Working retail during the holiday season is a bitch. There's no nice way of putting it. Thankfully I work for a company that is eco-friendly, both environmentally and economically. I take pride in the work I do and am happy to make sure that each customer is going home with the right products to suit their needs. At the end of each transaction from the middle of November until Christmas day, I would close my conversation with the customer with: "Happy Holidays!" I did this not only because I don't want to offend anyone, but also because I myself don't have Christ in my Christmas so wishing someone a merry one seems out of place.
It wouldn't be fair to classify myself as a Christian as I don't believe that Christ is my savior, someone else maybe, but not mine. I consider myself a spirtualist as I am very aware that what God is is much larger than anything any one group of people could define, so I find bits of truth as well as faults with each religion I research. Unfortunately, many people are much more close-minded than myself and I encountered several of them this season.
As I wished this woman "happy holidays," she made a big stink about how no one says "Merry Christmas" anymore. She went on a rampage about how we're in American and therefore we should all be celebrating Christmas. Since customers are miraculously always right, even though they can be very, very wrong, I agreed with her that it can be upsetting to always have to be so politically correct, but I did not wish her a Merry Christmas or agree that Christmas should be the only holiday celebrated.
With all of that said, I hope that whatever it is that you did or will celebrate is absolutely wonderful!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
And Then I Found Five Dollars
Six or seven years ago the cool thing to do was to say, "and then I found five dollars" after just about every story you told. It didn't mean anything but you always got a good laugh when someone asked "Really?" after your story was done and you then explained that it was only a figure of speech.
Last week I did a cleaning overhaul, except don't look in my closet, that doesn't count. My living space had become as cluttered as my mind and I felt boxed-in. Now there's room to do yoga in my bedroom which will help my body out of a funk as well.
Having a clean room is easy for me to do when I have a clear mind and when I'm not procrastinating on something or another. The more I put off a project, the messier my room becomes and the harder it is for me to take the time to clean it, but last week not only did I clean the whole room, I did a bunch of laundry too: I washed my sheets, my work clothes, and a couple loads of clothes that I had still bagged-up from when I moved here. Now my wardrobe selection has increased significantly and I wish I had a bigger dresser for all of it. Thankfully I have storage space for my spring/summer clothes so right now there's room in my dresser for bulky sweatshirts and sweaters.
I also cleaned out my portion of the pantry and took inventory on what I had. This was not a difficult task at all, but definitely something that had been waiting for me to accomplish.
Perhaps the most daunting task was organizing all of my Lush stuff. I had to separate which items were gifts and which were mine to keep. I organized one drawer for bath suppies and a shelf for my shower goodies. Moisturizer, dusting powders, and massage bars are now all in a storage drawer thing in my room. I got rid of all my expired product and I'm bringing the black pots back to work so they can be recycled.
Surprisingly, I didn't feel exhausted when I finished. I felt amazing. And then I found five dollars. Seriously, I did.
Last week I did a cleaning overhaul, except don't look in my closet, that doesn't count. My living space had become as cluttered as my mind and I felt boxed-in. Now there's room to do yoga in my bedroom which will help my body out of a funk as well.
Having a clean room is easy for me to do when I have a clear mind and when I'm not procrastinating on something or another. The more I put off a project, the messier my room becomes and the harder it is for me to take the time to clean it, but last week not only did I clean the whole room, I did a bunch of laundry too: I washed my sheets, my work clothes, and a couple loads of clothes that I had still bagged-up from when I moved here. Now my wardrobe selection has increased significantly and I wish I had a bigger dresser for all of it. Thankfully I have storage space for my spring/summer clothes so right now there's room in my dresser for bulky sweatshirts and sweaters.
I also cleaned out my portion of the pantry and took inventory on what I had. This was not a difficult task at all, but definitely something that had been waiting for me to accomplish.
Perhaps the most daunting task was organizing all of my Lush stuff. I had to separate which items were gifts and which were mine to keep. I organized one drawer for bath suppies and a shelf for my shower goodies. Moisturizer, dusting powders, and massage bars are now all in a storage drawer thing in my room. I got rid of all my expired product and I'm bringing the black pots back to work so they can be recycled.
Surprisingly, I didn't feel exhausted when I finished. I felt amazing. And then I found five dollars. Seriously, I did.
What is this, heartbreak?
My roommates Jenny and James will return home tomorrow* from their trip to Florida visiting with Jenny's family for Christmas. While they've been gone for a week, they've let me use their computer and car. Both things are great: since my laptop died last week, having access to the internet at home rather than making the trip to a library is rather convenient and since I've had a few midnight closing shifts, having the car to get me home from work is great too since the buses stop leaving the mall at 11:40 or so.
Since my laptop is not in working order, I haven't been able to listen to my iTunes which is quite a bummer. Thankfully I can listen to CDs in the car on my way to and from work. Tonight while I was headed back from work I popped in a CD that a friend from NMU had given me three years ago. One song came on and as I sang along, I thought: I wish I was able to post this song on Tumblr but then I realized that what I'm feeling is not what the song is talking about.
Feel free to check out the song on Last.fm: What Is This, Love? by Jason LeVasseur
So yeah. I'm in love but at the same time, I'm not. But, I am. It's become way too confusing. Maybe it's confusing because this time it's ending a little differently than I usually let it.
All of my past relationships have started in this way: I become interested in someone and I let them know and then convince them that they are also interested in me. This being interested in each other thing continues for awhile, sometimes for almost a year, other times only a handful of months (and I have very small hands). The ending always goes a little like this: I find a flaw in the person I'm with and decide I no longer want to be with them. I'm usually internally freaking out about comittment and I'm feeling smothered. I then get snippy and rude, hoping that I'll annoy the hell out of who I'm with so they'll get fed-up and will dump me. This usually doesn't work so then I give a half-assed apology for my behavior and then explain that "now really isn't the best time for me to be in a relationship. I need to take care of myself and being with someone is too distracting." They will either get it right away, accept it and move on or sometimes they cling. This is when things get really ugly. I do not like cling. Let's just say I'm claustrophobic to begin with.
So this time was different. She's got a lot going on right now and there's a distance thing. You know, 1,200 miles or so. And, I fell too fast. And now I think she's doing what I normally do. She's giving me many reasons to be unhappy with her and I've convinced myself that we're over but I haven't actually told her that yet. And, I haven't been talking to her much lately, so am I pushing her away like I normally do? I don't really know what's going on, but what I do know is that what I did feel was love and I'm trying to figure out how long it'll take for me to feel it again.
* I say tomorrow because although it actually is Tuesday, it isn't tomorrow until I've slept a couple of hours.
Since my laptop is not in working order, I haven't been able to listen to my iTunes which is quite a bummer. Thankfully I can listen to CDs in the car on my way to and from work. Tonight while I was headed back from work I popped in a CD that a friend from NMU had given me three years ago. One song came on and as I sang along, I thought: I wish I was able to post this song on Tumblr but then I realized that what I'm feeling is not what the song is talking about.
Feel free to check out the song on Last.fm: What Is This, Love? by Jason LeVasseur
So yeah. I'm in love but at the same time, I'm not. But, I am. It's become way too confusing. Maybe it's confusing because this time it's ending a little differently than I usually let it.
All of my past relationships have started in this way: I become interested in someone and I let them know and then convince them that they are also interested in me. This being interested in each other thing continues for awhile, sometimes for almost a year, other times only a handful of months (and I have very small hands). The ending always goes a little like this: I find a flaw in the person I'm with and decide I no longer want to be with them. I'm usually internally freaking out about comittment and I'm feeling smothered. I then get snippy and rude, hoping that I'll annoy the hell out of who I'm with so they'll get fed-up and will dump me. This usually doesn't work so then I give a half-assed apology for my behavior and then explain that "now really isn't the best time for me to be in a relationship. I need to take care of myself and being with someone is too distracting." They will either get it right away, accept it and move on or sometimes they cling. This is when things get really ugly. I do not like cling. Let's just say I'm claustrophobic to begin with.
So this time was different. She's got a lot going on right now and there's a distance thing. You know, 1,200 miles or so. And, I fell too fast. And now I think she's doing what I normally do. She's giving me many reasons to be unhappy with her and I've convinced myself that we're over but I haven't actually told her that yet. And, I haven't been talking to her much lately, so am I pushing her away like I normally do? I don't really know what's going on, but what I do know is that what I did feel was love and I'm trying to figure out how long it'll take for me to feel it again.
* I say tomorrow because although it actually is Tuesday, it isn't tomorrow until I've slept a couple of hours.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Did I Shave My Head For This?
On Thursday, January 29th, 2009, with four hours between classes, I decided it was the perfect day for me to shave my head. Because it was an event I had been looking forward to for about seventeen years of my life, I was quite let down by the event itself. The girl asked me numerous times if I was certain that I wanted my head shaved. She asked again and again why I wanted it done. Apparently the truth wasn't convincing enough and though I repeated the same story I still don't think she got it.
When I was a kid, I saw a woman with a shaved head and found it striking, not in a shocking or unusual way, but in an attractive, bold way. Shaving my head became another thing on the list of things to do before I die. It was put on the list before I understood my attraction to women, before I knew that I was queer.
High school would have been the worst time imaginable to make that sort of drastic appearance move, so I thought I'd wait until I was safe in the arms of a mostly liberal-minded college campus, eight hours away from home. I had a few haircuts my freshman year, but mostly my hair, much like my life, was pretty bland. My primary way of self expression was through talking, chatting, gossiping. By the time sophomore year rolled around, I was involved with three student organizations, had a few separate social spheres and I started letting peers see a different side of me while I started playing rugby. Through the season I frequently noted how I wouldn't get my hair pulled or nearly as dirty if my head was shaved. For whatever reason, I went the whole season without shaving it and then it got cold and I got my first girlfriend.
During one of our discussions on what my sexuality actually is, she claimed: "You're not truly a lesbian until you shave your head." I wasn't certain if this was one of her jokes that didn't make me laugh or if she was serious. I vowed not to shave my head while I was dating her. I had nothing to prove to anyone and I knew that shaving my head might make a statement, but the statement would come from societal norms, not from me. I put the idea out of my mind for awhile.
Then, last January after fussing with hat hair and static electricity, I started strongly considering how nice it would be to remove those agitators from my life. I told some classmates and co-workers that it could happen any day. They thought I was crazy and suggested I wait at least until spring. I couldn't.
I did however wait about ten minutes for a chair to open at the Cost Cutters on campus. And I was only in the chair for about fifteen. It was strange how refreshed I felt, how light, how accomplished. Accomplished is not the word anyone else chose when they saw me or pictures for the first time. I didn't mind though, I was satisfied.
Most people responded positively. Several women told me they wished they had the guts to do it too. I told them that it doesn't take guts, just some clippers. There were however a few setbacks. My shaved head made me appear more butch than I'd like to consider myself. I felt that the only way to really combat this was by dolling myself up a little more, but then I didn't feel like myself because I either had make-up on or more feminine attire than I'd typically choose for a night out. Since I like femme girls who like femme girls, I was striking out. Ladies, if you're reading this hoping to get some sort of relationship advice, I'll tell you this: Shaving your head does not in any way guarantee you a girlfriend or even a date.
This year I've learned why women enjoy getting their hair colored or cut on a regular basis. I can control my hair, I like when people touch my head and I like when someone notices a different with my appearance. Now my hair is only about two inches shorter than it was before I shaved it. Between the initial shaving I've shaved it down for a few months, let it grow, bleached the tips, henna dyed it, mohawked it (yes, with the sides shaved), and have decided that I'm going to let it grow out.
It's going to take awhile but that's what's in store for 2010.
2009: A Year In Hair, The Pictures
When I was a kid, I saw a woman with a shaved head and found it striking, not in a shocking or unusual way, but in an attractive, bold way. Shaving my head became another thing on the list of things to do before I die. It was put on the list before I understood my attraction to women, before I knew that I was queer.
High school would have been the worst time imaginable to make that sort of drastic appearance move, so I thought I'd wait until I was safe in the arms of a mostly liberal-minded college campus, eight hours away from home. I had a few haircuts my freshman year, but mostly my hair, much like my life, was pretty bland. My primary way of self expression was through talking, chatting, gossiping. By the time sophomore year rolled around, I was involved with three student organizations, had a few separate social spheres and I started letting peers see a different side of me while I started playing rugby. Through the season I frequently noted how I wouldn't get my hair pulled or nearly as dirty if my head was shaved. For whatever reason, I went the whole season without shaving it and then it got cold and I got my first girlfriend.
During one of our discussions on what my sexuality actually is, she claimed: "You're not truly a lesbian until you shave your head." I wasn't certain if this was one of her jokes that didn't make me laugh or if she was serious. I vowed not to shave my head while I was dating her. I had nothing to prove to anyone and I knew that shaving my head might make a statement, but the statement would come from societal norms, not from me. I put the idea out of my mind for awhile.
Then, last January after fussing with hat hair and static electricity, I started strongly considering how nice it would be to remove those agitators from my life. I told some classmates and co-workers that it could happen any day. They thought I was crazy and suggested I wait at least until spring. I couldn't.
I did however wait about ten minutes for a chair to open at the Cost Cutters on campus. And I was only in the chair for about fifteen. It was strange how refreshed I felt, how light, how accomplished. Accomplished is not the word anyone else chose when they saw me or pictures for the first time. I didn't mind though, I was satisfied.
Most people responded positively. Several women told me they wished they had the guts to do it too. I told them that it doesn't take guts, just some clippers. There were however a few setbacks. My shaved head made me appear more butch than I'd like to consider myself. I felt that the only way to really combat this was by dolling myself up a little more, but then I didn't feel like myself because I either had make-up on or more feminine attire than I'd typically choose for a night out. Since I like femme girls who like femme girls, I was striking out. Ladies, if you're reading this hoping to get some sort of relationship advice, I'll tell you this: Shaving your head does not in any way guarantee you a girlfriend or even a date.
This year I've learned why women enjoy getting their hair colored or cut on a regular basis. I can control my hair, I like when people touch my head and I like when someone notices a different with my appearance. Now my hair is only about two inches shorter than it was before I shaved it. Between the initial shaving I've shaved it down for a few months, let it grow, bleached the tips, henna dyed it, mohawked it (yes, with the sides shaved), and have decided that I'm going to let it grow out.
It's going to take awhile but that's what's in store for 2010.
2009: A Year In Hair, The Pictures
Something Sophisticated (an attempt)
If I don't see you more than once a week then each time I do see you, you say: "So, what have you been up to?" and "Why don't I ever know what's going on with you?" and sometimes you even say: "Why don't you send me an email every now and then to let me know how you're doing?"
Depending on how I'm feeling that day I could answer you with a few variations but typically I'll say: "If you'd follow me on Tumblr, you'd know." A couple days ago I realized that's a lie. I've since felt uneasy posting some things on Tumblr and other things I post would probably give my grandmother a heart attack, so I'll just hope she never finds it.
Needless to say, I need somewhere to throw thoughts, hope someone catches them whips them back. I don't mind if it's a curve ball. I can handle it; it would be preferred. Yes, I have a LiveJournal too, and I even had a different Blogger account once upon a time.
Things are different now. I'll keep-up with my Tumblr account as it's become a great community for me and I've met some outstanding people, one for certain I'll cherish my whole life. I will put other things here though: things I've been pondering, tidbits of things I find interesting, but mostly it'll be a good way for you to get to know me. You, the guy who sat next to me in Ms. Craemer's Algebra II class. You, the barista that doesn't mind my pickiness with pastries. You, my sort-of cousin as your aunt is my dad's ex-wife. You, Sister, checking this blog every three months when you remember that it exists and you have a couple minutes after changing a diaper. You, ex-girlfriend/ladyfriend/guyfriend/boyfriend who stumbled upon this and are not certain if you want to know what I'm up to but are now intrigued by my pointing you out. And you, someone who stumbled upon this blog and enjoyed what you read.
So, instead of date night, watching another Food Network Challenge, or doing some cleaning, I've created a new blog. What a successful day.
Depending on how I'm feeling that day I could answer you with a few variations but typically I'll say: "If you'd follow me on Tumblr, you'd know." A couple days ago I realized that's a lie. I've since felt uneasy posting some things on Tumblr and other things I post would probably give my grandmother a heart attack, so I'll just hope she never finds it.
Needless to say, I need somewhere to throw thoughts, hope someone catches them whips them back. I don't mind if it's a curve ball. I can handle it; it would be preferred. Yes, I have a LiveJournal too, and I even had a different Blogger account once upon a time.
Things are different now. I'll keep-up with my Tumblr account as it's become a great community for me and I've met some outstanding people, one for certain I'll cherish my whole life. I will put other things here though: things I've been pondering, tidbits of things I find interesting, but mostly it'll be a good way for you to get to know me. You, the guy who sat next to me in Ms. Craemer's Algebra II class. You, the barista that doesn't mind my pickiness with pastries. You, my sort-of cousin as your aunt is my dad's ex-wife. You, Sister, checking this blog every three months when you remember that it exists and you have a couple minutes after changing a diaper. You, ex-girlfriend/ladyfriend/guyfriend/boyfriend who stumbled upon this and are not certain if you want to know what I'm up to but are now intrigued by my pointing you out. And you, someone who stumbled upon this blog and enjoyed what you read.
So, instead of date night, watching another Food Network Challenge, or doing some cleaning, I've created a new blog. What a successful day.
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