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Thing I am most grateful for today: A clean, safe environment to live in

Why haven’t I posted in like over a week? Two reasons. And this post will address both of them.

1. It’s primarily accountability. I am supposed to be writing this post primarily to address my job search. And well, I have definitely been falling down on that front. I feel as if I am letting you (my 6-ish readers, but on a good day up to 15-ish readers down.) While I have started blogs in the past and never published more than a handful of posts before abandoning them. And this blog has been so cathartic. I need to publish more . . .and job search more. And fill you in my no-money exploits.

2. For the past week I have been spending an incredible amount of time with friend David. On Friday I went with him and a few friends to Eve Yom Kippur services ( primarily to learn more about why as a Christian should I support Israel and Jews in general). Also I have been spending time with him at his partner’s home. David will be moving in with his partner at the beginning of October. However, until then, he is on a cleaning rampage, and I happen to be his first mate on this voyage.

David believes that everything has a place and there is a place for everything. He is a def type A personality, and while he can handle small bits of clutter, he can’t handle full-on mess. And I am a professional at making messes and cleaning messes. So, I have been helping David clean this house, one room at a time. And trying to improve the smell in the house (it’s a mix of dog, dog pee and smoke . . .YUCK!)

The first two rooms (his and his partner’s bedroom and the living room) went by fast. Tonight was the kitchen. And we didn’t even get half way done with this one. And by far this is the worst room in the house!

Rat poop abounds. The smell of moth balls and grease weigh heavy in the air. I am throughly disgusted. And whats worse. David’s partner and his roommate have lived like this for at least a year! I cannot imagine living like this for any amount of time.

While I realize that there are people who live in conditions worse than this, it makes me truly grateful for my living environment and the fact that I never had to live in an environment like this. So as I go to bed in my clean sheets, I know when I wake up in the morning I have not had to share my bran flakes with another creature in the middle of the night. I know that while I maybe broke, I am better off than most people in my situations. And tonight I feel truly grateful.

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Apparently the ABC network is introducing a show called My Generation. This show is about a handful of people who graduated in 2000 and where their lives have taken them in the 10 years since they graduated high school. Some have gone on and accomplished great things and some have just merely scraped by. Needless to say, I don’t think I will be watching this show . . .as I am already too familiar with this subject.

Since I have been getting in touch with my 15/16-year-old self, I am reminded that I am getting older. And as my 10 high school reunion is coming up (btw . . .I would rather dental surgery than go to my high school reunion. True, dental surgery isn’t fun, but at least you get drugs and jello with dental surgery. With a high school reunion you just get shame and misery . . .more jello please!) I am constantly inundated with the fact that I was/am in the generation that was going to lead us to tomorrow. We are bright and smart and gifted . . .and of course to have non-padded, gavel, rock and metal playgrounds.

True, I know several people my age that are out there doing great things for humanity, living their dreams, and otherwise good citizens. Yet, it seems that self-entitlement has not fallen on generations before mine, but more like mine. So I also know my share of that . . .well lets just say, life isn’t going the best for them.

As for my life . . .well, I am more blessed than I realize. Yet, I don’t need some high school reunion to remind me that it has taken me more than a while to finish school (I finished my undergrad in 4 years . . .my graduate degree in 2, yet it has taken me 10 years to get both and no substantial career. Not to mention, I went to high school in the South (not the Dirty South . . .just the conservative, traditional, you need a husband and babies to be happy South). So, since I am not down with the husband and kids thing, this could get ugly! Plus, there are more people there I want to avoid than to see.

Ok . . .sorry for the trip into self-pity alley. But I feel as if I haven’t accomplished anything in life really. I guess as I take my next steps into the world, I might feel better about this. In the words of Paula Cole (and yes, the theme song to Dawson’s Creek) “I don’t wanna wait, for our lives to be over, I want to know right now what will it be!” Time to head out into the world . . .any suggestions along the way?

Days to graduation: 24

I have somewhat recovered from most of my stress induced aliments. However, my hair is still falling out by the handfuls. It’s like my stress has induced spontaneous-chemo treatments. But I didn’t come here to talk about cancer or chemo or cancer induced death. Just death in general tonight.

Death never makes appointments or comes when its convenient. It’s often sad, sometimes joyous, and maybe a little bit funny. My roommate, Samantha, has seen a bit too much death in the past 18 months. Her mother died, from cancer at 62. 13 months later her father died from an irregular heart arrhythmia at 78. Samantha was not only and only child, but a late in life child to boot (she is 23).

Both of her parents wanted to be cremated. However, there was no instructions for their ashes. So therefore, the ashes are her property now. Not wanting to explain an all-to-obvious ash urn, Samantha decided on two decorative containers. One from World Market and one from Hobby Lobby. (BTW . . .if you need an ash container, def check out the selection at both stores. It’s def cheaper.) The containers sit on a bookshelf in her room.

Most people don’t recognize what those containers are (or whats in them). When they find out, they freak! Its kinda funny watching them find excuses to get out of the house! It’s not like the remains of their human bodies can get out of those sealed containers and grab you!

If they haven’t totally freaked out, then I tell them the story of arts and crafts with dad. You see. Samantha’s dad lived about 6 hours away. He died on a Monday afternoon. It was going to take a day or two before his remains could be cremated. When she went back on Friday to clean out his apartment she picked up his remains in a temporary container (aka, a plastic bag inside a cardboard box). He lived (and I use that term very, very, loosely) on our kitchen counter in his temporary container for about a week. The following Saturday we opened the box and transfer the bag with his remains into the container and sealed it up with super glue! We weighed down the top of the container with a phone book until the glue dried and she put him on the bookshelf next to her mom!

Ok, some of you are thinking . . .this story is sick! I’ll give you that. Personally, I think its kind of funny. How many 20-somethings would be willing to do something like.

My generation is known for one particularly bad thing . . .we are boomerang children. This isn’t the case with my roommate. I joke with here about the fact that I have to live with her parent. They are getting mail here. People are calling them on her phone, using up her mins. And how inconsiderate they are carrying on with those long, moaning conversations in the middle of the night. She laughs. And maybe for a minute she remembers them in a good light.

She once told me that when it was just her mom in her room that “mom watches me do the nasty!” When she brought home dad I told her that “both your parents can watch you do the nasty. . .they would be so proud.”

And speaking of doing the nasty . . .Samantha was supposed to get a drink with a guy that had a long-standing crush on her. He was so good-looking and they had a mutual friend together, David. On Friday morning this guy died of Bacterial meningitis. David also lost his grandfather a short time ago and was in the room with Samantha when her father died. I call these two “the death squad.” Obviously, they don’t want to be in this little duo. But sometimes you have to laugh . . .even when you feel like crying. Sometimes its the only thing to do when you can’t go on. Next time you think of death . . .find some humor in it.

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