i hate fine china.

So it's the holidays again. I guess. Not yet, but I've been doing enough festive stuff that I feel like I'm living three Christmas's over and over and over. At work, we're decorating trees. At home, mom is yelling at dad about grandpa and thanksgiving dinner. A few weeks ago, she said that she wanted to skip thanksgiving this year and go for a hike. She didn't want a turkey, she just wanted to go somewhere for the day. Sounds nice, but I haven't been raising turkeys for nine months not to eat one nor to celebrate, quite possibly my favorite holiday. So after listening to Jason's stories about three turkeys, a million cousins and uncles with kids, his mother baking and cooking and laughing and drinking all day, and his grandmother getting sauced up and telling crazy stories about homeland Austria... I think that sounds a little bit better than my mom freaking out the whole holiday, eating off of china that no one wants to wash, and my grandma saying something really funny that my mom gets totally offended by and storms out.

last thanksgiving was almost classic. Preston watched the killing of Doug the turkey the night before. He was supposed to take pictures. I don't know why I thought that was a good idea. But it was Jason's first time killing anything and he didn't tie the rope very tight and while Doug was being bled out, flopping around bleeding, he fell into the creek, Jason jumped in after him, and he was still flopping so he took a log and smashed his head off. Not exactly pretty, but once the blood was washed off and we had a pretty darn nice looking bird being cleaned in the sink, we all could laugh about it. All but preston and mom did not laugh.
It was the most awkward dinner ever. But then again, dad broke open a little bit of wine and we got a little giggly. Mom didn't because she didn't want grandpa to think that she was a bit of a drinker, so she just had that sour look on her face as she tried to make conversation without stating the elephant in the room... that no one wanted to eat Doug. And then Jason, dad and I just started calling him Doug and saying "Doug is delicious" and "please pass the Doug" and I'm not sure why I love this story so much or why I feel the need to tell it a million times, but it's funny to me.

In an ideal world, I'd love to have thanksgiving with all the family, even my late uncle's wife and step kids and their kids and cook and laugh and drink and make fun of grandma and watch her laugh and eat off of paper plates and then take a nap and build a fire and play games and invite all my friends who have thanksgiving so far away. I'd eat another doug or two and stuff him with home grown garlic and onions and have cranberry sauce even though I never actually like it but I try it anyway and mashed potatoes that take a lot longer to make then they do to eat.

I think the holidays are beautiful and I will try to stay positive. All I know is this holiday, I am going to be "Jason's girlfriend" and play in his mother's awesome big kitchen, cooking for a million people that I don't know but who are actually grateful. And I hope to god we don't eat off of china.

first snow.

it's cold. my fingers have that numbing feeling where you can tell that the blood is having a hard time pumping through the veins. i'm tire, but i've been up for hours. today is my day off. not that my days on are all that stressful, but today i'm work free. and i've got a million things to do.

first thing on my list is to take back all the prizes for the pie bake off. jason and my mom won. i was the only other pie that entered. people came out to taste test, mostly friends and a couple of people that have been peering on my website. a lot of people emailed and called. no one actually came out based on the $50 worth in advertising i did with the local paper. i did get more hits on the website, but that was pretty much it.

and i'm having a tough time right now, despite jason's attempts at cheering me up by saying that he had a wonderful time. i'm becoming disillusioned in the glassy eyed way of slow realizations and multiple failed attempts. i guess it's odd because even in b.g. when i tried to get something together, it worked. i had a bustling knitting group with new members coming and going all the time in a coffee house that loved us so much we got free pastries. and publications that came out every couple of months that people loved as i handed them out in the streets.

and now i'm questioning my lifestyle shift and if it is where i want to be at this point in my life. i guess the chickens as an impulse buy was fun and i love my ladies, but something keeps getting into my chicken house and eating them... or sometimes just half of them. yuck. all my ducks disappeared but one. my goat tried to headbutt me. my turks aren't selling. and my pool is a terrible shrimp pond.
i'm having dreams of working in a vineyard in tuscany. it's beautiful, just me under the supervision of some amazing old woman who knows all the secrets of her grapes and how to make the best wine and cheese and breads. i have friends and little stress and no student loans or libraries to send me to collections.

my grandmother is in the hospital. i hung out with her and watched the browns game. the next day her health turned and i'm not allowed to go see her yet. i don't know what is wrong or how she's doing or anything. it's depressing.


and my mom keeps asking what i want for christmas. if i stay here, i'd like some rugs for my terribly cold floor in the house that is forever unfinished. but what i really want is some good running shoes and a full tank of gas to get me somewhere... a place where i can finish a renovated house, have a successful shrimp harvest, sell all my turkeys, and have the best damn pie bake off that the whole community comes out to see.


i tried to go out with friends last night. it kinda cheered me up. there is this boy matt that both bethani and norman are in love with. the whole night was kinda funny watching the way that both of them interact with him. he is rather charismatic and chatty and fun, but the way that they both vie for his attention is hilarious. we saw a girl that reminded me of a bit of val, only with a less beautifully unique voice. she sang songs about love in three four time and about leaving and whatnot. it sounded like she was the most normal person in the world the way that A + B always equaled C in her songs. I chatted with her a bit, trying to hold my sarcastic tongue just long enough to offend her only once and mention Ashley Judd's boobs only one time... and it was tough to get it down to that. Then we went to my favorite dive bar in Akron and i kinda fell in love with the little mini-city. Granted, i would get sick of it much faster that toledo (one year) but it was so nice to get away from thinking about dead chickens and failing endeavors.

in any case, i'm hoping to start writing again. i'm not sure if it's going to be a book about chickens or not. i recently read an article about a woman who has a horse rescue stable in southern ohio and you could tell in the tone that she was tired as a woman in a loveless marriage with no hope of divorce in sight. she kinda droned on about how some days are better than others and one time she was in love with a horse but he's long gone. i guess maybe our lifetime is so much longer than those we love some times that it's almost a pain to keep going. like watching dog after dog die. it's tough to get a new puppy.
maybe we should all keep tortoises as pets. they'll outlive us all.

and jason is out of town during the week now. it's nice that he's making money and doing what he loves and i kinda like the freedom of not having to be home all the time or him wondering why i don't invite him when i go out. my weeks are mine again and my house is clean and i get to see my friends on any given night and sometimes i'm scared and lonely and terribly bored, but it's not too bad. my beer lasts a lot longer too. i stare at my fish tank. and it will be nice to have him actually bringing money in by doing something that he is good at. i hope that he can save it and put it towards something better than this. i'm kinda disillusioned at that as well though. he never pays his bills; student or medical or phone. he just got out of living at a place where he didn't have to pay rent and he still didn't save any money. all his stuff is at my house. i like it when he comes back, but in the back of my brain, i'm picking everything apart.
i guess that's why i can't stay in relationships. ever. i just pick everything apart and only see the bad. but i think it's also the winter blues setting in. that and the fact that he set up this thing where the turks have free local delivery, but since he got this job, he can't deliver... which means it's all up to me now.
maybe i kinda feel like i get stuck taking care of everything. or maybe it's that everything taking care of me. i don't know. i just think that the days are getting shorter and i'm pissed off and my chickens are dying and mingah keeps dragging them from their resting places after they've been there three weeks which is completely disgusting and i wake up to her munching on their heads. i scream. i yell. i tell her how gross that is, but she still does it. and as long as my chickens keep dying, she's going to have plenty of new chew toys and i'm going to be chasing her around with a shovel, screaming.

ok, i'm done ranting. i wish i had friends here to talk to. i think the maturity level lends more to me taking care of them rather than a mutual friendship where i can talk about how i'm doing without them listening while thinking about what they are going to say next. i guess i wouldn't know what to say to me either. so maybe i don't blame them.



it's beginning to look a lot like christmas.

help

So the answer to the previous post is a no answer on a cell phone. pfft. so much for trying.


in any case, i'm having a couple of things go a bit wrong, but hey, what's new.
first - i'm broke. not just broke but completely and hopelessly broke. i'm almost a thousand dollars behind in payments on my student loan. one of my paychecks is only 200 dollars. you can see my dilemna. what happened is i was behind a month, which made the total be 250 dollars, which meant that i had to wait to collect two paychecks as i cannot seem to keep more than a dollar in my checking account at any given time. but then by the time i got the 250, there was another bill and it was up to $375. geez! that's two whole paychecks. which started getting me down a bit. and i'm behind on chase and my substidized student loan. goodbye credit score.

so all of this has me thinking about that great dichotomy in my life. the choice between having money and being unhappy or being broke but loving life.
and every day i keep thinking that the whole loving life thing is quite a bit contingent on having money. and i rack my brain every day for ways to rectify this problem. just a few minutes ago when i was trying to figure out how to defer my student loans, i almost checked the box that i was going back to school. that would take care of the whole deferment thing. but then again, that would also add to the debt. and what the hell would i go to school for anyway, which is probably why i have not gone that route.

and it's funny, but i stopped going to my therapist because, well, i was paying her $50 an hour out of my pocket for her to listen to my blabber on about how my life is going and honestly, it didn't really get me anywhere. i liked going there because i could vent, but at the same time, i kept coming home and doing the same goddamn things with the same results.



so here i am, on my own and trying to figure it out. i have a wet dog in my lap, my feet are quite a bit cold, and my stomach is curling up into knots. the idea of becoming a waitress is looming with more and more impending doom. i can't put off my loans any longer. i can't seem to make the bills.
and yet i'm held back by this strange feeling that i owe everyone something. like everything that anyone has given to me, i need to repay back ten fold. i guess that's why i never care much for quitting jobs. it just seems strange to me that a business would spend money on training you and you just turn around and leave. i keep thinking that if i can just work around my current job, i'm sure i'll find something perfect that could supplament it.
and maybe i have. i'm interviewing for a mentor program for inner city kids in canton. it's from 5 - 8pm every day, which is nice because my winter hours at the nursery are 10 - 3 which leaves a bit of time for a nap in between. i guess all that i know is i can't have a full time job. i suck at those, unless they are active or i get to change up where i am.

anyway, i went to the akron children's hospital website and wanted to apply to work with kids there, but i ended up filling out an application to be a cleaning lady. they still haven't gotten back to me.
i just submitted my resume to work in the office of levin furniture for nights and weekends. i think that might be one step up from working with food, although sadly when i saw the now hiring sign outside of burger king, i did think about it for a second. hah. how about that. i'm paying my student loans with my salary from burger king.





in any case, that's life i guess.




the neverending job / money thing continues. but i also have another stresser right now that's kinda stressing me. jason.

ok, so this kid is great. always eager to help and we have fun together and plan things. pretty much we are the same person, only split into two bodies. he gets excited about the same things that i get excited about and we certainly get into a lot of mischeif together. i think that he eggs me on in some of my endeavors, but whatever. we'll save that for another time.
anyway, his downfall is the same thing that i fret over a lot, only he doesn't fret. he has no money. he's living at spring hill for free. he works a job with hours so flexible, he doesn't really have to go in on any given day.

well, now he's moving out of his place for free. he has nowhere to live, and a job that doesn't pay him enough to get a new place.


this means i'm freaking out. and he is a bit worried now as well. he turned in his two weeks notice at spring hill and was planning on moving out, but he just doesn't know where. which makes me nervous as i'm sitting here with my car full of his stuff, wondering where i'm going to dump it.
now don't get me wrong, it's not that i don't like him and all. i do. it's just this claustaphobic feeling is coming pretty hard at me again and i don't think that there is anyway he could move in and work fixing the house in exchange for rent. in a relationship that's evil in the eyes of the lord, no less.

pretty simply, define hell. yup. something like that.


so i'm hoping upon hope that he gets a place and fast. i'm definately going to miss his old house at spring hill. granted, it did kinda suck when i slept over only to wake up to a busload of kids taking a tour and i had to sneak out the back door with my bra under my arm, trying not to make a sound as i ran down the super long driveway, but hey... it's better than my house - at least he had heat.


today is my day off, which usually is about reprieve or getting something done or feeling better about yourself, but i'm not feeling that today. i don't even have $5 to run down and get a 40 and some cigs so i can sit on my back porch and whine about my situation. i owed the movie rental place that and they happily took it.


ok, now to clean up dog poop as mingah has lost all control of her back end. yuck

return of a ghost.

J.D just emailed me. This is the J.D that I dated in high school. The J.D that may or may not have faked a heart attack and gotten carted out of school. The J.D that lied about drugs making his lungs collapse, that was the star of the basketball team in his brain, the one that scared the shit out of me by stopping in the middle of nowhere to yell at me for... um, not sure what. The J.D that yanked me from the homecoming dance because his socks were too tight or too short or, I don't remember. The same boy who took me to the park to star watch on a freezing cold night and insisted that we fucking sit there until we see a shooting star because that means that we are made for each other.
We never saw that fucking shooting star.

And of course, it's been ten years. And of course I've only thought about him twice, usually while driving by the spot in the woods that he drove to yell at me after homecoming for embarassing him about his socks or something and I almost walked home half pissed off and half ashamed that I would have to go home and tell my parents that they were right and he was an asshole.

But then again, ten years ago, I was all about the jerks. I like them. I'm not sure what evolutionary chain thing that is because of, but some young girls like the mean ones. I guess maybe part of it is from idolizing Beauty and the Beast, where just with her innocent love, the maniacal isolated prince/beast changes into something amazing... a maniacal isolated prince with a little wifey.
Or was it the Phantom of the Opera where the maniacal isolated deformed dude falls in love with the underappreciated chorus girl and makes her a star. But then again, he disappears alone in that one, which always made me sad.
Of the Little Mermaid who falls in love with a different species, changes herself, sacrifices her voice and he still rejects her. but then again, that's a bit of a stretch.

Point being, 10 years ago, I really thought that I could melt this asshole's heart and bring out the good in him that of course only I saw.


In any case, the email threw me off a bit. I kinda half expect a half assed myspace comment or something, which is the cheap and easy way out. Maybe it's because I put the accent over the second e in my name making me very difficult to search for. But I got his email through local harvest, a website designed to bring local growers to their local customers.
Could it have been that J. D was searching for a thanksgiving turkey and found me? Or was it more of a concentrated search and that website is the first thing that comes up on google?


Oh well, only one way to find out. Now for the call....

you need a heart to live

so i'm not at work. i called off today to play a show in detroit. the show never happened. and i didn't have the heart to go into work today. call it boredom or burnout or just the weather being 90 degrees with nothing really to do, but i didn't want to go. so i didn't.

and all morning, i've just been thinking of all the things that i should be doing. and i guess i'm finally getting the fall out of a failed shrimp harvest fest. but fuck that. there was no way to succeed. ---hey janee, you are going to make money on this right? you won't let us down? we need to make money. hey, what kind of advertizing did you do? did you mess that up too? everyone is counting on you. everyone is supposed to have fun. aaaand we're going to make money, right?


i guess i don't feel like a failure as much as i'm angry. it doesn't seem right. i mean, i didn't pay for the shrimp and the feed in the first place, so maybe i don't have a "right" to be mad, but i also didn't sign any contract stating that this was going to succeed/make money/be everything that everyone wanted.
and i like feeding shrimp and eating what i grew and getting together with people.
i didn't like getting pushed into charging for parking or when my mom cried because she didn't sell any crafts or when my uncle who flew all the way up from North Carolina for the first time in years just to boss me around about how to harvest shrimp.

i feel like there is a spring inside of me, linking my throat to my pelvis, just wrapping itself tighter and tighter around itself. and i don't want to eat. and i don't want to get out of bed. and i don't want to breath.

but here i am, out of bed, cheese sandwich slowly digesting with slow breaths lilting from my sunken chest. my mom yells from the other room. i turn up my music. i try not to cry.


the turkeys are all in the coop. eating corn. panting. waiting to die. i've only sold three of them. i lost the deposit checks for two. i don't have enough money to pay the place to get them slaughtered. i hope my dad doesn't ask me how many i've sold. the only relief i have is that i've paid for them and their feed and their makeshift house. i figure i've got at least $500 in them. and now i'm questioning why i ever did it.

the day of the shrimp fest, my favorite chicken died. i don't even know why i keep favorites anyway. they always are the first to die.

but anyway, after shrimp harvest fest, i stayed away from my family. i ate the best dinners, shrimp cooked ten different ways. after work every day, jason would have my house filled with good smells. and my money being so short hits me even harder as we sold about 8 tshirts. we have 62 shrimp fest 2007 tshirts left. ow.


ok, enough about that. i think i'm trying to turn myself around and get in a different gear. the whole morning i spent looking for jobs and working on the highmill website. i think i only submitted one application. wait, maybe two. i don't know why, but i got on a hospital kick this morning and got very excited when i saw a posting for a social worker part time for akron childrens. they needed a licensed applicant, which i'm not, so i applied to be a janitor. i always imagine that if i start at the bottom, maybe after meeting me and i'm not late or terrible, then maybe i could see what other opportunities they have. that didn't work out so much for the red cross, but then again, there aren't really very many paying jobs for them anyway.
i also have the number for an after school program in canton, which would be nice. working 3 - 7 or so just playing with troubled kids would be nice. i think it's through the canton crisis center. i'm just trying not to think of all the money that i don't have.

i guess i do have a couple of encouraging people who keep stopping by. there is one woman who emailed me pictures and suggestions about what to do for next year's shrimp harvest. i chatted a bit with her and tried not to seem too doom and gloom about how it's probably not going to happen next year, but whatever.

and it took me only a few days to get enough sleep to think of my next project. a project that my parents can do NOTHING in association with except for come. i have no idea where this idea came from, but it got stuck in my head like chewing gum.
i'm going to host a pie baking contest.
yeah, like i said, i have no idea where this came from. maybe from reading too much literature from the health department, but i think that i found a loophole where i don't have to get any permits. it's kinda like a bake sale, only people can try the pie right there.
each person is to bake 2 of their favorite pie and enter for a $5 fee. then on the day of the bake off, admission is free to the public, but it's $1 if you would like to judge. anyone who wants to judge gets a fork and a voting ballot and then walks around, tries the pies and votes for their best. awards are given for best crust, most diabetic friendly, most fruity, and best in show.

i'll probably use the entry fees from the bakers all towards prizes. and the $1 judging fee will go towards forks, electricity and advertizing. i hope it works! i've really got to start pounding the pavement to get people to enter now.

i just have this idea in my brain of little old ladies coming out with their faces full of pride with all these beautiful pies everywhere. my mom can sell her crafts. i'll have a couple of turkeys out with a sign up sheet for thanksgiving turks... and now thanks to jason, we're going to have turkey breasts for sale and turkey sausage. genius! the guys who are too big for any oven (and i've got quite a few of those guys that would max out a restaurant oven) get sent to the butcher. slice off the white meat that most people love and use the rest for some garlic and spiced sausage. delicious.

so anyway, i don't know. i hope i get that hospital janitor job or something. i just need something and i certainly need it part time to avoid burn out. i would love some cooler weather, but i'm not looking forward to freezing cold nights. oh! i'm also painting my back room so i don't have to sleep in the un-insulated attic of my house anymore. maybe i'll get a roommie. not looking forward to that, but then again, not enjoying the guilt trip from dad either. so someone to share bills with would be good.

ok, i'm off to make a to do list, regain my focus, and maybe get a bottle of wine for later tonight and head up to akron to forget about turkeys and chickens and bake sales and crafts.



p.s. go tribe!

muggy

It is incredibly hot and muggy out today. I went to work and then left for a long lunch, came back and then left early. 90 degrees and humidity is crushing.

and my life seems to be a bit out of control as of late. for a bit, i think i had it stabilized, but then as my sister is calling me as i'm driving away from my shrink appointment and ruins my peace of mind that only 50 bucks and a woman who will listen can give, i kinda realize that i don't have it all in control.

i'm kinda in a rut. i know what i want to do, but i don't know how to get there. i want to be in an integrated community that shares my ideals of self sustaining and raising your own food. i don't want to live next door to my parents anymore. i don't know if my current job will be able to support me. i think that i might have to make a bit change, but then again, little me and my anxiety problems have it a bit rough when it comes to even thinking about stuff like that.

it kinda came to me when i was making my sweet potato order. we didn't get our starts this year because we placed the order too late. i was thinking about placing the order now for next year when i thought -what the fuck, do i want to be here next year?


so now i don't know. i guess nothing will really change until after shrimp harvest, which is on september 22nd, hint hint, mark your calanders. i guess really it won't be until after november when the turkey slaughter happens, but maybe in the pale blue months of january and feb, i can pull together the pieces of my brain and figure out where i'm going from here.

all that i know is that wherever i go, it will be away from here.

sisters are silly

so my sister came into town which is more of a soul searching -what the fuck- expedition than a visit. most of the time i wonder how we can be related. the other part of the time is spent wondering what planet her brain is on because it's not here.
she's soooo weird. and i'm not talking about weird like -15 yr olds think their parents are weird- weird. i'm talking about all out -what the hell is she thinking- weird.

so she came into town. i got the band booked at a local place in akron so that she could come see us play. i couldn't tell if she was texting or trying to take pictures for the most part. she kinda liked it i guess because after we were finished, she told me that i should go on american idol. (as a sidenote, i dislike american idol and would in all honesty not make it past the first round... and that's just not me being self-depricating or anything, i'm just not cut out for super pop music marketed en masse.) then she bought an excessive amount of really good beers, as it was going to be only us two, and went back to my house to chain smoke on my back porch and call chip with updates.
and yes, if you were wondering, she is still with chip; the 40-something yr old abusive jerk who calls her malleable, who threw her cell phone/wallet/purse out the window of a moving car, who punched her windshield out, who strangled her while drunk one night.... eh, you get the idea. so she's still with him, not living with him, just still "in love" although i'm not sure how it can be love if it's based on her lying to him and him being jealous of everything that she does. she says he's changed, but anyone who has ever seen a lifetime movie knows that he hasn't... but then again, that's coming from the network where everyone's "first time" ends in teenage pregnancy. but on the other hand, statistically speaking if he has a history of violence, then he is extremely more likely to do it again. but then again, if you think that everyone who has been violent will continue to be violent cannot believe in the court system or any sort of reform and while i may be a cynic, i'd like to think that people are not inherently evil or anything.
so i guess here's these two polarities. on the one hand, she's headstrong and says she's in love and she very well could be if love also comes in the form of pathological lying and manipulative jealousy. so maybe i'm just being stupid and i should be happy for her that she's found someone that she wants to buy a house with and marry and make babies with. *shudder* ick blah ick.
on the other hand, that's my sister and i know she's malleable and he should just stay the fuck away from her and go live his life somewhere else where he can't hurt her.

and it's funny but the topic of conversation rested quite a bit on illegal immigration, which i of course do not agree with her staunch stance on deporting everyone, along with the topic of babies. now, admittedly, that's not something that i think about often. i think that babies kinda remind me of overripe melons with squishy skulls that have an odd odor about them even when they have not soiled themselves. they are kinda cool, i guess, but it's never been anything that i'm crazy about. they are just kinda there.
but... my sister really wants one.

ick.


i repeat ick.


so i don't know. i think after a couple really good beers, i referred her to a sperm bank where she can pick what traits she would like to mate herself up with to create a good kid. amazingly enough she wasn't really offended by that, in fact, i don't think that she caught my cynicism at all because she kept right on plowing through with -baby-baby-buy-a-house-and-get-married-and-more-babies talk. it was really weird. she talked about this perfect life almost down to the color of her walls and the two kids and the backyard and all that, but then it seemed like as a sidenote she would insert chip in there. it's like, tomorrow i'm going to go to the store and buy milk and eggs and then get my nails done and then go to the gym and then go home and go to bed and i'm really happy about it all... and i'm going to do it with chip. i think in english, that's the passive noun where if the sentence started out with the name of the person, that would be more active. e.g. chip and i are going to the store to buy milk etc.
now, i thought about this and that could mean a few things. for one, maybe she's trying to convince me that this life will make her happy and she's just trying to slip the douchebag in there like i'm not going to notice. kinda like a list of things that are in the fridge that you could eat for dinner "honey, i have steak or baked beans or pork chops or worm castings and rotten cabbage" to which the reply would be "sounds great".

... and yes, i did just compare chip to worm castings and rotten cabbage.

another reason for the blah blah blah, oh and with chip sentence structure could be that she just wants this perfect life that she's been dreaming about forever and ever and she's got it all planned out and the best candidate for right now is that guy over there that she keeps sleeping with because she can't find anyone better.


i don't know. as the night progressed she called up chip and said that we were going to bed right then when she knew we weren't and then her fake confession that she has a problem with lying and she doesn't know why.
duh.
if you are dating a boy that hates when you talk to other boys and gets mad at you when you do, are you really going to tell him who you talk to?

i just don't understand how you can really build a relationship on being excited about watching two nights of american idol together on your flat screen.


le sigh, so that's my sister and this is my frustration. sometimes i think that if i can just put it down on paper, these calculations would jump out at me and tell me how to proceed or that there is some sort of pattern that i could take and dodge for the next time or something. but alas, here i am thinking -on one hand - but on the other hand- with little if no resolve. i do know that it bothers me and i'm in the same position that i'm always in; if i say too much, she retreats and doesn't talk, but if i say nothing then will i lose her completely?
damned if i do, damned if i don't.

may 2nd

So it's the second of may already, sheesh. I'm waking up slowly today. The coffee maker is groaning and hissing at me and the window beside me is leaking in just a bit of morning air. I have that just showered clean feeling, which isn't going to last long as I have to go to work in the greenhouse today and by the end of the day, I'm usually covered head to toe in 3 different types of potting soil and I've watered my feet more than I have the plants. I'm a terribly clumsey person and I'm extatic that all I've dropped so far have been hearty plants that just kinda bounce and I just sweep up a little dirt.

Collage night on Monday was fun. I like getting out a ton of magazines and strewing them all over the floor while drinking wine. Bethani brought her new friend Nick and he has really interesting stories about working with deaf kids and camping, which was nice for Jason as meeting interesting people who actually do stuff around here is rare. Norm came along too and I guess he is getting along with his girlfriend and feeling better about himself. He sent out the demo to a couple of places, which was cool, and he's excited about the new ducks that I got him for his mom for her birthday. It's going to be funny to see what he constructs for a duck house as he is not very construction savvy. Maybe his dad will lend him a hand.

Also, last friday Jason and I took a trip up to Amish country to pick up 30 turkeys. He kinda scared me as on the way there, it sounded like he was getting nervous and didn't want to do it. It was all my idea and I've been talking about it forever and I was really excited to meet a guy who was close that would sell me birds for 4.50 each instead of having them shipped from a hatchery for 7.50 each plus shipping. So I ordered thirty and the trek up there was a real pain in the ass. He was going to meet us in mount hope to deliver Norm's ducks and the 30 heritage breed turkeys. He got a flat and couldn't meet us up on Friday, so we drove around Amish country staring at the scenery. I agreed to trek back up there Saturday before work (I had a training meeting at 8:30am) and I was hoping that Jason would go with me, which he did, however sleepy eyed he might have been.
The birds are beautiful already and they look like very smart, quiet birds. While I was at work that day, Jason did some research on heritage breed turkeys and found that they are under this international blanket preservation group called slow foods. Nearly 90% of all the birds sold in America are Broad Breasted, which is a hybrid turkey that cannot fly or mate naturally and has terrible health problems associated with rapid growth. Most storebought turkeys are constantly fed antibiotics as a preventative measure to try to keep as many turkeys alive in as small of space they can, thereby maximizing products. The downfall to the factory farmed turkey is that their extra white meat and large breasts have little if any taste, and that's not even mentioning the quality of life for the bird. The good thing about heritage breeds is that they are naturally pretty disease resistant to the North American climate and are very agile and hearty birds. The bad thing about heritage breeds is that they are slow growers and it is hard to turn a dime or even cover your losses unless people are willing to forego the 59cent per pound freezer turkeys for the 4.50 per pound price of a heritage breed.
The crazy thing about all of this is that turkeys raised on pastures or "grass fed" turkeys go for a lot higher. Jason printed out something from a website that a grass fed heritage breed turkey similar to the one that we raised and ate last year (our dearly departed Doug) would have sold at a price of $143.87. Dang.

So after all of this research and learning about the Narragannsett turkeys that I bought (they are gorgeous full grown) Jason was really excited as well.

Now the funny trick to all this is that I never told my parents about this endeavor. Dad says no more birds and mom said that Doug broke her heart. I say I found a place that will kill them for $5 per bird so I don't have to and we've got the room and I've got the time and we all have certainly got the market. So Jason printed out some price sheets from what other people were selling their turkeys for, some were just broad breasted grass fed turkeys going for about a hundred dollars and some printouts were just talking about the slow foods movement. He highlighted the prices and put the $143.87 one on the top and while I was up at my parents house, I just happened to leave it on a counter in the breakfast room. We had the turkeys in grandma's basement for a few days and no one knew it. Jason kept saying that no one has ever been that close to 30 turkeys and not known it before. But then during Sunday night dinner with grandpa, dad brought up my meat birds that are grazing out in the field and how much more he would pay for those birds and that's when I happened to bring up how much our dear old Doug would have cost us. My whole family started chattering, my mom kept saying that Doug was delicious, the best turkey she's ever eaten and I put the articles on the table. My dad started leafing through them and musing about one thing or another, not really picking up on the fact that I already had 30 of them peeping in grandma's basement and even stoic grandpa seemed impressed by the birds while repulsed at what dumb people will spend their money on these days.... but of course, that's coming from a "millionaire" who eats meat out of a can.
A few days later, dad said that he has a mind to let a bunch of turkeys run around grandpa's place out in the country and mom was cackling with her friends about how delicious Doug was some more. Jason just gave me a high five and grinned at our cleaverness.

In any case, I've got thirty turkeys in my grandma's basement and I just made them an outdoor enclosure, so they are getting out and seeing the sun today.


Ok, time to get to my feeding rounds. In other news, everything else is going quite well.

50 cents plus my name

my feet are tingling. it's raining here again. the weather has been indecisive as of late and you can almost feel the pulling of the two seasons as they fight for the days remaining between them. the peacock is in the tree outside calling for the peahen who presumably is sitting on a clutch of eggs or has been taken by a predator. every car that drives by is answered by his meow-like call. i have a cut on my pinky finger that i'm not sure where it came from. i didn't go to the movies tonight like i had planned. instead, i put some corn gluten on the back garden where the wheat has sprouted, planted some oats and sunflower seeds by the creek, put some newspapers and grass clippings around the garlic, secured the meat birds pen a little more for the rainstorms to come, and sent away for about 50 sweet potatoes.

right now, i'm trying to track down the possible thief that took my money online for some rare breed chickens that i never received and actually looking into where corn gluten comes from. i'm not sure what i'm doing with the night. i have tomorrow off and am going to amish country to pick up 30 turkeys, the enterprise that i've been thinking about for quite awhile.

i don't know if it's the wet feet or the lack of plans for the night or the annoying cut on my pinky but i'm in this strange calm tonight almost to the point of numbness. my day went amazingly so far. i played in dirt, trimmed bushes, repotted plants, pet cats, watched chickens, and it rained and shined. my feet were wet most of the day, which could have thrown me off a bit, who knows. but my new job gave me two things that Triad never gave me. the first thing was a name tag. it's nice. it's got my name on it and lake cable nursery. i came in and it was jus sitting there by my time card. i like my boss. she's pretty chill. i got a bunch of free shirts AND a name tag. sweet. but then again... now everyone can pronounce my name wrong. ugh.
second thing that my job gave me today, drumroll please. are you ready for this? seriously, Triad would have never allowed this to happen, but i was sorting out wintered over perinneals when my boss informed me that i was getting a 50 cent raise! wohoo! i don't know where it came from or why, but it's awesome. i'm pretty happy. and it's not the money, i don't think because i'm still making a lot less than i was before. but it's just that she chatted with me and said that i was moving along and learning fast and she wanted to put me inside with more customers and in charge of more displays and whatnot, which is cool. i don't hate anyone that i work with and the customers for the most part are really fun... or at least funny to watch.

i guess i find is entertaining to watch people experience plants. some little old biddies that come in just coo and cackle like hens at the new bougenvilia or the hibiscus that are in bloom. they are only looking for the colors that they have loved for years and are always asking if we are going to have the same thing that they planted last year, that pretty flower... you know, the one that goes up with a little bit of pink and some broad leaves... oh you know, it looks like a daisy but then it doesn't.....
young couples come in looking for trees. recently, it has been this weird pink cherry tree that got published in one magazine and every couple in the area has got to have it. they all come in and say the name with hesitation, like i'm going to correct them, but instead i just apologize for us not carrying that variety, but show them the weeping cherries none-the-less to which they usually scrunch up their noses, look around the corner like i'm hiding something that looks better and then scoot out the back door when i'm not looking in order to continue their search for the cherry tree they saw in that one magazine.

i don't know a lot about shrubs, and lucky me, it seems like everyone that comes up to me asks a rather difficult question about a particular type of shrub to which i of course have to ask them if it is deciduous or evergreen. then i walk over to the correct mat and try to scramble to read the tags while bullshitting up questions to ask them about their hours of sunlight or how big they want the shrub to be. if i'm lucky, they ask about a rose because those all have pictures. just for once, i want someone to ask me what type of climbing vine they should get for their trellis or how to stake tomatoes. but meh, oh well. the more they ask, the more i learn.

in any case, i am learning quite a bit about pruning shrubs. i imagine when i'm pruning shrubs that i'm on a gardening show sometimes.

here's the script:

another very important aspect with the -out with the old, in with the new- spring cleanings, it is also important to remember your shrubs. it is best to prune in the spring or in the fall. by getting rid of the excess or some of the dead branches, your shrub will be much happier.

if you are timid about trimming, a surefire way to know that you are only taking what needs to go is to bend the branches. if they are brittle and snap, then they are dead and can be snipped off. if they are pliable, you can leave them.
if part of your shrub looks like it took a beating over the winter, just trim it out. this will encourage new growth and while it might look a bit lop-sided for a bit, don't worry. more sunlight and more energy will go to the remaining branches.

if you are overly brazen, take heed. some plants don't take too kindly to being hacked back in the spring. i have had housewives ask me why their hydrengeas are not blooming. i inquire i they pruned in the spring, which could be the cause and one woman's face turned beet red with anger as she screamed that her husband had after she told him not to and she was going to kill him for that! please, i cannot be held liable for a male with an itchy clipper finger. if you are scared for your hydrengeas, point him in the direction of some evergreens. men seem to like them and they are pretty forgiving as far as pruning goes.




le sigh. i guess that goes through my head while pruning, but then again, i do cooking shows in my head sometimes while cooking or surgical shows while examining a hen so i guess there's nothing odd about that.

anyway, it's a nice night, i'm trying to rehydrate myself and i like the achy feeling in my body right now. i'm two seconds away from folding up like a card table, i just have this feeling like there was something else that i had been dying to write about all day, but now my mind is terribly blank.

so anyway, here's my to do list:
-make shelter for turkeys
-get rid of mamma and baby raccoons
-email shrimp guy our shrimp order
-finish newspapering around the garlic
-try out my new router
-work on making my back deck a beautiful outdoor room with planters, refinished chairs, and possibly a potters wheel.
-give neighbors eggs
-ask neighbors about mooching off their internet so i don't have to pay for my own.
-order half dozen sized egg cartons so i don't have to give full dozens as free gifts and to expand the market to singles and other non-families who can't eat a dozen eggs.
-get grapevine out of the creek and make a few more wreathes
-water and plant more tomato plants in the basement


which leads me to my adios for the night. i can at least scratch off half of the last one withing the next five minutes. i can't believe how much i did get done today. i feel so accomplished. oh, i would also like to put a bird feeder by my window.

...not like i don't have enough birds already. sheesh.

worries away

so i'm sitting here with a phantom's voice reverberating into the back of my head, smelling faintly of campfires and fresh sawdust. i'm kinda a bit shaken tonight. the kind that leaves you sitting with the details still to be sketched out, but the base of it is there. i have a sunburn on the back of my neck that is tingling and making my skin feel tight. my throat is dry and i'm kinda hungry from my stomach, but my head is repulsed by the sound of food. over hot dogs, jason's blood sugar went crazy, something that has never happened. it seemed like a seizure or that he was laughing at something and so my brother and i started laughing with him, until he fell on the ground. he kept trying to eat but he couldn't, like his limbs all were controlled by a different switch that couldn't turn on. the shaking was terrifying and all i could think of was steel magnolias or at least the first 10 minutes of it when they get her juice.

it's a strange tingling all through your body, the feeling like nothing that you are doing is helping and i felt mostly like calling the hospital to make sure i was doing everything right. i don't know. i got ice cream. strawberry. preston got juice. apple

corn gluten

So, live is moving on at the pace of a river, just sliding along at some times and falling over rocks some other times.

First, my new job is amazing. I cannot exclaim enough how great it is to be outside all the time and not feel like an outsider. The people that I work with are amazing and the customers talk to me like I'm an instant expert... but I'm still learning so much. I don't know anything about flowering shrubs or ornamental trees and my knowledge of plants that I have not personally grown is limited. Lucky for me, I've grown quite a few plants in my day, so I can at least provide a bit of insight into certain questions.
Another great thing about my job is that I am learning to many new things that will be helpful to me around the park. Like corn gluten, an organic herbicide made from the by-product of chicken food. It does not allow any weed seeds to germinate but it doesn't harm plants with roots. I'm excited about having a garden that will be better than last year.


In any case, the internet is limited here and I'm typing over top of a couple of teenage boys yelling at a play station... hence there is not collecting of thoughts here. I will say that I got a new goat, Oliver and he is amazing. He follows me around like a puppy dog and cries when I leave. My family didn't get too mad at me and they all love him now. He went to church when dad did a children's sermon and charmed the entire congregation. It was funny to watch him interact with the 27 kids that were all petting him at once.

I am making lists of things in my brain that I have to do. The lists are pretty long and I feel half pressured and half excited about all of it. It's kinda like procratinating towards a deadline. Time passes and the season is almost time for planting. I'm on this strange clock now. It's weird that my calender is filled with --- hen went broody --- put quail eggs in the incubator --- last frost expected --- plant bulbs --- get turkeys --- ect. It's like everything has an end time in mind. It's another 6 weeks until the meat birds are ready for slaughter. If I get turkeys, I need to get them 6 months before they are eating size, which means I have to build a pen before the end of may or else I won't have them this year. The quail eggs are in the incubator, which means if I have a successful hatch, then I'll have to push to get a pen for them. The little chickies are almost ready to be put in with the big chickens, but I need to build another house. And over all of this, there is the blanket of the shrimp being put in the pool, no later than july but not before the church camp comes and swims. And then when will the harvest be. And how will I prepare for all of this. And what about............... hehe.

So, this is my brain on organic fertilizers. I'm excited and happy and somewhat content. I had another show with northern spy that went well. I wrote a new song that it awesome and I'm pretty tight with Joe the drummer. Norm kinda was off the whole show and Beth turned down so much that no one could hear her and after the show everyone said that she either looked bored or scared. It was a weird joint to play at, no booze, high lights, and the audience could talk to us between songs, which was kinda nice because I got to work on my stage banter. It was pretty weird at times when Norm would quit playing and Beth would kinda shudder in wonder of what she should be doing, but Joe and I were somehow still on the same page. I used to want a drum machine. Now I know that would not work at all.
I'm kinda frustrated still as we are at a standstill with shows. We have a good recording, but I suck at the mail and no one else is helping me out here. I guess it's just going to end up being one of those things that I suck it up and do it myself one of these nights. Norm just whines that he doesn't have the stuff or know what to do or blah blah blah and I'm kinda just done with all that. So I guess, like my boss says when he gets frustrated; if you want something done right... you've got to do it yourself.


Other than that, I've been ok. Jason has been a bit weird lately. I don't know. When I feel smothered, I kinda shut down and I think that makes him kinda upset, so he wants to hang out with me more and find out what's wrong, which is not what I need... and then we just get into a bigger hole. I'm just kinda adjusting to the new job. It's a lot of sleep and a lot of labor and I'm happy and sometimes I just want to decompress after it all. I don't know. We just chatted about it again and hopefully everything will work out. We'll see.

pools of blood colagulating

So I guess right now I'm at a loss for words, well apparently not completely, but more of at a loss for verbal words. Flabbergasted, I believe would be the correct term for it as opposed to filibuster, which is where you can't shut up.

I was having a friendly morning-time conversation with my mom, I was checking my email and she was talking at me when she brought up going to visit her parents. My two brothers have agreed, the older of the two because he was never molested by my grandfather, and the other one agreed because he's on a crusade to get money for college and he thinks that he can squeeze pennies from them by a friendly visit. But the thing that puzzles me is that my sister in Florida is flying up from Florida to North Carolina just to spend Easter weekend with my terrible grandparents.

Reasons I don't want to go:
1) My family is staying in a hotel right next to my grandparents, which is not a cool, fun, hip location at all for a 20-something. In fact, there's little if anything to do except for hang out with my terrible grandparents.
2) My favorite uncle isn't even going to make it out for a visit because he works all weekend.
3) My not-so-favorite uncle will be there all weekend. He teases and it's not funny at all. He talks like my grandfather.
4) I have band practice on Thursday night. They are leaving on Thursday night.
5) I have to work on Saturday, even though it's going to be like 32 degrees.


So my mom just came in and told me that I should go just to show that he has no control over me. Wait. How does that work? Me giving up a weekend that I could be doing what I want in order to sit in a car for 8 hours there and 8 hours back just to watch my grandmother not be able to pick up a paintbrush and have my grandfather follow me around trying to apologize for... wait, he swears nothing but if I think it's something then he's sorry for whatever it was that might have happened.

You see, memory is a tricky thing. In an interrogation room, you put all the pressure on the witness / assailant to remember, but it all comes down to how you phrase the questions. You can implant ideas into their heads of things that we or weren't there. You can twist the story so much that even they don't know which way is up. Then the crime is twisted in a different light and you can believe something totally different.

I don't want to go. But here I am thinking well maybe....



My mom says that my grandmother would just die and go to heaven if she saw all of her grandchildren together for such a great holiday such as Easter. She's been saying that for years. But maybe she should have thought about that before she let her husband ruin her chances of that while she covered it up.



But then again, here I sit, waffling between thinking -well maybe they won't need me on Saturday - I could reschedule band practice - fuck that, I don't want them to take anymore from me than they already have.

I don't know. I'm kinda confused. And it sucks that my mom wouldn't just be like -hey, it's cool if you don't want to go. I understand.
But I don't think so. Blood is thicker than water... which I guess goes for dirty blood. But then, will I regret if I don't go and my grandmother dies?
Probably not. She's been saying that for years and I feel as though I made my peace last time. I don't need to waste another weekend feeling uncomfortable.


Off to work....

so here's to a new day

It's the first of april. It's a new month. Normally that would mean paying rent, but this month, it's me waiting for my first paycheck from my new job. It's beautiful outside. Everything is starting to turn green.
Cheers to new things... new months, new jobs, and of course, new birds
So, where do I begin. As my lack of internet connection for 8 hours a day, holed up behind a desk is now no longer in my daily activities, updating my blog is also quite a bit more difficult... but then again, I'm not complaining a bit.

So, last Wed. was the first day of my new job. I went in pretty early and met everyone that works there, which is a total of about 5 people. I guess I went to high school with one of the girls and the token boy who works there recognized me from my picture in the paper from the shrimp fest article. I listened to the organic rep talk, which was interesting hearing about microbes used as fertilizer and amino acids and all that, a bit like science class while still trying to sell me things but whatever. Then after the rep left, I got to re-pot ferns, three different kinds. I was elbow deep in potting soil, sitting there in the warmth of the greenhouse when this little grey cat came up to me, meowed and then proceeded to climb onto my shoulders, resting it's head by my one ear while it's back end hung off my other shoulder. So I tried potting ferns with one hand in the dirt and the other hand petting this cat that just laid on me and purred. It was beautiful.
Then after repotting ferns, I weeded a bit out by the parking lot and talked to people about pansies. It was nice, I sold a flat of pink pansies to a woman and her two little girls. It was nice having the sun on my back and the wind in my hair and all that. I felt very industrious.

In any case, I've been doing really nice things around the greenhouse and my manager is really nice and the owner really liked my sweater with the mittens on it. The very old father of the owner schooled me in proper shovel use and every single muscle in my body is so terribly sore after every day. Yesterday was spent moving all the shade shrubs out of the cold frames and watering them. I did get to talk to a customer about tomato plants and it's funny conversing with other people who are inevitably trying to start planting a little too early for Ohio. I'd guess that there will be at least 10 more frosts before this winter is over, but I just hope it doesn't kill off the peaches.

So my brain is in overdrive right now, but unlike my old job, it's good daydreaming without the access to buy things, which means usually in one day I'm excited about buying something or starting a new project (soapmaking is hot on my brain) but then by the end of the day, I've talked myself out of it or moved on to another idea.

One thing that has been bothering me is my lack of food. I guess my last paycheck from Triad did not last nearly as long as I thought it would and I'm flat broke. I mean, I went to the Chiropractor, thank god I did (no more sinus pressure or allergies! wohoo!) but after I wrote that check, I checked my balance and you know that feeling that you are going to bounce a check and there is absoloutly nothing you can do about it. Yeah, that was it. So I guess my alignment was quite a bit more pricy than I expected. I think it was the week off in between the two jobs and Jason's birthday and some residual owing of things that I bought from behind the desk that kicked me in the ass in the end, but I did get kicked.
I guess part of it was that the hatchery finally billed me for my new babies. I ordered thirty or so laying hens and 10 meat birds. I opened the box to thirty or so laying hens and no meat birds. I called them and they sent me the meat birds the next day... but they sent 8 males for warmth as well, thereby making my male to femal ratio back in the red zone. Not fun. But I don't have the heart to kill them so I'm just kinda stuck right now. I'll wait until the first one attacks me or until they constantly crow to pick which ones are the first to go.

In any case, I've turned grouchy the past week. I think it's a combination of being terribly tired and sore and broke with no food at my house. The no food at my house forces me up to my parents house which allows them to barrage me with snide comments about my life choices. I'm kinda pissy a lot because my metabolism is going crazy with the extra calories that I'm burning and I eat like crazy now, but have no money. I try to pack a lunch, but after I eat it, I'm hungry again. I sleep like crazy now too. My hands are getting all cut up, which I don't mind.

in any case, I'm happy now that the callouses are growing on my hands instead of around my heart.

slippers and slippery slopes

Today is my first day not at my job. It's been a full year there and today is the first monday that I woke up and didn't have to go it.
I remember the time that we had a show in Bowling Green and I woke up Bethani and Norm at 5 in the morning so that we could start driving home so that I could be at work on time.
I remember the time that I had strep throat, not sure what was going on with me but still going to work because I was too bullheaded and broke to go to the Doctor. I remember that bug really threw me through a loop. I was in my back cubicle, in my little happy place with my orchid smiling at me, sipping tea from my favorite duck mug, trying to swallow and my boss came back to ask me to move to the front desk. It sounded like a promotion that I didn't want. He said I was going to move up to processing assistant and that I had to be in the front to do this. I told him that I would move up to processing assistant, but I didn't want to move up to the front. He couldn't understand why. I couldn't swallow enought to clear my throat and explain. I just muttered that I'm not good with people, I like my privacy back here... which he took me mean that I was goofing off in the back. Maybe I was, but I was doing well none-the-less. I was happy and comfortable and I only went up front when they needed me. So I said no to the front, and yes to the training. The next day, I woke up sweating, no sleep, just that aching feeling. I went to work. I slipped into the back and started working. Then they called me into the main office and asked me again. I was sweating and the room was spinning. I couldn't hear over the muffled snot building in my brain and restricting my ears. and I agreed. That's all that I could do was nod. And I moved the girl out without even asking her. I felt so terrible touching all of her stuff, diabetic needles and bills and all. They asked me to so I did it. I moved up there and had never felt more awkward. Brenda, my female boss was incredibly judemental and had a way about her that was accusatory even in the most simple of statements. I couldn't hear a thing and my lists and organizational tactics fell through in this muddled pile of people walking through as thought hey were treading straight on my brain. The next day with temperature rising was the Schumacher meeting. I couldn't miss it. I don't think I've ever hated myself more than when they were showing us all a powerpoint presentation on how to push small businesses out of work and take over, building more Schumacher homes than ever.
I couldn't even eat lunch. I couldn't even swallow. I couldn't hear a thing and I thought that I was just being dramatic. Then Paul Schumacher (or Schmuck-er as I called him) got up there and told us that the company is going to raise one billion dollars by 2010. Some people acted excited. Others just kinda looked at that giant number as compared with the small sales that we were pullind down and whinced. The best part of the day was when I put a sweaty piece of paper made for comments in my clammy hand and scrawled out the statistical impossibility of maintaining quality control with the gross amount of houses that the company would have to pump out in order to make a billion dollars. It's unfathomable.

In any case, after the meeting, the directions to push out family businesses, the greedy Presidents pushing his employees for more more more, the sales encouragements, the tempting cancun trip for the highest seller... I went home and cried. I curled up on the couch in a feverish, hormonal ball and cried and cried and cried until my mom came in and said that it's not that bad,.... and I cried some more. It was after a couple of hours that she dragged me to the ER kicking and screaming to the tune of a temperature of 103. Strep throat. Stuck at the front desk. and signed up for a crusade of a job that I didn't believe in.



I guess right now, I'm going over the whole thing. The slippery slope that brought me to the point of not wanting to wake up in the morning. I guess I could blame it all on outside sources, but rather, it was more of a mindset that I adopted along with it that carried me down the rapids.

It's funny sometimes how things just get under your skin and you don't notice until the wound festers, then you just medicate the fester without removing the splinter.




Here I am processing the past when I should be planning for the future, but in all honesty, I'm terrified. I'm in this limbo like I'm waiting for something. I've always known that I don't have the guts to just up and move to a random place without a dime in my pocket. But now I feel as though I am more in a corner than just being broke and scared of change. I don't remember when I started hating myself. And I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go from here.

What's going through my brain right now is this sense of urgency. This feeling that time is slipping away from me and I'm waiting at a station for a train that never comes. I just want to be alone and I'm not sure if it's just quitting my job or starting a new one or that it's sleeting outside. Jason just walked in, excited about the day. I just wanted him to leave. I didn't know what to say to make him leave, but I feel as though I need to process what I'm feeling alone. I don't know what to tell him that I haven't already before. And I'm glad that my mom isn't here. My dad walked in before Jason did and asked if we were going to finish the house this week while I'm off. I really need to get internet at my house. I muttered something. I feel like all I want to do is get away from everyone. Last week was completely consumed with doing band stuff, just going to shows and passing out demos and doing a recording in a real recording studio, which was all awesome, but I just wanted one night to myself and I'm pulled in a million different directions sometimes that I don't feel like I ever can just sit and process all the things because they are happening too fast.


Wait, that doesn't make sense. How can I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting for a train, but I don't want to do the thing that are right in front of me because ther'es too much going on. I think that I'm just slightly annoyed right now as all that Norm could say about the band is all this shit that we have to do and how much he wants shows and how we need to blah blah blah. I just bit my tongue until he stopped babbling and then specified that I'm doing what I can and spelled out what I'm good at, which is talking to booking guys and chatting it up and talking to bands and trying to get shows that way... then I told him that I'm not good at sending out demos or anything with the mail as it is hard enough for me even to get my shit together enough to pay my bills... and those already come with addresses and envelopes! It just made me upset that the one show that we have and the 4 clubs that have our demo are because of me and he's pushing me and bitching about not having more! Come on, what more does he want me to do! and the four or five shows that we have already had were all from me talking to my old friends and getting gigs through them. I guess the more that I thought about it, the more mad that it made me how he just kept whining about nothing happening when he's not doing anything to make anything happen. I can't milk my friends for all that they are worth and I don't want pity shows. It's really annoying to keep pestering my friends or only calling people when I want something. If they like the band, they'll book it. if not, nothing I can do will stop that. He did a half assed recording and didn't pay any attention to the glaring details and he expected me to hand that to clubs like I was proud of it? And recently it was Joe who came through with a friend with a recording studio that did our new recording for free, which sounds phenomenal. Ugh, I just hope that he doens't keep going on about what we're not doing when he's not doing anything. He didn't even pay for gas when we went to Toledo and he knows I'm broke! He bought me a coffee when I was driving home in a snowstorm and a beer at the club so that I'd go up and talk to the booking girl. Thaaaaaaanks....

Ok, so that's what's going on with the band.

Now my parents are doing what they do best, I guess. I'm keeping my distance a lot more than before. My mom is helping with Jason's quilt a bit, which is nice. She's good at sewing and sometimes I work backwards on sewing and it's nice to have help. My dad on the other hand had been pushing me all last week to pitch this idea to my bosses that I would be an independent contractor for licensing when they needed me. He wanted me to tell them if they needed me after I was gone, that they could call me at any time and I would just come in and fill out the paperwork for state licenses and they would pay me per license. Sounds like a good idea, but my bosses are kinda not built like that. But anyway, dad kept making me explain this contractor idea to everyone. I'd be standing there and he'd make me tell mom about it, which i didn't. Then when Jason and I were over, he told Jason that I had this great idea and that I should tell him about it... I just stood there with my back turned saying nothing while my dad talked about my silence like it was me bucking the business world or something. Just a few minutes ago he came in and asked me how I was financially doing. What the hell. I'm in between jobs, literally. Am I supposed to be really well off right now or something??? Well, I'm not. Jason just paid off two of my credit cards, which was nice and one less thing to worry about. But I'm on limited funds and the band promo thing is making things even tighter along with all these projects that Jason and I have planned for my week off and his spring break.



Anyway, I'm kinda having a bit of trouble thinking about the future. I don't think that I've ever had a sense of urgency about anything until this birthday. I'm 25... or at least I will be. It seems like I should know what I want to do with my life by now. Right now, what I have is a half finished house, a very sweet boyfriend, 30 chickens... with 50 more baby chicks in the mail this week, a BA is b-s that I don't use, the loans to prove it, a severe leaking eye problem, and no long term career goals to speak of, and a band that I am severely questioning at least one of the members of as far as fortitude and passive-aggressive nature.


I think I'm just going to take this week to calm down. I don't want to think that I wasted a year. I don't want to think that I have no direction. I want to see the good that might come. I guess we'll see how the next few weeks go.

quail eggs and quitting

So, quite a bit has happened since my last post. I guess just sitting at work and blogging about how much I hate work got me thinking about working through my difficulties with... um, work.


After only a month in therapy and reassessing my goals in life, I am right now sitting at work, enduring my final 2 weeks notice. I'm in my last days here at the mortgage company and I honestly don't know what's coming. I do know that I'm getting talkative again, laughing more and there's an excitement in the air that ranges a bit beyond the scent of spring with the melting snow.

On the same day that I turned in my 2 weeks notice at the desk job, I was interviewed for a greenhouse position. I guess I just wrote down all the jobs that I would be good at and enjoy and the greenhouse was pretty high. It's creative and outside and most importantly, it's not really focused in the "business" world. I think I have a lot of trouble wrapping my head around the idea that the head of a company can send their kids to private schools and disneyland 7 times a year and buy them new cars before they even have licenses... but the bottom of the totem pole people just sit behind their desks, staring at a picture of their kids thinking about just putting in their time to get home to help with their kids homework - the highlight of their day.

I don't think that you should do something that you don't like to do. And it's pretty easy to slip into it. I guess it's a comfortable spot to be in with the security of having a job and whenever I would wake up and not want to go in, I'd say to myself well... at least you have a job.


But le sigh... my brain is always in overtime. I would just sit here and spend the money as fast as I could make it to try to make myself cheer up or to try to challenge myself. I kept reading about these things (wikipedia is both my best friend and worst enemy at times) and then I'd want to do them, but wouldn't have time, but would have some cash in my account, and with internet access, ebay was always so close. After awhile, my house became cluttered with unfinished projects with the best of intentions and I swear 8 hours out of your day will make you so tired by the time you get home... it's unbearable. So I'd wait for the weekends, but when the weekends would roll around, the backlog was soo thick that I couldn't prioritize.... and the vicious cycle continues.

I like the people that I work with a lot. They are nice. I just don't care too much for the job.

I also got stuck when thinking of things that I want to do. It seems as though I detest the business world with terrible loathing, but oddly enough, I also hate the creative world. Maybe because the creative world always puts that little focus on the dollars that it can make from being pretty instead of focusing on doing things for the sake of doing things. I was torn with interior design for so long because it seems to me as though art is wasted on the rich. It's not accessible. It's stale and hanging in some mansion in the west wing that's only used on the fifth saturday in may for a women's tea. If I would design a house, it wouldn't be a real house. It would be one that someone would be bored with the silk couch and want something different. No one is really going to see it. No one is really going to care.
So what about fashion design. That's fun... but I can imagine hating it and the ever changing "what's new for fall" attitude.
Even just walking around the art building sometimes made me a bit nauseous in the way that people fed into such bullshit while condemning others for the expressions.

So design is out and selling is out and brokering is out. I like playing in the dirt, but even farmers now-a-days have 9-5 jobs to support the losing industry that is their plot of land. So I guess I like hobby farming, but I'm not sure where exactly I can go with it.


Now that I've ruled out what I'd be good at, but wouldn't enjoy, I whittled down the rest into something that I can actually base my life along with my living wage. I think working in a greenhouse is a good first step. I guess I would be pretty happy working at a food co-op or at a horse barn, but I'll take what I can get. And the best part about the interview is their focus on organic gardening. I walked out of there only feeling mildly like a hippie, but we discussed PBS and DDT and orchids and I might have mentioned my chickens because it's kinda hard to go a half hour without talking about them.


But anyway, I think it's a step in the right direction. The next step is building more pens for all the new additions to the High Mill farm that are coming into fruition. I got a new kid that should be coming right around my birthday, even though my parents swear they don't want one. he's so cute, you just can't say no.


So that's what's happening. Oh, and I've found a new-found obsession with quail eggs. They are just beautiful

apathy and exhaustion were not always my best friends.

Clinched jaw, I kinda hide. I'm just going to sit this one out, wait for this feeling to pass, grab a beer, glance out the window. It's snowing. It looks cold.

And now I'm starting to feel like a whiner. Like all I do is just sit here and say poor me - poor me, all the while pining for the times that I would sit on the back porch, glancing up at the stars as the crickets twittered at me, peeling the dried mud from between my toes.

And the past few days have been lists and lists. Lists of things I love and lists of thing I hate and lists of places that I love and miss and lists of places that I would never live in, lists of worst jobs to have, lists of the happiest times in my life. And I kinda feel like I've aged 20 years in the time it took me from being 24 to my 25th birthday, which is fast approaching.
I feel like the irritable man in the sitcoms, coming home from a long day at the office just to snap at the kids he hardly knows on his way to the easy chair. No time to look at his wife, just snarfing down the food on his plate, looking through everyone he meets and flying off the handle at every little thing that goes wrong.
I'm impossible without a beer after work. I hate that feeling. I'm up to 2 cigarettes a day, which is putting a permanent brick in the back of my throat and I'm sure wrecking my voice, but at the same time, it's all I can do to limit it to two some days.

This is the part of the sitcom where the flashback happens to happy little me taking the test in 6th grade when a career specialist came in to class to bestow upon us each a future, bright and wide as our eyes and only wavered when the boys in the back row would scoff at the mention of any boy.... OR girl... could become president.
It didn't take me long, I know what I like and what I don't like and even from a young age, I would keep the mice in glass jars as part science and part odd fascination. I picked weeds with my grandma and ran around in the sun, and the rational part of me always hated art, swearing that it was a really fun way to pass time, but nothing more.

I don't know how I feel about making money. I think I'm going to make a giant equation of energy and time and money... for starters, there is only a certain amount of energy that one person could have, save for time spent sleeping and factor in whether this being is eating good foods, consuming legal stimulants or depressents, and the small environmental factors of decreased vitamin D intake during the winter. We'll call this factor M.
There are a few things that you can go to decrease or increase factor M, but for the most part M is stable with a calculatable entrophy as every year goes by. For the sake of continuity, let's just say that M = 100
I would say that being winter with the frigid 3 degrees currently with very little sun and nothing but blustery cold snow building up on top of ice, that would decrease my M by 8 points.

100M - 8 = 92m

but it's not just winter here. I'm not sleeping right because it's cold, so that's another 2 points off. Stress of living next door to my parents is about 4 points off.

92m - 6 = 86m

My fucking goddamn job though probably sucks 68 M points out of me. Fucking full time, stealing the best hours of my day, taking all the daylight time for a stupid paycheck and a dirty rotten feeling about my life with little if anything in return....

86m - 68 = I'm a shell of a human being.




So the point of this excercise is to point out in some sort of science that I don't like where I'm at. I'm sure that I can have another shitty equation to say that doing what I want = no money but that's for another day.

In any case, I'm coming to the conclusion that I just sit at my desk and buy things. i'm no better off making 10 dollars an hour working full time as I was at Bittersweet farms making 7.25 working only part time. The way I see it, if you are doing something that you love, then you don't rely so much on buying shit to make you happy outside of work. At bittersweet, I didn't come home and crack a beer to make my eye stop twitching. I pretty much just danced around and called people up to make some music and had weird movie night.... but then again, maybe it's not all just my job, maybe some of it is the area. I do have a lot of faith in canton/akron. I guess one shitty city in Ohio is as good as any other. I'm just have a bit of a tough time right now.

I don't know, maybe I went through bouts of depression before, but never really realized it until I had stable people around me. Maybe my mom staring at me during breakfast every morning, asking me if everything ok and my dad just chiming in "make the best of it" before I go to work has a little bit to do with this whole confusion. Maybe it's Jason saying "just quit" combined with this nagging feeling in the back of my brain that I couldn't get a job doing what I like to do that's causing this internal struggle.

All that I know right now is I'm 24, turning 25 and I feel like I've pissed away a damn good year with nothing to show for it.

mission one......

So I think that I'm verifyably having a midlife crisis.

I don't know what I'm doing. I kinda feel like a robot, like I'm stuck in this body that keeps moving, eyes blinking... but it's not actually me.

I don't want to get out of bed most mornings. I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that my brain stays in bed and my body goes around and does stuff. I can't even tell you the last time I read a book or wrote something that I cared about or really laughed.

And then I think it's guilt for feeling the way that I feel that keeps me going in my relationship with my family and with Jason. I'm irritable a lot and I'm not sure what I'm doing. Damn, I didn't think when I moved here that this is how bad I would feel. If I knew, the worst moments at Toledo weren't even near this. I guess it is better to be broke and happy.


So this is it. I guess I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that I'm going to be a poor traveling musician. Me and Ryan are getting our stuff together and hitting the road, with an open French Horn case in front of us, we'll beg for change with beautiful melodies as couples pass by on date night, tossing a couple quarters our way just for the effort of making the space around us more beautiful.

I guess my first step (according to my wonderful new therapist) is to write out where I see myself in a year. All that I have to say is I'd better not still be here.

give me freedom or give me death... or both.

My week has been a bit tough. I guess with the lack of in foliage to hide in, my chickens have become target practice for the hawks and easy pickings to say the least. I lost my favorite white silkie named spike one day, then evil lester the blue cochin the next. This morning, I woke up to a hawk about the size of a serama chewing on maurice, my little black silkie. The hawk just kinda looked back at me like --what the fuck are you looking at, i'm eating breakfast here-- as he peeled away the skin on the neck of my former friend. So I was pissed off and all the ducks were watching from their little house as I ran to get the gun, not sure what I was going to do with it but still pissed off that this stupid bird was eating the head off the little chicken that I hand raised from a day old peep.
By the time I got back, the hawk was perched up in the tree, swinging it's tail around like a taunting kid on the playground, and I was damn pissed. Not like I did anything, but I guess I impressed him just by standing in my pj's, freezing with a cold clip in one hand and the rifle in the other, wondering how the two go together and how bad the kick it going to be.
In the end, I just stood there, staring at him, melting the snow around my boots as I watched him twitch his tail and move from one tree to a farther tree to a farther tree until he was a speck. I'm sure he'll be back. The ground was frozen and I couldn't bury poor maurice. I let the ducks out, despite my best judgment. The chickens, however, are staying in today.

Le sigh... such is life in the wild, wild open. It constantly comes down to the dichotomy of safety with no freedom, or freedom without safety. If I keep them in the pen all the time, they are fine, but then they never get to run around in fresh grass. But then again, running around in fresh grass could have them turn up dead.
I guess I subject them to what I would rather have; a life with the wind blowing through my hair, er feathers in their case, throwing caution to the wind and possibly becoming someone's lunch.
But I guess we all feed ourselves to the wolves sometimes....

One, two, three... juuum.... er three jump.. no. wait. one twoooooooo....


yeah, i can't do it.


So recently I am coming to terms with those terrible little demons in my life. Not like the real spiritual struggle that my dad talks about (the end is coming, you know) but rather the things about me that I try to hide by sweeping them under the couch, rug, dog, or whatever I can find to hide under. Everything is fine. Yeah, everrrything is fine. Fine. Fine.
You know the easiest way to tell if someone is lying about how they are is if they repeat the word over and over.... example: How are you today? response: "good... good." That means that things are not going too well.

So it's been awhile of "fine... just fine" days as of late and so last night after fruitlessly trying to re-learn the french horn, I sat my ass down and tried to figure out why I hate myself and have such a tough time even getting out of bed every morning. I just made a simple list of pros and cons because it is easy to feel muddled and confused if everything is lumped together. Classification is science and all that jazz. So I classified my life. I searched deep down to try to find out what the root of my discontent is. It ended up turning into this huge chart, kinda like when you're writing a play and looking for character development. Anyway, this chart linked all my pros and cons together, which would be a balanced give and take relationship. An example being the vet bill for my dog last week was astronomical, but I love my dog terribly and she's a joy to be with, so I don't mind.
After awhile, I started to find a common thread in my cons... and it wasn't my parents (shockingly).

I don't know. I think what I have here is a good start. I kinda like the area, not my favorite but it's got potential. That and I've never been to any city that I walked through and could completely call home. One of the first pros was my chickens, and I know that might sound weird that poultry would be higher on my list than say... my mom, but it is. So I admitted to myself that I like chickens. A lot. And my ducks. The whole rent fiasco with my house is kinda annoying and proximity to my parents is a bit disturbing, however it's not really the main worry in my life. Ok, this is starting to get muddled again. Back to the list.

Pros:
-chickens
-friends - jason, beth, norm
-knitting club
-the band... and music in general
-family nearby... kinda a pro and a con, but mostly a pro
-resources. i have a woodshop and i have land that i have access to and use both to the best of my ability / time

Cons:
-no $$
-no time
-no energy
-i never see my chickens because i'm at work from dawn till dusk
-lack of freedom, can't just up and take trips
-not really growing as a person... which is a big one for me. i've always been in school or been feeding off of other people who are learning and growing. now the only knowledge that i'm getting fed is the prime rate and how many foreclosures there are in canton.


Anyway, I guess seeing that all on paper kinda helped me out. After I wrote it all down and read it back to myself, I started linking them and some things really made sense. The pattern is suffocating.

And here I am again, sitting at work, staring at a pile of files and checking the clock at regular intervals because if you look too often, then it doesn't move as fast. And I'm ducking and covering from my least favorite person in the world who keeps just standing around talking about nothing or something, I can never tell which. I think he just likes to hear himself talk. For awhile my favorite thing to do to him would be to contradict what he was saying and listen to him go around about how my idea makes sense and then he'd change his whole discussion with himself. I don't find that amusing anymore.
This is the point in my life that I contact a therapist and say help.
I was going to go back to school, but I didn't know what for. After going to the first day of class and realizing that I didn't know why I was in there, I kinda decided to take that $654 dollars and something cents that I would have wasted on yet another undergrad class and put that money towards getting a third party un-biased opinion about my life. In all actuality, I think I'm paying someone to stroke my ego, calm me down, then kick me in the pants to do something. I think I am right on the brink of what some might call hysteria.

So, the therapist called me to return my message and try to set up an appointment time. She took my name and basic info as I was swallowing the lump in my throat and then she asked me why I was seeking therapy. This is the point in the conversation where the tears that I had been trying so valiantly to hold back came screaming up through my damnable tear ducts and burst out onto my face as I blurted out, "I think I'm having a midlife crisis and I'm only 24!"
I pulled the phone away from my face and kinda hung my head in shame. How much self control do I have, honestly. Or maybe the real question is, how long have I been holding that back.


A part of me hates that I can only really sort things out in these rantings on online blogs. It seems so odd that I would let anyone who can do a search find my innermost vulnerabilities and confessions that I can't even articulate to those closest to me. But I guess the other, more prevalent part of me prefers this anonymity of not seeing anyone's face, not hearing anyone's voice and not knowing whether or not this is actually being read.

So I guess this is where I am at now. Sorting my life into two piles and seeing where I can cut the fat. I'm going back to my lofty aspirations when I would stand in front of a class full of my peers and say with my whole heart "my name is Janeé and I want to be...." which I'm not sure if that was when I was in second grade when I wanted to be a vet (before I realized that I was deathly afraid of needles) or when I was in 9th grade and wanted to be an art therapist or sophomore year of college when I wanted to be a lesbian rock star or a year ago when I wanted to be a house renovator. I don't remember a time in my life when I wanted to be an assistant in the money biz.


ACTION:
So, I think no good plan is indeed a plan without some sort of action. But then action without weighing out things rationally is just impulsive... yeah, back to the point.

1. If I want to get back into psych, the thing holding me back now is the black mark on my record... so I called a lawyer to try to see what was going on, what my rights were and how long that would stay on my record. I kinda cried a little because I'm pathetic and emotional right now, but he pretty much told me what I wanted to hear, that things fall off your record after two years, but if I was still worried about it, to write a letter to my desired employer stating what happened if they did a background search and happened to still find it. I guess that was comforting learning that I'm not damned forever if I do plan on moving into that.

2. GRE.
And yes, I am dreaming about grad school. What little girl isn't. But then again, there are a few things holding me back on this lofty aspiration, namely 1. would I go for psych or english? 2. i doubt that my grades are good enough, but then again, you never know until you try, right? 3. letters or recommendation. <--these are going to be the toughest. The only classes that I ever gave a damn about in school were my english and art classes, and regrettably I don't have much to show for those. So I guess my question is, should I go back for psych, a field which I love but classes that I don't really love, or should I go back for english, a field that has no jobs but classes that I love.


Ok, I think that's enough preponderance for today. I fear as though I might have bit off more than I can chew, but then again. That's life. I'll let you know how crazy my new shrink thinks I am. In that lawyers eyes today though, I was altruistic, young and hopeful. That's kinda a good feeling.
Aaaaand I'm crying again.


......damn feminine hormones.

yeah, i don't know.... but who does.

So, I don't know. I haven't blogged in quite a long time, I guess partially because I completely hate the word "blog" and partly because I don't have the internet at home.... certainly not for lack of content. I think once you're out of journaling for awhile, it's tough to get back in, but then again, transitions were never my strong suit.

In any case, here I am at work, staring out the window at what looks to be a beautiful sunny day but in all actuality, it is brutally cold on the other side of my big picture windows. My bosses are taking a long cocktail lunch and I'm pacing around trying to decompress from a terribly stressful morning visit courtesy of the state of Ohio licensing compliance board. I guess I'm in charge of a lot, but it's one of those jobs that "anyone can do" and therefore, they do not pay much. I bullshit online a lot, but kinda check and make sure that we are in compliance with the different states that we operate in and file quarterly reports and blah blah blah. Point being, it's one of those things that no one really notices until something goes wrong.
Not like anything went terrible this morning, but a short stocky guy with a wheeze came in with super amazing glasses and at least 30 years my senior and much the wiser for it. He came in and talked with my dude-boss for about an hour before I got paged into his office. It doesn't take much to get me shaking like a leaf and in a matter of 4.8 seconds after one question, I swore I kinda almost peed myself. I guess there was a compliance issue that I thought was resolved but indeed was not resolved and we were out of compliance and my boss was flipping.... but then after a half an hour of my heart in my throat, I remembered what I knew all along; that I knew what I was doing and we actually didn't need it.

And I have no idea why I'm spouting this all out into the cyber-world. Maybe I am just reaffirming why I don't keep a blog and haven't kept one in so long... namely because I'm boring and all I can talk about at work is work. So I guess this is the part where I move on to my personal life.


I think the major thing that is going on right now (being winter, the most boooooring time of year in Ohio) is that I just started class. Granted, it's one class at the local college and I just found out that it counts for absolutely nothing, but whatever. I like being in school and learning stuff all the time. I get stagnant and not fun if I sit around for too long. So I signed up for some journalism class thinking maybe I would get back into school and become a magazine writer or something. I don't know.... why not pile on the worthless majors. This week it's magazine journalism, last week I wanted to go back for interior design, a year ago I was going to Akron for anthropology... I think I'm cursed with the too many options and not enough focus disease.

In Germany, students at the ripe age of 14 must take a test which will determine what they are going to do with the rest of their lives. (yeah, stress?) This test is administered in 9th grade and whatever your marks are determines if you will continue on in school or if you will move into an apprenticeship with someone who is pursuing the field that you are to enter.
I guess modern day Germany is no match for just a few centuries back with the major social stratification of the proletariat vs. the bougeois where your family would determine your place in the world (oh fuck, I'd be making finn tubing for air conditioners and refrigerators in a dank garage out back 10 non-working cars for the rest of my life... or on the other side of my family, i would be an engineer for airplanes, which I guess wouldn't be terrible... but then again, I would probably just be the little housewife of an engineer.)

I think that the point of my indecision is not that I do not have the ability to do anything, but rather the possibility to do too many things.

The problem with searching for a job is the actual decision and convincing myself that this is what i'm going to do ---for the rest of my life life life ....
It's terribly scary and I tend to get bored of things after about a year, which sucks because then I'm a novice at everything, expert of nothing. That and the fact that all the things that I want to do are the typical things that every twenty-something year old girl dreams of doing... well, plus an aviary that I tote around with me. This only means that there is a huge pool of twenty something girls who would love to start up a bistro or work as a freelance writer or at a vet clinic or whatnot. What ambitious young whelp is going to say "oh god, how I would love to work the front desk of a mortgage broker business in -shittown- ohio, making a salary that's well below the poverty line".

I think this whole rant is spawning from the cruel and utter embarrassment that I was dealt yesterday, staring at the floor, in front of the entire class on the first day of school.
It was one of those dumb assignments that everyone hates where you interview one of your classmates; find out their hopes and dreams and where they grew up and whatnot in 5 minutes and then just give the highlights while people pretend to be interested.
Mine kinda went...

Name: Janee
Employed at: mortgage broker's office
Major: Undecided
Career Goals: Undecided
Why you took this class: Undecided
Something Unique: uh.. I own 50 birds.... although my ever-sweet interviewer when introducing me to the class emphasized the "really, total weirdness" of this to which the entire class responded with laughter, which I guess means that they were awake which is kinda good, but it just meant that I stared more intently at my shoes as all the blood from my quickly beating heart rushed to my face. As I scurried back to my desk, I thought over and over -why didn't I just say I'm janee who wants to write a novel who likes drinking beer or I'm janee who wants to be a school teacher and help kids who likes to cook soup.

Nope. Now I'm the registered crazy bird lady of the class who doesn't know what she's doing with her life. Sweeeeet.