Ten years ago I was 22. I was three months into my first job as a social worker, fresh out of college, still unsure of what I was doing and how to do it well. I had court in a small rural town first thing that morning. I got screamed at by an upset parent, in the middle of a crowded hallway. I got chastised in court, by the Judge, for not following appropriate procedure. I was upset, questioning if I was cut out for this field. I went to the small local SRS office to regroup and vent before going to my next appointment with the same parent who had cussed me out earlier. I walked in to find everyone in the office huddled around the very small television watching in shock and disbelief, some crying, all with looks of unknowing on their faces.
It's true our world changed that day. We all felt a little less safe, even in rural Kansas. We all questioned a little more what we were doing with our lives, what mattered most, our own reality. Ten years ago I was still green, naive of the world around me, untouched by a tragedy of this proportion, although I had experienced personal loss and tragedy. We were inundated with the images of that day for weeks following the events. I came home from work every day and turned on the television and every channel was continuing to cover the carnage of September 11. Eventually you learn it's okay to turn off the television, it's not disrespectful to the lives lost to bring normalcy back into your life, to laugh when something is funny, to yell when something makes you angry, or to just enjoy your life again. So today, I woke up, remembered and said a silent prayer, and went about my day.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Alignment of Chaos
I am convinced whatever entities must all align in the world to create a complete and total breakdown of rational thinking, appropriate societal acceptable behavior, and basic common sense have been aligned for the last month and are wreaking havoc on my world, and quite honestly, I'm pissed about it and over it! So, Mercury move a little to the left, Venus up a smidge and over to the right. A little more. A little more. Now can sanity please set back into the Little Apple, that would be great, thanks!
Weird things happen to me on the regular. I have recently, in the last 24 hours, joked that my life is much like a Seinfeld episode, totally random awkward moments, with a smattering of wisdom and life lessons amidst the truly nonsensical. In honor of my Seinfeldesque life lately I leave one of my favorite quotes from the television show to sum up my last month, ( for the 4 people that read this I really hope one of you has watched an episode of Seinfeld).
"Whew. You know Darren, if you would have told me twenty-five years ago that some day I’d be standing here about to solve the worlds energy problems, I would’ve said you’re crazy… Now let’s push this giant ball of oil out the window."
Weird things happen to me on the regular. I have recently, in the last 24 hours, joked that my life is much like a Seinfeld episode, totally random awkward moments, with a smattering of wisdom and life lessons amidst the truly nonsensical. In honor of my Seinfeldesque life lately I leave one of my favorite quotes from the television show to sum up my last month, ( for the 4 people that read this I really hope one of you has watched an episode of Seinfeld).
"Whew. You know Darren, if you would have told me twenty-five years ago that some day I’d be standing here about to solve the worlds energy problems, I would’ve said you’re crazy… Now let’s push this giant ball of oil out the window."
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
A Decade of Work
Yesterday, May 31, 2011 marked my ten year anniversary of working as a social worker in the field of child welfare. At almost 32 years old, (YIKES!), I have spent 1/3 of my life working in this field. (At least I think that's 1/3, my math skills are horrible, hence the social work degree). When I went to college I knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to become a social worker and work with survivors of domestic violence. I did not, in any way, want to work with children. I spent my college years volunteering on the help line of the local domestic violence shelter, and when it came time to do my social work practicum in my final semester of college, I had it all worked out in my head. I already had connections to the shelter, I already knew how everything worked there, that's where I wanted placed. Little did I know, my advisor had very different ideas, and placed me with Juvenile Intake where I had to do direct work with children, exactly what I did not want to do with my social work degree.
Kids were too emotional. The work was going to be too exhausting, too emotionally draining, and why would people listen to me, I wasn't a parent, I didn't know anything about kids! At the time, I was terrified to begin my practicum experience, but once I got started, and began to interact with these kids, if only for a short time, I knew, working with children is where I would learn and grow the most as a human being, in this field. Ten years later, and hundreds of unique experiences, learning moments, heartbreaking losses, and countless smiles and laughs shared with amazing resilient children, and I still feel, this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm meant to do with my life.
In another ten years I may be talking about culinary school, or my first novel being on the best sellers list, or debating the idea of buying a matching mansion in the mountains for my summer home with my 200 million lottery winnings, but for now, I'm right where I need to be.
Kids were too emotional. The work was going to be too exhausting, too emotionally draining, and why would people listen to me, I wasn't a parent, I didn't know anything about kids! At the time, I was terrified to begin my practicum experience, but once I got started, and began to interact with these kids, if only for a short time, I knew, working with children is where I would learn and grow the most as a human being, in this field. Ten years later, and hundreds of unique experiences, learning moments, heartbreaking losses, and countless smiles and laughs shared with amazing resilient children, and I still feel, this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm meant to do with my life.
In another ten years I may be talking about culinary school, or my first novel being on the best sellers list, or debating the idea of buying a matching mansion in the mountains for my summer home with my 200 million lottery winnings, but for now, I'm right where I need to be.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Cars, huh, what are they good for?
As a single girl in her 30s (very early 30s by the way) I feel fairly confident in handling most things that come my way. I pride myself on being pretty handy when necessary. Leaky faucet? No big deal. A purchase where "assembly is required", no sweat. Flipping my mattress, or moving a heavy piece of furniture, it may take me a while, and I will most likely break a sweat and cuss like a sailor, but I will accomplish the task. Ten bags of groceries, three flights of stairs, one trip? Done it countless times. There is one thing in life that gets this single girl nervous though, car trouble. I hate dealing with car issues. I know the bare minimum about cars. I know how to check my oil, check my tire pressure (even own my own tire gauge), and if you give me enough time I can more likely than not change a flat. However, when my car starts shaking or jerking or rattling, I have absolutely no idea what to do except call my dad. "Um, Dad, there's something wrong with my car. It's doing something weird. No, I'm not sure what, some kind of jerky thing, or you know it's um.....it feels like it's uh, lurching maybe? Okay. Yep. No, I don't know when I first noticed it, it's been doing it a while. Why didn't I say anything sooner? I thought it would just get better on it's own. Yes, yes, you did raise me common sense. Okay, great, I'll bring it home this weekend thanks!" This conversation did not actually take place yet, but it likely will tomorrow.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Stress Free in Pink
After a very long, stress inducing, headache riddled week, when I arrived home Friday evening I was ready to destress. I spent the weekend getting every ounce of residual stress out of my body. I opened a bottle of wine and poured, put on some music and sang out for the world to hear while dancing in my kitchen, spent some time with my beautiful niece, whose only care in the world is giving hugs and trying to get someone to put on the movie about the "baby dogs" (Lady and the Tramp), making my grandma's chicken and rice soup and enjoying it with my parents while my dad told stories about eating it as a kid, and finally as the fat-free icing on the stress-free cake, what do I find on television tonight...Pretty in Pink. I'm sure if any one's reading this, some of you just groaned at the thought of Pretty in Pink. I do not care. You can't bring me down or change my mind. I love this movie. It's my favorite Brat Pack movie. I love everything about it. The eccentric Andie and the straight laced Blane falling in love while fighting the odds. And sure that's the story line in several John Hughes films, but there's just something about Pretty in Pink. I've seen it probably 50 times at least and I'll likely watch it 50 more. I can hardly wait to watch Iona tell Andie not to waste good lip gloss, or Duckie profess his undying love for Andie while riding his bike by her house, or for Blane to chase Andie out of the prom....oh 80s movies, you're the best stress relief ever!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Fall from Grace
Picture in your mind the most graceful image you can imagine. A seasoned professional ballet dancer on toe shoes. Jacqueline Kennedy commanding a room just by walking into it. A pod of dolphins moving through the raging ocean waters effortlessly. Do you have that picture of grace in your mind? Well I am the opposite of all of those images. I am quite frankly one of the clumsiest ungraceful people ever. I will and have tripped over nothing, literally nothing in my direct path of walking except my shoe or bare foot hitting the floor, and I have tripped. I once turned around to check out a guy who had just walked by me, and when I turned back around I walked directly into an overgrown shrub. In case you were wondering, that is not an awesome first impression to make. I also once tripped and fell down at least five steps about a third of the way down the steps in Bramlage Coliseum, taking a few people with me. Did I mention it was a conference men's basketball game, close to a sold out crowd? As if I hadn't realized I had fallen on concrete a genius in the student section felt the need to point it out by not only laughing and yelling, but also physically pointing at me. Thanks, guy. Unfortunately for me, and those around me, not only can I trip on a thread, but I drop things. A lot.
I have a friend who once dropped two full adult beverages, in a row, simply because she forgot to hold on to the glass. She did have an excuse, we had been consuming adult beverages for quite a while at that point, plus we were sidetracked convincing patrons of the bar our other friend was indeed Miss Kansas. (By the way it totally worked and we scored free drinks all night, hence my friends lack of ability to hold a drink any longer).
I generally do not have those kinds of excuses to fall back on when I drop things; it's usually just because I'm a klutz. Last week I ran down to the neighborhood grocery store by my office to make a salad for lunch. I created the perfect salad, placed the lid on securely, turned around to head to the check out lane, and promptly dropped my salad in the middle of the main aisle of the grocery store. I ate a frozen meal for lunch that day. Several months ago my cell phone screen went white and died. I was so upset. I am lucky it lasted as long as it did, I dropped that phone countless times, and several of them were from my outside balcony onto the pavement and rocks three floors below. I have two sets of wine glasses, neither are a full set any longer, because I have dropped at least one from each set and shattered it. Today was no exception to my abundance of grace. This morning, in a balmy 4 degrees, I ran down three flights of stairs in wet hair and no coat, (but did take time to put my snow boots on!) to start my car so it was nice, warm, and defrosted on my way to work. Thinking ahead. This was going to be a good day. As my foot hit the ground I slipped and dropped my keys in a snow drift. It wasn't a small snow drift. Needless to say, I was late for work today.
I have a friend who once dropped two full adult beverages, in a row, simply because she forgot to hold on to the glass. She did have an excuse, we had been consuming adult beverages for quite a while at that point, plus we were sidetracked convincing patrons of the bar our other friend was indeed Miss Kansas. (By the way it totally worked and we scored free drinks all night, hence my friends lack of ability to hold a drink any longer).
I generally do not have those kinds of excuses to fall back on when I drop things; it's usually just because I'm a klutz. Last week I ran down to the neighborhood grocery store by my office to make a salad for lunch. I created the perfect salad, placed the lid on securely, turned around to head to the check out lane, and promptly dropped my salad in the middle of the main aisle of the grocery store. I ate a frozen meal for lunch that day. Several months ago my cell phone screen went white and died. I was so upset. I am lucky it lasted as long as it did, I dropped that phone countless times, and several of them were from my outside balcony onto the pavement and rocks three floors below. I have two sets of wine glasses, neither are a full set any longer, because I have dropped at least one from each set and shattered it. Today was no exception to my abundance of grace. This morning, in a balmy 4 degrees, I ran down three flights of stairs in wet hair and no coat, (but did take time to put my snow boots on!) to start my car so it was nice, warm, and defrosted on my way to work. Thinking ahead. This was going to be a good day. As my foot hit the ground I slipped and dropped my keys in a snow drift. It wasn't a small snow drift. Needless to say, I was late for work today.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Bird Plague
A few months ago I attended a workshop in Wichita as part of my yearly ethics training which is necessary to renew my social work license every two years. Usually these aren't the most spellbinding of workshops, but this one was fairly entertaining. One thing I did take away from the workshop was the idea to start a gratitude journal, listing at least five things you are grateful for everyday, to help recognize the little things in everyday life. In the profession of social work, and child welfare in particular, it's very easy to get caught up in the negative, cruel, and distressing moments of each day, and let anything positive get lost in the shuffle. So for several reasons, I decided the idea of a gratitude journal was a good fit for me. Today I would like to share with the blogshpere something I am grateful for today.
Today, January 3, 2011, I am grateful for the simple fact I do no live anywhere remotely close to Beebe, Arkansas. (I suppose I should be grateful that on December 31, 2010 I was not remotely close to Beebe, Arkansas, but I just heard the story today.) For those of you who have not heard, in the hours before the New Year, thousand of dead black birds rained from the sky in Beebe, Arkansas. Thousands of dead birds! It's like the reality of Hitchcock or Poe. Dead black birds covering people's lawns, roofs, the town streets, a black bird massacre, and the reason for this is completely unknown to the people who are paid to know these things.
I cannot even begin to imagine being outside at the time of the black bird invasion. I likely would have suffered an asthma/panic attack and passed out in the middle of the raining of the birds. I am terrified of birds. Terrified. The evil eyes, the pointed beaks and claws, and the horrible sound of those flapping wings, it gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. Yuck, yuck, yuck!
So today, I am grateful to live in a community where men in hazmat suits are not walking around the town picking up thousands of dead black birds, bagging them, and sending them off to be examined for cause of death. The pigeon who did not fly off as quickly I wish it would of when I was walking to the courthouse today was enough bird drama for one day.
Today, January 3, 2011, I am grateful for the simple fact I do no live anywhere remotely close to Beebe, Arkansas. (I suppose I should be grateful that on December 31, 2010 I was not remotely close to Beebe, Arkansas, but I just heard the story today.) For those of you who have not heard, in the hours before the New Year, thousand of dead black birds rained from the sky in Beebe, Arkansas. Thousands of dead birds! It's like the reality of Hitchcock or Poe. Dead black birds covering people's lawns, roofs, the town streets, a black bird massacre, and the reason for this is completely unknown to the people who are paid to know these things.
I cannot even begin to imagine being outside at the time of the black bird invasion. I likely would have suffered an asthma/panic attack and passed out in the middle of the raining of the birds. I am terrified of birds. Terrified. The evil eyes, the pointed beaks and claws, and the horrible sound of those flapping wings, it gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. Yuck, yuck, yuck!
So today, I am grateful to live in a community where men in hazmat suits are not walking around the town picking up thousands of dead black birds, bagging them, and sending them off to be examined for cause of death. The pigeon who did not fly off as quickly I wish it would of when I was walking to the courthouse today was enough bird drama for one day.
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