(no subject)

I'm back to the level of busy that I don't believe anyone understands unless they, also, are at that level of busy, and thus we hardly ever see eachother.  

The newest teacher in the Social Work department, a Dr. Balliro, accused me of being an overachiever, stating "Well, there's one in every class."  It's only been a day, but that word has been hounding me a little... overachiever.  Suggesting that I attempt more than I can successfully take on.  Verb.  "1. to perform, especially academically, above the potential indicated by tests of one's mental ability or aptitude.  2. to perform better or achieve more than expected, especially by others." (   Is that really me?  Am I really a person others expect to do poorly, or to be unable to accomplish the goals I've set for myself?  I know this word can easily be said with positive connontations, but it assumes that I shouldn't be able to do what I set out to accomplish.

That's just not the case.  I do a lot, and I have distinct goals, but I manage to accomplish them.  I think, if anything, the only person who ever lets on that they are surprised is myself.  I'm blessed to have a ton of incredible people in my life who really and truly believe in the power of self-motivation, who believe that "you can do anything you want to do."  While I feel like I'm holding onto it by the skin of my teeth, I never really think I can't do it.  That would be a mind killer.

I finally got a copy of McDaniel's The Endarkenment, and I'm loving it, of course.  Some reviewer on the back says that reading his poetry in particular will "open a skylight in your brain", and I think that's one of the best expressions I've yet heard.  That man's words are a catlyst in my mind, every single time.  I start thinking differently, more creatively, and I feel more attentive to both my internal and external world.  
There was a lady at the bus stop this morning who told me "I like your whole... how do I say that?... I like your whole face style and style."  She told me that big girls sometimes forget that they can look pretty.  I disagreed, told her my general theory on trying harder because we feel we have to, and her eyes glazed over.  Maybe I had that look on my face too; we're poor mirrors, but excellent projectors.  Each of us was expressing an truth we've internalized, and they didn't mesh, and there isn't really a social etiquitte rule for that.  She rode the bus to Arcata, and was bouncing and twitching the whole way.  Face rubbing, moving her arms and hands in tiny jerking motions.  A projector again, my assumption is that she was on something, but I don't know what.  You can do that with way too much caffiene, but she wasn't moving in the fluid way humans move.  Even the akward, the physically disabled, the folks with Parkinsons and who weigh 500 pounds and who have broken bones move in a way we're supposed to.  We look organic.  This doesn't; it never looks organic to me.  It never feels organic.

Halloween is going to fall on a school day for me, on the day that I have Swing Dance.  I'm thinking I really ought to dress up, and will probably re-use the German Beer girl costume for that.  I'm not going to tell any more people than I already have what the Andy&Laurel party costume will be, but it's gonna be something special.  For IMPS, which is fairy tale themed, Ryan and I are going to dress as Shrek and Fiona.  Because that is just sickeningly cute.  For the MAC Halloween party, I'm doing a Cheshire cat again.  Two new costumes; fun times.  I hope you know what you're going to be.

Swing Dance is fun, and Power Step is kicking my ass.  I wasn't able to attend the latter last week, and part of that was because of my head.  I've been having, over the last 2 weeks, some sort of progressive dizzyness.  It's been happening with concerning frequency, this dizzyness when I stand up or sit down, or roll over in my bed.  It was bad enough last week that I was dizzy even when just sitting still.  I think it's getting better now, but I'm a bit afraid of falling over in class.

I think I might actually be allergic to exersize.  No, I'm joking.  Still, I always start develping flu-like symptoms when I start a regiem.  It's a wee bit distressing, and it makes going consistently an internally difficult thing.  I get enjoyment out of dancing, but still not out of exersice.  The up side?  While working out, I'm not massively concerned with all the things I have to do, all the things I have to keep together.  I'm too busy trying not to trip over my feet and where to put them, where to put my arms, how to move and do it correctly.  I really don't like looking at myself in the mirror when I'm doing the class.

There's so much more to write about, but I'm out of time. 

  • Current Mood
    busy busy
Footprints on the Moon

Back to the crazy time of year

This week has been a wee bit shy of crazy, but I guess that's the way I like it.

First, work! Today is the last day of the last week of me working for Jaz over the summer, and I'm not even working a full shift. It's always a little intense over the summer, but this season seems particularly confusing. The office lady, who we were all rather fond of, left to live in Sacramento, so there was an up high scramble that moved it's way down to the lower reaches of floor staff. Everyone seemed a little more discombobulated than typical.

Another lovely lady left. She's a friend of mine, and she was just very burnt out on the field in general and this place of employment in particular. I'm glad that she resigned, because it is best for her and because she hasn't been as present as the clientele really need her to be. However, rather than giving her two weeks, she just up and and quit. While I haven't yet been able to speak to her (and I think she may be avoiding me) I think I understand her reasons. Still, it was massively irresponsible of her, and I'm more than a little disappointed in her decision. Following your heart is good, and more people should do it. It's very fulfilling. When following your heart, though, pay attention to your feet, lest you step on someone else.

The NSQ campers are having a staff barbeque at Yvonne's on Sunday, and I'm looking forward to re-connecting with the ladies back here in the real world.

Second, school! The 442 breadth course got changed at the last minute for essentially unknown reasons. The program hired a new staff member, a Dr. Michael Ballerio (spelling?), and what was "Adventure" is now "Social Work, Social Justice and The Prison Industrial Complex." Let me tell you, I am jazzed. This class is going to be awesome, group work and all.

Natural disasters will require me to keep up, but I should manage a 4.0 out of it. One page of handwritten notes are allowed on exams, so I'm fine. If I can have a few notes, I'll ace it. (I know I can I know I can I know I can...)

The exercise classes are going to kick my butt. I'm going from a fundamentally sedentary existence to pretty intense workouts three days a week. Let me tell you, my legs are sore! The swing dance class is going to be fun, and dance has always felt like fun rather than a chore, but I know I'll have to push myself to keep attending the power step. The teacher seems to understand the variety of issues I'm dealing with in her class (weight - as in moving around more, joint issues) and doesn't mind if I drop out of the routine and just march in place if that's all I can do. If she doesn't care, and it doesn't affect my credit, then I'm just going to keep doing what I can. Hoo-ah!

I haven't yet started my internship, and I'm feeling a little big lost due to my supervisor's casual attitude. While I am expecting to begin next week, I haven't been able to get a clear answer. Following the internship orientation today, I'm going to try and get something (anything) hammered out so I can start planning ahead.

Of that planning ahead, Social Work Student Association! Officers are having our first meeting today, and I've got one heck of an agenda in my head. I really want to make the club a little more fun and a little more active so that we get greater participation numbers. Movie nights are a shoe in, and I've gotten several of the teachers on board with giving extra credit for participation in the movie nights, as so many of them will be in line with current classes. I decided (because I can do that!) that Champion is going to be our first movie.  Link:
Danny Trejo is an excellent storyteller, so the story that I've already heard versions of is very fresh and engaging.  I think it has the potential to lead to great discussion.  Also, I might be able to talk Dr. Ballerjio into giving us extra credit for it.  Woo hoo.

CASA court case is coming up, and I'm not quite ready.  I need to get my court report written, and this weekend is already pretty stuffed.  Ryan and I are hosting all the Rocky cast parties now (which I prefer to attending another Rocky ever again), so that's happening Friday.  Saturday is IMPS, and we're working teardown.  Sunday is the NSQ barbeque, and Monday is back to school.  Somehow, I've gotta get all my homework done and a rough draft of the court report written.  I can do this, yes I can.  I just have to do this (and may not clean anything at all).

Also?  I want to got to Portland still.  Heee.

It never rains but it pours, and this is why I'm probably never having kids.  Waaaaaaay too busy. 

Oh, and I am making headway on being a snake mommy!  A young man from Chico is selling a Ball Python and all it's accesories for around $200 (I'll haggle him down if I want it) and I'm going to meet it Monday around noon.  I may have a snake soon!  He will totally be renamed, yes he will.  While it depends on the critter, does anyon have good snake name suggestions?  I mean, he's a snake.  He's not gonna care.

As the last thing for this update, those of you on the East coast are in my thoughts today.  I was freaked out by the earthquake because most of those states have no idea what to do in an earthquake.  I'm less concerned about Irene because I know that you know what to do and how to stay safe.  Still, I hope there is no damage or danger to you or anyone you know.  Love.
Goodie!, Oh

A mash of updates

Livejournal was down for a bit during the last time I wanted to update; I'm still glad this site exists!

I'm moving slowly over to Google +, only truly slowed by the people who haven't made the change. If you're interested, I've got a bunch of invites. Send me your email address. That said, this is probably the last livejournal post that will also link to facebook. G+'s circles make it much easier to control the flow of my personal information.

Onto writing, and where to start? I don't journal nearly as much as I used to, or nearly as much as I have reason to. When I try to step back and look at my life, there is so much that I never expected, and so many projects it's nearly overwhelming! I fill my time, however, because I am happier when I am "doing". As lazy as I can be, the doing makes life worth living.

Jaz Kidz keeps on changing on all levels. New clients and new staff, but so many of the same old problems. Cleaning, consistency, storage, financial issues (political), etc. As much as I love working there, and love the kids, I am looking forward to a future where I have a bit more say over my environment, and learning new things in new settings. There are drudgery sort of walls with this kind of work, and I feel like I'm running into them.

With the news things comes my internship. As I was pleased to learn last semester, I got my first choice of internship at RCAA's Multiple Assistance Center (MAC). The power structure, there and at Family Services in general, has changed a little since summer break began; Brendan, who I interviewed with, no longer works there. While a lot of data I have is gossip-based, let's just say that I'm a little more nervous than I was previously. However, the MAC is going to be amazing for me. To really compact as much learning as I can into this year of school - so that I can get into the Advanced Standing Master's Program at HSU - I need to have access to a variety of services in the continuum of care, and experience aiding clients in numerous situations with numerous risk issues. The MAC is an excellent place to do this, and it's just down the street from a bus stop.

School starts on the 22nd of August; that would be 11 days and counting. 11! That's not even two full weeks! The stress bunny has started. I need to spend some distinct amount of time getting everything ready to go this week. I don't have my school books yet (and won't until I get money) but I can hunt down and set up essentially everything else I'll need.

In addition to school, my CASA case is nearing it's court date, so I have to spend some time working on the report for the judge, as well as hunting down and talking to anyone involved with the childrens' lives that I haven't yet conversed with.

In my head, this all comes on the tail of a whale of a good feeling of a job well done. North Star Quest Camp for Girls was a total blast! I had fun and I get to add to my resume, as well as having a wonderful nonprofit I can fundraise for throughout the year; I expected this. It's what I didn't expect that still has me reeling in joy: amazement. I did not expect to be amazed by 37 pre-teen girls; I did not expect to be in awe of their capacity for love, compassion, understanding, and power. I did not expect the get my cynical shell so well cracked, or to break down and cry, or to have a dastardly inner clown. Sometimes, the unexpected is exactly what we need. I'm so grateful that I've gotten to participate in this, and you can bet I'll be working my butt off to make sure next year happens as well!

Let's see, what else? So many projects! The incredible SuperKate (who is getting married Saturday) helped me to set up my sewing machine. While I'm still a novice, I can sew! I intend on making a t-shirt quilt for both practice and camping warmth.

I have the intention of becoming a snake mommy in the near future. I am trying to hunt down used (and therefore cheaper) setup goods, such as a tank and heating lights, to get a habitat available. After talking to the gentlemen at Fin & Feather, one of the smaller pythons or a milksnake will probably be the best choice for me. I need relatively small (around 3 feet) and not incredibly thick snakes so that I can be in control if ever a questionable situation arises. While the boas of my friends are beautiful, that's far too much snake for me to handle.

There's more (there is always more) and hopefully I can work journaling into a morning routine.
Cry Bunny

The obit

Nettie was born in Lookout, CA to Charles and Zettie Potter-Gooch on Feburary 9th, 1913. She had 6 siblings: Mazella Oilar Coe, Ora Gooch, Rush Gooch, Hazel Wertz, Carrie Cessna and (1/2 brother) Tim Ostrom. She attended Little Hot Springs School and was a 1932 graduate of Big Valley High School. She married John Lewis Hendrix on May 18, 1935 in Alturas, CA and had 3 children: Bonny Sattler, Donald Hendrix and Carrie Ashe. At the time of her death, she was 98 yrs old.

Nettie was both creative and capable in her many endeavors. She grew large flower and vegetable gardens with vigor over the years, and raised many farm animals on her ranch. She enjoyed leatherwork, sewing, quilting, and creating dried flower arrangements for personal gifts and club fundraisers. She also enjoyed participating in the Intermountain Fair, entering many of beautiful things throughout her life.

She was an active member of the Garden Club and the Day Community Center for several years and worked as a cook at Mayers Memorial Hospital until she retired.

She is survived by her son Donald Hendrix, daughter Carrie Ashe, 9 Grandchildren: Kristi Keadle, Karrie "Pete" Mike, Jay Keadle, Lisa Stanley, Cindy Jones, John Ashe, Tom Ashe, Reid Hendrix and Brett Hendrix; 15 Great-Grandchildren: Diamond Moebus, Rachel Moebus, Griff Mike, Brittany Jones, Donald and Sara Stanley, Heather, Haley and Tanner Ashe, Corbin and Chloe Ashe, Jackie and Jared Keadle, Shasta Hendrix; and 1 great Great-Great-Grandaughter, Kaeyden Keadle.

(edited to improve some language, grammar, and punctuation).
Purple Scream(def)

July 10th, 2011, 9:15 PM, Mayers Memorial Hospital, McArthur, CA.

My Great-Grandmother Nettie Hendrix - Gramma - died Sunday night at 9:15. She was 98, seven months shy of her 99th birthday, give or take a day. She had slipped into a coma, her body shutting down. She literally died of old age, as had a long line of Gooch people.

My responses don't make sense to me, and underline (to me) that I don't deal well with grief. It's never something I've figured out. I've been one part dysphoric and one part dissociative, essentially either depressed and irritable, or feeling like a non-human. I have recently been feeling like a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup. Before that, I was feeling like a balloon.

Her house smelled like dirt, sunlight, fabric, and ash.

There were always growing things. I never knew anyone who could get anything to grow as well as she could.

She made the most incredible food. Everything in her house was always clean. She collected owls, and all the blankets and pillows were made by her. She tried to teach me to sew - pillows of all sorts. She had the small sets of Crayola markers for us to draw with. She grew sprouts and put them in her fridge.

We hold onto lessons. Gramma taught me leatherworking, paper crafts, dry flower arraignments, and what a home cooked Thanksgiving dinner should taste like. She was incredibly crafty. She held up under grief.

I keep doing what I'm supposed to. Fundraising for North Star Quest Camp, organizing the Social Work Library online... what I said I'd do. I think she would tell me that life keeps happening even if someone dies, and that you have to keep going.

Gramma once told me, "Diamond, I'm not going to tell you to stop smoking and drinking. My husband is dead, my kids are dead, and my friends are dead, and I'm getting very bored with living." She just kept living, but she had been ready to pass on for years.

I won't be able to go to her memorial. There are at least 37 young girls who don't know me, but are depending on me to follow through with my obligations. I think this is the best thing. I'm more emotional than I ever knew her to be, but I think she would like the idea that I'm doing what I said I would do. At least, this is what I will tell myself.

I don't know that she was ever proud of me. She didn't like that I was fat, or liberal, but she loved that I was her grand-daughter. This is a ... I forget the word. A moment by which we define our lives, the before and after. This is a marker. Until Sunday, there was a world with Gramma in it. Now I live in a world where she is not. This world is lonelier, a place that is more empty.

And comfort, what there is, comes from the strangest places. Someone who is still only an acquaintance, but who I would like to be a friend, gave me the first encompassing hug. And then didn't treat me like I can't talk anymore. Ryan, bless him, has no idea what to do, because I guess I don't react like other people he knows. I'm not lucid enough to be sure of what I need.

I don't have any more blood grandparents. If I ever have children, they will never have maternal great grandparents. I don't know where to put grief. There are so many facets to it, it just doesn't fit in me. It keeps bouncing around inside, poking different parts and making them hurt. I keep turning off, watching the tube and drinking, keeping busy, but it keeps bouncing back around.


So you think you can tell....

Last night, I went to sleep angry. I was angry at stupid internet conversations, and angry at people I haven't seen in weeks, months, and years. The anger kept me from being able to sleep, so I decided near (eventually) falling asleep that I would see the beauty in the next day. I was able to get little sleep, around 5 hours.

While today has had it's share of small frustrations to which I have paid too much attention (e.g. the jerk who parks like one) it has been a uniquely beautiful day.

Today, I was blessed with a range of small, perfect moments, all connected by a general thread of optimism, excitement, and pleasure. There were conversations about pie, cheese, chocolate, peppers, and nothing at all in the grocery store today. There were kind smiles from checkers and workers. There were moments of driving where the other driver was the first to be polite, and there were incredibly purple flowers. There was the motion of short, sharp poetry within the movements of delightful children.

I read a variety of writings by Carl Sagan, and cried. (ETA: HERE, this! Doesn't this make you sad? ). Then, I listened to some, and cried again. I explored my feelings surrounding the death of this universe. I really am afraid, and sad because of it, that I live in a universe-dimension wherein the human race - out of laziness and purely financial concerns - will never populate the planets hiding in the shadows of the stars. I hope still for R. Danieel Olivaw, but I do actively mourn the passing of space travel in my lifetime.

So long as I am a conscious, thinking being, part of me will feel as empty as those spaces between the stars which we will never explore. If a "we" ever does, it will be a people with whom I am unfamiliar. It will be a people with which I do not feel an inherent kinship, and thus, in the arrogance of humanity, it will not be "my people".

The food was well made for a first time, and I received probably more compliments than I deserved. It was tasty, and I experienced a profound joy in feeding people I care for. I also fed them alcohol, laughed at my mistakes, and found this comfortable companionship which I am so lucky to experience.

And now, at this moment, I am listening to those musical compilations which make me feel sad. I am sad in a kind manner to the youth I once was. I am sad for the future. I am sad for the person who once felt this way, and feel an almost desperate empathy for those who still do.

There is still a loneliness in the early AM hours which never has quite left my life. I am glad for this because, as I have grown into a world surrounded by joy and beauty, these early moments still allow me to feel a deep, morose core which will remain part of my being for so long a you and I share breath.

Hey. Love.
Purple Scream(def)

(no subject)

I've taken naps two days in a row now. It's more than a little unusual for me to do this, but the results are magical sanity. Without any effort, I feel like I've had quiet time with my own mind.

With dogged determination, I am slowly and successfully making it through this semester. May 10th is the last day I have anything due, and I will be free and clear. In the shorter term, I have two presentations to give/have completed this week.

Crushes are delicious. I'm learning how utterly enjoyable, how heady a wine, unrequited crushes can be. It's a little like having a song playing in your head, nonstop. It's a little like being drunk, and utterly happy with the entire universe. Sometimes, we can learn about ourselves simply by being ourselves, by feeling all that we have inside and quietly, lovingly accepting it. It's no more action than opening our arms to ourselves.

Tattoos haven't happened yet. What with Skinsignea moving, and my absurd schedule, it just hasn't happened yet. While I'm just ancy to get it done, I also know that it'll happen sooner or later.

Spring schedule:
SW 442 - Advanced Social Work Methods with Christian Itin. Monday, 3:00-5:50 (3u)
PE 196 - Swing Dance with J. O'Connor. Monday 6:00PM - 7:50PM (1u)
GEOL 308 - Natural Disasters with L. Dengler. Tues & Thurs, 12:30PM - 1:50PM (3u)
PE 255 - Water Polo with Kevin Fraser. Tues & Thurs 3:00PM - 3:50PM (1u)
SW 456 - Field Experience Seminar with Debbie Gonzalez. Tues, 5:30PM - 7:20PM (2u)
SW 455 - Social Work Field Experience - i.e. The Internship. (5u)

Weeeeeee! Still full time, and I'll be getting exercise in. Isn't that just beautiful?

In other news, I'm so lucky to be so well loved by so many incredible, beautiful people.
Purple Scream(def)

Bad poetry

Is this
how you

Is this how I can access your skin
so pale and soft and dare I say

Is 140 characters or less the only way I can write
lust poems
to your mind?

I feel lost
in this century.
Burning with cute

Of Breakfast and Teeth

(Overly dramatic version)

I woke up this past Sunday to a loud, unusual sort of banging coming from inside my house. Groggy with sleep and still tethered to dreams, I rolled over to ask Ryan what was going on. He was not in bed. With only minor concern, I stumbled out of his sheets and into my bedroom, to see if Ryan was there. He was not, and the banging had stopped. I thus surmised that Ryan, ever busy and building, must be the source of the unusual noise.

As I needed to leave the house for a North Star Quest Camp meeting in a couple hours, the next area to which I stumbled was the bathroom. Post-hygiene routine, this scrubbed and much more alert girl got dressed in preparation for the day. Down the stairs I went, only faintly noticing the smell of something fried. At the base of the stairs, Ryan - having heard me arrive - said "There's coffee by the monitor sweetie, and I'm making breakfast."

Ryan was in the kitchen, his back towards me. I walked over to him with the intent of giving him a big good morning hug and kiss. He turned around before I got there, and his jaw dropped.

"You're dressed!" He said, sounding distressed.
"Yeah, I have the Camp thing in a couple hours in Old Town," I responded.
Looking now dejected, and loosely gripping a spatula in his had, he replied in a pleading tone: "But... I'm making chicken fried pork steak with eggs. You'll still have time to eat it, won't you?"

(Of course I did, and it was amazing).

In other news, I finally had a "teeth falling out" dream. I can join the ranks of everyone, for the scientists say that everyone has had one of these dreams. A couple strange things for you, though:
First, my teeth looked suspiciously like peanut brittle.
Second, the dream teeth chunks were attached to the tooth base by thin wires running through them. To remove the portion that was falling out, I had to pull out the wires as well. It was a very uncomfortable dream.

And... today is a short school day, so I'm making a turkey. End of line.