place that is poorly laid out, overcrowded, filled with screaming adults and children alike and employs what may be the least informative help in all of retail. Go to Target, go to the grocery, go to anyplace else or if that is not possible stop doing all of your shopping at the EXACT SAME TIME EVERYONE ELSE IS THERE. If you are so lonely or desperate for attention that you’re wearing an extremely ill-advised outfit to a discount barn on a Friday or Saturday evening, it might be time to rethink more than just your shopping habits.

Day 221: An Empty Backpack and 10 Million Airline Miles Sounds Pretty Good

I want an empty backpack. Contrary to the message most books, movies, TV shows, plays, religion and society tell us, I want to lead an unencumbered life. If you have no idea what I am talking about then you have not seen “Up in the Air.” The movie itself is not important, but what is noteworthy to me is the message it conveys as the substandard model for living. The empty backpack is a metaphor for a life not weighed down by the burdens of material possessions and people. An unfettered life is lighter, easier and better says the empty backpack philosophy, and I like it.

The moral to the story is so often that yes, you want a love relationship, you want a family, you want a big house filled with furniture and possessions and 100 pairs of shoes (okay that last one I kinda do want) and you want people that you are beholden to and things you are responsible for because those are the symptoms of a happy life. Well, I sat in the theater watching a movie about a character that is the opposite of this philosophy and realized that I wanted to be him. I want to travel 300 days a year for work and live out of hotels and have meaningless or accidentally meaningful interactions with strangers in snippets of time without any responsibility of following up with more contact. Why can’t we just have a nice conversation with someone without it leading to phone numbers or emails or Facebook friending?

I look at these moments as bubbles. You have a nice talk with someone who is in a similar boat, living out of a hotel for the moment, sans family or friends and you connect on that level. The conversation is driven not by a deep need to connect, but by momentarily similar circumstances. The moment is encapsulated in that unique circumstance, but come morning when you’re both leaving the hotel on the shuttle back to the airport and you see one another you simply nod, no further conversation is necessary because that moment was before and only before, you are not friends outside of that one bubble.

I want a lifetime of bubbles. I love my friends and family, but they are huge responsibilities and I am not up for the challenge. I’m a great long distance or Facebook friend. I love knowing that if I called Jenni up right now and said I needed someone to talk to, she would listen, but she doesn’t expect a holiday card or birthday gift or weekly calls to see how the kids are doing. I have too many things that I have filled my house with because I believed that is what responsible adults do. My reality, however, is that I love living in an urban locale because I don’t need a car or an excuse to have a small apartment without much stuff in it. In the burbs it is easy to feel second rate because you do not own a home and the requisite houseful of furniture to go with it. You also need a nice car, a spouse and a couple of kids to complete that picture. Without all that stuff, you just appear to be lacking.

Well, thanks to a semi-formulaic movie I realize I am not lacking and that I am the type of person for whom an empty backpack/nomad lifestyle might just work. I have too many things cluttering my mind and my living space. Maybe if I start by ditching the material goods, my mental and emotional clutter will begin to recede as well. I’m not a person who doesn’t care about others, but I hate the burden of constantly having to consider the feelings of so many other people as well as their opinions. Yes, I have a small apartment instead of a house, I’d prefer a subway to a car, I hate to clean and no, I don’t ever want children. That leaves a lot of room in my backpack for passports (old and current) and memories which are really the only trinkets worth saving.

Day 220: My New Kitten is Adorable and I Kinda Don't Like Her

Today we adopted a second cat from the Humane Society and while it is adorable and sweet (mostly) I’m feeling a little disconnected. Who doesn’t love a kitten? If I am having trouble connecting to what is arguably the cutest creature on the planet, does that mean there is something wrong with me? As a woman who exists on emotion, connecting deeply to friends and family, how can I not be a bad person if I don’t know 100% that I am going to love this little sucker? Let’s review the facts.

Six months ago my first cat died in my arms. Jeremy was 15 and I’d had him since he was about a month old. I got Sylvia two years later and for 13 years it was Jeremy and Sylvia, not exactly friends, but accommodating of one another. So now I have this new one and though she is super sweet, she growls at Sylvia and Mama (me) ain’t having that. You do not come into the big cat’s house and make her feel unwelcome when you’ve been in town 12 hours. I don’t have kids I have cats, so yes I’m a little overprotective. I know it has only been a day and I want to be pro-animal and let them work it out and pledge to love the new kitten, etc., but I’m really just waiting for her to screw up so I can boot her ass. That’s bad, right?

I’m sure these are growing pains. After all, Jeremy peed all over every place I’ve ever lived, my beds, my leather boots, roommates beds, clean laundry, rugs, and anything else that was between him and the litter box. Still, I kept him for 15 years and loved him more than I could have possibly loved a stupid kid. (okay, that’s probably not true, but what do I care, I don’t have any of those little people running around.) Currently, Coconut (the nom du jour) is sleeping sweetly in Sylvia’s bed and not growling or scratching the hell out of me. Oh yes, I forgot the scratching. Coconut needed a bath. I know it probably was not the wisest decision given that she was already ill at ease, but that cat smelled of twenty other cats’ urine and feces so I went forward. There was bloodshed, not all of it mine. Jeff also got cut up. Then there was the peeing on the rug. Apparently, the four-month old dislikes the litter boxes available to her. Awesome.

None of this is really the point, however, because my bonding issues go deeper. I want to love her, I want to give her equal footing with Sylvia since she is now a member of the family, but I’m not feeling it. I’ve fallen for people quicker than this and people are really annoying because they have their own opinions and feel the need to talk to me even when I’m grumpy, etc. Coconut is tiny and cute, but if she growls at my Fatgirl (Sylvia) one more time I’m locking her in the utility room until she’s big enough for Sylvia to legitimately kick her ass.

It’s now clear to me that I’m a crazy cat lady. I’ve written over 500 words on my cats. Though I promise you, if your hands were still stinging and bleeding and your favorite pj pants smelled like kitten poop you’d be a little fixated too. I want her to love me and she seems unsure, so until she comes around I’m holding a grudge. I may not be tiny and cute, but I'm lovable dammit! Bite me Coconut, you ungrateful shelter cat!

Day 219: What to Be or Not to Be?

I have decided to go back to school. This is partly because I like school and have always wanted to go back, but also because I seem to have no career options. Currently there are two educational possibilities: take a baking and pastry arts curriculum in preparation for working in and eventually owning my own bakery or getting a graduate degree in a useful field. “Useful” is the problem I am facing. What the heck does that even mean?

I would love to get an MPA and try to actually do good in the world, but the jobs are not numerous and the pay is not particularly great. The smarter option is probably an MBA but that does not guarantee a job either. Can you substitute an advanced degree for a lack in actual work experience? If I spend the next two years working freelance gigs and going to school full-time only to graduate and find out I still have zero job prospects I’m going to be a little pissed and still poor and unemployed. My other problem is that the things I love to do are not helping me career wise. I love to write and to bake, but my English degree thus far has gotten me bupkis so I am hesitant to get a masters in English or go full force into the culinary arts world which is more to prep me for my own business, not a paycheck.

So what do I do? Follow my dreams and do what I love or choose a path that has a better chance of getting me employed, but not making me happy? This is why we go to college and choose careers at a young age. In our twenties we don’t know how much the working world can suck your soul out of you nor are we jaded enough to plan for that kind of world. So we go to school, get our degrees, plan our path and out we go fresh faced and excited to be part of the workforce. I sort of got a late start, exiting college already aware that my English degree was useless and I’ve never quite recovered.

I’m 37, possessor of quality work skills and more than adequate intelligence, but not a solid resume. I don’t know what I want to do with my life and the things I do know I would like I am either not qualified for or not sure how to turn them into money-making careers. So back to school I go with the hope that a better degree will get me a job when my actual job experience has failed. I’m good at a lot of things, but how do you know which of the skills you are good at or like are translatable into the job world. If I’m going to spend a year or two in school pursuing it, I don’t want to take any chances. At some point I’m going to need an answer to the “what do you want to be when you grow up” question.

Day 218: Without Convention, Would I Choose to Give Up My Private Space?

Is there such a thing as too much together time? I don’t really get tired of my husband. He is an incredibly interesting person, he’s funny, sarcastic, pretty good to look at and well, there’s the fact that I love him. So maybe we don’t have an issue with being together 24/7, which means I am going to have a hard time adjusting to his living three hours away Monday-Friday. I think the problem is that I am a selfish partner. I want him here when I want him and away when I’m just a bit tired of not being alone. Living in a separate place however is way different than “hey, don’t you have some errands that will get you out of my face for 20-30 minutes?” Can a relationship survive when your personal lives become separate lives?

Society has an acceptable model for how relationships, and marriages in particular, are supposed to work. The two household possibility is not in that scenario. So how do I know it will work with us? I guess I don’t really, but I am hoping that the reality of our mutual love and respect will carry over despite not cohabitating. So much of our lives are based on what we believe we are intended to do or the way in which others view aspects of daily life. If marriage didn’t exist would you feel like your relationship was missing something without it? No, it is a societal and religious convention and most of us do it because once you fall in love we believe it is the thing to do. (Well, that’s not really why I did it, but for the sake of my point let’s go with it)

My goal for this next 18 months is to learn to be a full-time partner, but only a part-time cohabitating couple. The best-case scenario for me, as someone who is always looking to give convention the bird, is to maybe discover something that can actually help my relationship. Maybe living with someone is actually not the best way to go. I mean, I don’t necessarily get tired of him, but there are days when I wish we had a bigger house or maybe closet that he could hang out in for a while. Whoever dictated that we’re supposed to be best friends and spend every day together and blah, blah, blah? Let’s start doing what works for us and while I would not choose to live apart, because let’s face it I’m needy and there is no way I’m driving three hours when I have a headache and want him to make me feel better. On the other hand, this might be just what I need to rediscover the parts of myself I’ve forgotten or lost track of in the merging of our lives. Either way, it’s an exciting new challenge and I’m up for it.

Day 217: Trading Productivity for Contentment

If life were a miserable, lonely experience all the way through, few of us would make the effort to fight our way through it. On the other hand, if all we experienced were happy times we would never learn the value of the hardships we do endure. My blog sprang from an angsty and discontented place, but also a desire to do better and to be better. When in fact I succeed at finding a bit of contentment, my ability to write productively seems to dry up. So consider this to be it for today's blog. My lesson today is that even happiness has a price and for me, that price is my passion. I love to write, but I do not get motivation or drive from joy.

Day 216: Maybe we Need an Anchor

I am having one of the most fun, frenetic, months of my life and yet it is also a time of deep reflection and self-realization. It seems odd that such different avenues could convene in a single short time span, but I guess I'm just a skilled multi-tasker. Because I am prone to self-analysis, however, in the midst of all the joy and discovery I am left wondering what the genesis of this productive month might be. 

The easy answer is that Jeff is home after a year of deployment, but if that is true what does it say about me? Do I need a partner to be fulfilled? There is a part of me that wants to be the romantic, believer of soul mates, but the truth is more complicated. I am not a more fulfilled person because I am not alone, I am more fulfilled because my life is no longer on hold. 

Of course I love that he's home and it has definitely made me happy, but the better part is no longer putting my life on hold. I wasn't free to live as a solitary individual. My decisions still affected another person and yet that person was not here to share the burdens. I had all the pressures of a relationship, but not many of the benefits. So no, it is not simply his return. 

Happiness and self-discovery are never one dimensional issues. My own journey is benefitting from a certain relief now that my partner is home. I think it most likely that it is only through a relaxed and calmed mental outlook that we experience inner growth. So yes, in a way I needed Jeff to be home to get straight, but he is not the cure, he's not the clarity, he's my anchor that prevents me from ever straying into dangerous waters.  

Day 215: What if You Could be Better, Would You Trade in Your Family?

Have you ever found yourself wondering who you might be in different circumstances? If you were raised by different parents, a child of affluence or one of poverty, an only child or one of many? What if your education was the polar opposite from what you actually experienced or you were given the opportunity to flourish in sports or the arts? This is a topic I think about often as throughout my life I have felt that I was living in the wrong set of circumstances. I love my family, but as a child of adoption, I also feel somehow out of place. So now I am trying to make sense of who I might have been with who I am.

I never had the opportunity to study music or play sports because we did not have the money. I participated in school programs, but extra-curricular lessons were not an option. As nurturing and loving as my parents were, they also were not super attentive to my studying habits. I was a good student, but if I could make B’s without studying I contented myself with that rather than spending hours to get A’s. I could have used a little career counseling or direction when choosing colleges. It was not fun putting myself through school or guessing at what I should study. I am still looking for that perfect career to this day, and it makes me wonder, would I be happier or more successful had I not been adopted?

I have no doubt that I could not be loved more than any I have been by my family, but there is this nagging feeling. I needed more than I got. I know that it is taboo to say that , we are supposed to love and support our parents unconditionally. I do believe my Mother did the best she could, but I don’t think she quite knew what to do with me. I was mouthy and inquisitive and could never seem to get enough information. I think it about it. What if I were raised by people more capable of indulging my intellectual development or who could afford better schools or recreational opportunities?

Would I trade circumstances and never know my parents? Of course not, this is my life and I was gifted with a tremendous amount of love, but there are things I wish I had and think I would have benefitted from. I was not encouraged to pursue my interests because quite frankly we were poor and my Mother was exhausted. Why support my unlikely dream of being a singer or writer when it is more important to have a functional job to pay the pays. I’m not sure who I might have been, but I am working to finally give myself the support I might have missed out on as a child and young adult. I know my parents loved me, but love does not buy you advantages in a highly competitive world. I guess at 37 it’s probably time for me to start creating those opportunities myself and stop looking back, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder.