’tis the season to be…miserable?

i saw this looming doom last weekend when I realized the Davis-Boozer’s were going down south for their Christmas vacation. They were to be gone for 2 whole weeks. And this not only saddened me, seeing as we’ve all gotten very close, but also kind of terrified me. Why? Well, I just really enjoy living with people. I like the noise of the kids (most of the time), the mess, the fun, the working together of community. But I also enjoy the part of it that I don’t always mention. It keeps me from my loneliness. From having to deal with me, myself, all alone with my thoughts and feelings. and that truly is terrifying. luckily, this week has been so incredibly ridiculous i haven’t felt too much of that, but the creeping loneliness did add to the miserable factor.

it really began sunday. david had this awful cough and kept hacking up a lung and calla maria got a weird fever thing saturday night on Quinn’s first birthday (yay Quinn!). i thought i had quietly tiptoed around the diseases, but sure calla maria’s flu-ish thing got me. it wasn’t terrible. I had a fever, the chills, and a sore throat Sunday night. but i didn’t really feel better monday morning. i slept in, didn’t go to work (even though i don’t acquire sick days till i’ve worked there for a year which is total B.S. let me tell you) till 11:30 and then realized I had lost my wallet. which wouldn’t be that big of a deal (yes it would) except that i’m supposed to flying home next week and one needs an i.d. to do that. so i don’t have an i.d. and have no way of getting an oregon i.d. since they cost, you know, money.

and then the davis-boozers left me. tuesday at 4 am. and i got to be the one to drive them to the airport. which was fine except that i still felt crappy from being sick and couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. so i make it to work and this week the weather has totally sucked. seriously, everyday this past week and this upcoming week looks like this:

Sat

49°F | 46°F

Sun

51°F | 47°F

Mon

48°F | 38°F

Tue

43°F | 34°F

and when it looks like that outside and you don’t feel good, you don’t bother going on outings. but mind you, this actually is tough choice because outings are what keep you sane at work. because if you don’t get out of that space you may turn into a client. ok, maybe i took it a little far, but outings keep you from having to keep a client constantly entertained for 9 hours straight. they give you a break and give you something else to see besides flourescent lights and endless crafts. so i didn’t go anywhere monday or tuesday, no big deal.

yeah right. what i didn’t know is that i would be stuck at work with nowhere to go for the next 2 days. i wouldn’t get to go anywhere until friday. and that was miserable. because i had to work with this client whose diagnosis is being infatuated with female staff. greaaat. and and he’s not just at work from 8-1 or 1-5. oh no. he, somehow, has to be there from 8:3o to 3, which makes absolutely no sense. So being one to one with this dude for that long, who likes coloring picutres of betty boop and staring at a cartoon of the red head, big boobed chic from that movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit, didn’t exactly, um, excite me. oh and he has grand mal seizures and that freaks me out. luckily he only had a minor one when i was working with him on friday but it still makes me really nervous and keeps me on edge all day.

and this whole week i’ve had something come up every night. and all my body wanted was rest from the sickness, and rest it did not get. i didn’t even find time to eat dinner 3 nights this week. probably even if i had there wouldn’t have been anything to eat cause my food-buying family left and i had no wallet to buy groceries. so a tired, hungry Jena makes no one happy. but while my friends are probably writing blogs about how miserable i made their weeks, they were kind enough to put up with me and even make me burritos and omelets and take me out for beer and sushi (well they didn’t want to take me out, i just STILL didnt’ have any money to pay for it) and watch 30 rock and o brother where art thou (great movie btw)

so i survived boobs-obsessed-seizure-having-boring-long-houred client to get home and go to an elementary school crafts fair thing in my neighborhood. which also would have been great excpet that i was pooped, hadn’t eaten, got lost on my way there and I DO CRAFTS ALL DAY EVERYDAY FOR WORK AND I AM SO OVER IT. ok, it wasn’t that bad but i had no energy to entertain kids. i was trying to help this kid make a card and he just fiddled around, looked at me and said, “I’m bored” and i just stared right back and was like “fine.” so i guess that kids mom doesn’t get a crappily made christmas card. see if i care.

ok, i realize doing crafts is not something i should be getting this upset about. but it was like i went to work for another 3 hours (after a 9 hour day mind you). and i had gone a week without any money (i had to borrow money from my neighbors to get toilet paper for crying out loud. come on Calla Maria and David! what was that about?! couldn’t even leave me some tissue to wipe myself?!) and the not having an id thing gave me an existential crisis one night when i was walking home thinking, “i don’t have an identity right now. i’m nobody. i don’t exist! no one cares! who am i?!” and maybe, just maybe there was a very slight possibility that I was p.m.s.ing (ok, actually the #1 reason everything managed to upset me).

but now that i (somehow, miraculously) made it through the week and the bar and 2 parties after work friday, i believe things are starting to turn around. though i still have no money (it’s been a week and half now and if there ever was a chance of me getting anyone anything for christmas that’s long gone, sorry). and though i started my period (tmi?) maybe all i needed was the house to myself to clean, cook and ya know, sit, breathe, relax. that’s what the holidays are supposed to be about right? reflection instead of rush? ah yes. now i can remember some good stories from work.

me and Brian had a great outing Friday going downtown to a cool store that sells old books and magazines, 2nd Avenue Records (which is incredible) walking down to Saturday Market along the River and hitting up the food carts for lunch. On the bus back to work 2 of my clients started kind of getting into an arguememnt. about me. Yes, I was standing right there. But it was so great, i wish i had recorded it. Kristin, who is choc-full of compliments was saying, “Jena, you’re cute. You’re smart, funny. You have a great smile.” And she was asking Sam (the turrets Cuss-a-holic) if he agreed. He replied, “Ew. She’s ugly! She’s Kevin Garnett’s ex-girlfriend. She should go suck an animal.”

and i got this sweet note from Ben who got someone to write a letter for him inviting me to his group home to eat dinner with sometime. and Heather, who is really excited about moving into her new home secretely inviting me to her Open House party and wanting to sit me down and tell me all about it.

so it hasn’t ALL been miserable. and hey, if this week was the worst, that means next week can’t be as bad right? i never really appreciated that month break i got off when i was in school. being able to do nothing with my family. sound heavenly. now if i can only get some kind of i.d., get on a plane and make it through that middle-of-the-night plane flight back to Orlando the night before Christmas Eve…

yesterday, today, tomorrow.

let me just tell you that the clients i work with are full of surprises. well, people in general will surprise you, and this particular group is certaintly no different. just perhaps more unexpected. which, i suppose, happens whenever we stereotype or limit people in our own ideas and assumptions about them. which can happen more often than you’d like to admit when you’re dealing with a minority group. but, anywho, yes. surprising.

a couple days ago Steve (a co-worker) was telling me how Jana, who doesn’t talk at all and barely responds to her name when you call her, kind of amazed him. she was up at the front desk where some of our clients are supposed to sign their names in a book for some reason i don’t know. another client, Kim was supposed to sign her name and I guess forgot and kept going on her way. Steve was trying to track her down when Jana snapped up the book, flipped it to Kim’s page and pointed at it and motioned for her to sign it. I mean, this girl doesn’t even respond to her own name sometimes and here she is flipping to the exact page of Kim’s name (i could almost guarantee you she cannot read) like it was her job.

and then yesterday. a surprise that was not quite so joyous but was still  an amazing feat on Craig’s part, was his WANDERING OFF FROM WORK, GETTING ON THE BUS ALL THE WAY DOWNTOWN TO THE GREYHOUND STATION WHERE THE POLICE FOUND HIM 3 HOURS LATER. yeah. definitely a surprise. because Craig has no history at all of wandering off. he only gets off the bus when we tell him to. he doesn’t really communicate all that much either (i wrote a blog awhile ago about how one day he talked my ear off and that was really wild) but there he goes somehow hoping on the bus, walking down to the Greyhound Station hoping to get a ticket to where? seattle or something? beats the heck outta me. I don’t even know if i could have done that. we tried to ask him like, what the heck Craig? and he’s just all, “Bah-dah-bah-dah-bus pass!” and how cool it was to ride in a police car or something unintelligible that had to do with sirens and police. not only were we all amazed that he had simply wandered off, he knew where he was going and it was out. of. here. thinking about it makes me give a nervous chuckle.

today one of the clients I’ve gotten closer to recently (and closer in more ways than one, I get to do her bathroom procedure everyday now since there’s not a ton of female staff) is a pretty dramatic and emotional little lady, but I think honest and real too. she usually is upset about something or has at least 5 things to complain about and that’s just how it is. you get used to it. but this morning she came in as i was needing to hear “All I need” by Radiohead and said she was extra upset this morning. so much so that she had been crying. I obviously ask her what’s going on and she tells me she feels depressed. She’s recently been really frustrated with her group home and feels like the staff is always tellig her what to do and when to do it. she’s craves independence. and because of her dissatisfaction with her current home she’s going to be moving to a new home like in a month or so. but she still wasn’t happy. and i began to realize the root issue. she wasn’t really upset at this home or that home or this place or that staff. while she feels like she wants to run away and that would solve all her problems, she really wants to run away from being dependent on people. and the simple reality is that she can’t. she has cerebral palsey. she can never be independent. i began to state this revelation i had to her and she began to cry. and tell me how her dad had abused her. that is wasn’t fair. and if there is one thing that I have learned this year, probably the biggest lesson i will ever learn is that life is not fair. the rain falls on the righteous and wicked. in more pagan terms, shit happens. and it sucks. there’s no denying it. I began to tell her the hard truth. she will never be independent. and it’s totally unfair. she did not deserve this. but it is. and she must face the truth of reality and deal with it. she lamented she didn’t know how. and, geez, how do i answer that? how many times have i cried out the same thing? but i don’t know how. the first step is always the toughest. you have to let yourself be angry. be mad. it’s not right or fair and that’s true. but then we must move into forgiveness. acceptance. not that what happend was ok, just that it was. it happened. but it’s over and now I choose to be better because of it. I learn. I grow. I choose to forgive those who wronged me. I deal. I hurt and cry. And choose to love. Myself and others, my place. Over and over and over again. Because life will be unfair again. No doubt about it. But we must, must learn to be angry for a moment and forgive forever. Only then can she finally find happiness. Joy in all circumstances. There, all complaints cease. There, the past is forgotten, the present treasured, the future hoped for.

I forgot for a moment I was talking of her situation, not my own.

oh, the stories i’ll tell.

Story #1    We got this slightly newer client at work, Dean, that has really random moments of anger and aggression. I was reading his file and me and Marlon were laughing because it says something like “Dean’s Dislikes: brown men” Marlon is a tall black man and was assigned to be Dean’s one on one for the week. Dean’s aggression isn’t really set off by anything it just kind of…happens. When Dean first met Marlon he ever-so-calmly called  him a nigger and kept walking. Marlon wasn’t thrilled to be Dean’s 1 to 1 to say the least. Their first day working together they were drawing pictures and Marlon is commenting on his artwork. Out of nowhere Dean picks up the drawing throws it at Marlon and yells “F*#@ You” throws his tea on the floor and calls him a nigger again. And that was the end of Marlon working with Dean. But then last Friday Dean was working with another co-worker of mine and got mad about absolutely nothing and kicked this like 6 by 5 glass window we have. And made this huge crack in it that we had to immediately get replaced. who said work wasn’t interesting?

Story #2    There’s Janet, a sweet older lady who mostly just sits and stares and often smiles. and she has the most incredible laugh you’ve ever heard. she doesn’t say hardly anything at all, and then out of nowhere she’ll have this abundance of pure joy. her eyes light up, she grins and kind of shakes and laughs, “eeehehehehe!” It’s always completely unexpected and you can’t help but smile. Her job at Full Life is to wipe down light switches and she goes up to all my male co-workers, grabs their arm and says, “You’re snuggy.” Cutest. thing. ever.

Story #3      Tim. Who we call Timmy. Cute little guy who picks on you. He’s like 30 something but got stuck in 6th grade when boys would come up behind you and poke you in the ribs. and it scares the crap out of me and tickles me every single time. i try not to give a reaction, but he has found like the perfect spot. and when he pokes you in the ribs he goes “NEEE!” He’s pretty non-verbal but he can say like coffee, tea, yeah, fart head and fat boy. When I pick on him he always wins the battle by calling saying, “FAT BOY!” which is funny because i am neither of those things.

Story #4       Thursday and Friday of this week me and a few of my co-workers did OIS (Oregon Intervention Systems) training and certification. It’s basically learning how to do the Vulcan Death Grip. Ok, not really, but if ever my hair is pulled, i’m bitten, scratched, punched, kicked, pinched, choked or whatever I will totally know how to handle it. supposedly. It really was about learning how to deal with behaviors before they escalate to that point. Anyway, we were in this training for like EVER and on Thursday was the big Civil War game between University of Oregon and Oregon State. Whoever won was going to the Rose Bowl (the U of O Ducks won btw). One of my (favorite) clients, Mike D or Monkey Mike as we like to call him (he’s obsessed with Monkeys, beats me) likes to lots of stenciling. He mostly stencils his full name and monkeys all day long. But today, since he’s an Oregon State Beaver’s fan decided to stencil Go Beavers non-stop. So me and my co-workers were all sitting in this room that we’d been trapped in for like 6 hours and there’s a glass window where we can see the rest of the space, our main space where all our clients hang out and do activities like kicking windows or stenciling. I’m sure we were talking about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs or something (have you ever noticed that no matter what you talk about, that stupid pyramid can be thrown in and somehow be relevant?) and we look over at the window and there is mike with a piece of cardboard he’s holding up to the window that he had stenciled “Go Beaves” on it. He accidentally left out the R and it was the cutest, funniest thing. Maybe you had to be there.

Story #5     I am now the go-to person now for Suzy who is the punk-rock  50 year old diva in the wheelchair who likes to change her clothes every time she goes to the bathroom. All my female clients apparently love to have me in the bathroom with them (I do the bathroom procedure every day for another one of our clients). Tons of fun. And I just need to state here that Suzy didn’t pee in her pants this entire week and I am just so proud.

Story #6    This one isn’t about a client. It’s about 2 people I have recently gotten to know a bit better. We spent a lot of time together over the Thanksgiving weekend and I really started enjoying and appreciating their company. I guess I didn’t really expect these 2 to become my  friends. It’s probable because I’ve never really gotten to know people like them before. But I’m really glad I have now. They are both so unique and funny and i’m really enjoying the experience of them. Vera and Quinn. Vera cracks me up most of the time. The honesty of 2 year olds is phenomenal. I guess she got off the breast a little too early cause she’s always pretending to breast feed. she wanted to pretend the other day when Calla Maria told her that David could breast feed her. and she said, “Papa doesn’t have breasts.” She came over to hang out with me and she said, “you have a breast! right there!” and she poked it. I was like, “yes, indeed I do, I have 2 in fact, but mine don’t have milk.” She’s really smart for a 2 year old. I love her creativity. She has this baby doll that she named Way Tiny because, obviously the baby doll is really small. I like to think of the baby doll as like our adopted Chinese baby, you know like Weh Ti-nee or something. We had a special moment together whenever she was grumpy and upset from waking up from her nap. She was crying and just wanted to be held so I offered to cuddle with her. She willingly came over and let me wrap my arms around her and comfort her. And it was just kind of sweet and trusting of her.

Story #7      and Quinn. His first birthday is in about a week or so and it’s so fascinating to see how fast babies are growing. he could barely crawl when I first moved here and now he’s already walking and saying his first few words. He has the cutest, biggest eyes and is obsessed with my room (mostly my valuables, the computer and cell phone). Calla Maria and David have been joking about how he has a crush on me or something because he loves me to hold him. I try to tell him I just want to be friends and he’s just a little too young for me but he just looks up at me with those eyes, hold out his arms and (i’m pretty sure) says “up” and i just can’t resist dangit. these kids are pulling on my hearstrings and I can’t help it. I like having them around and it makes life interesting. I’m learning a lot from this family and feel really blessed to live with them. We have fun, joke a lot, discuss a lot, eat sweets, watch Arrested Development and just simply enjoy living together. Their blog is really cute too, take a visit!

the butterflies.

I do believe this is the first year of my ENTIRE life where I have not watched the Iron Bowl. i’m not sure what that says about me. Maybe it says more about the football obsessive family I was raised in. But nevertheless, it’s hard to say I’m really missing it. It’s an incredibly beautiful day in Portland. Bright and sunny; a cool, crisp perfect Fall day. Sitting in Powell’s (the biggest independent bookstore in the U.S.) coffeshop sipping a Stumptown Coffee latte made with Rice milk while Calla Maria is studying her midwifery stuff and there’s a fiddle player playing right outside the store where the delightful scent of coffe and books is combined to please your nose while unique art is displayed to please the eye. Sometimes it’s silly how I can still be in so much amazement and wonder of this new city i’ve lived in for 3 months now. It’s like I have a crush.

So many little things make me smile. You know, like when you first start getting to know someone you’re interested in and it’s crazy how many things about them you just really like. The faces they make, the jokes they tell, their mannerisms, their passions. You fall in love with the tiniest things that are constantly new to you as you’re getting to know them. As weird as it sounds I feel that way about Portland. Like it was made just to make me smile more. Like it knew what I wanted without me even asking. The little things. The green tea chai’s I always desired but could never find in Auburn. The authentic Mexican food that ISN’T smothered in grease and cheese. The pumpkin spice latte I never thought could be better than Starbucks. The roommates with great taste in music, the friends who make fun of my green been casserole calling the crunchies on top “corn flakes”, the only place you will ever see hipsters with babies or straight men carrying purses. the city where  Trader Joe’s is more convenient than Wal-Mart.

yes, i’m beginning to fall in love with this place.

but i’m still watching the Auburn game on espn GameCast. Go Tigers!

and now for…the criticisms.

Many of you may believe Portland is basically the new Eden (ok i realize you probably don’t, but you obviously know i do). And usually in no way would I try to convince you of anything other than the paradise you (or mostly I) assume it is.  But now that I’ve lived here for 3 months (OMG IT’S BEEN 3 WHOLE MONTHS!!?!) a bit of reality has set in. Now, i’m not trying to say i’m like SO LOCAL or anything (even though i can’t tell you how many people i’ve met who have moved out here about the same time as me; this city is freaking FULL of transplants) i’m just saying i’ve noticed a few things about the “West Side”. And I won’t lie to you, I’m not too crazy about some things.

For instance, people try way too hard out here. I mean seriously. Get over yourself. Loosen up those girl jeans, buy something OTHER than American Spirits and please order something besides PBR you hipsters you. Don’t act like your “into” diversity when this is like the whitest city in the states. try NOT to go to a concert for just one week. you don’t have to be a vegetarian. it’s ok. everyone likes chicken. it won’t kill you. and please stop trying to be Buddhist. i don’t know who decided to make buddhism a fad but that’s just weird. people out here are just so lost and desperately searching for something, anything it seems that will keep them occupied with being something other than i don’t know, themselves?

Portland is just really snobby about their beer. I mean, I walked into a grocery store and the huge sentence over the beer section said this, “In a real city microbrews and brewed in lots of places.” Are you kidding me? What does that even mean? Ok, we got beer. A lot of it. And it’s pretty good. But a “real” city? come on.

ONLY in portland can you go to one of your co-workers shows every week. at least. and sometimes, they’re just not all that talented. i know everyone can express themselves through music, but just because it’s portland, does NOT mean you should. and granted, some of them are really great. and it’s cool to know people in bands and whatnot. as long as there’s this mutual agreement that we both know this isn’t gonna turn into a career or anything and i’m not going to be your groupie cause your obviously never going to make it big but i’ll still support you. i guess i can still appreciate your “expression”.  me and Marlon were going to see a movie one night and put a sign up at work inviting all of our co-workers to our “show” cause like 5 other co-workers had done the same thing all that same week and we were sick of it and decided to take out our jealousy of not being musically talented by making fun of them. i’m not sure they got the joke.

ok dudes. please for the love of all things sacred. i know you all want to wear super ugly sweaters and think it’s funny/cool/cute/(wtf?) but there are strict rules in this arena that you must follow. 1. Sweaters that make you look like an old man are only ok if you have a beard. 2. Knit sweaters are NEVER ok. NEVER.  Especially when there’s like an image knit into it. Like a dude riding a jet ski. i don’t know why some old lady decided to knit that picture onto a sweater but it’s not funny. it’s ridiculous and hideous. i don’t care if she was your grandmother, burn it. 3. the only time images on sweaters or shirts are ok is if they’re really feminine. a few simple embroidered sunflowers says you’re sensitive and can appreciate details. that’s what you wanna go for. that’ll get you the ladies. it’s simple really, flowers not jet skiis.

i just want to take this moment to appreciate/make fun of my co-workers. cause they’re all in their early 30’s and they were totally cool in the 90’s and i just really think that’s hilarious. i constantly make fun of them because they actually partied (and graduated) in 1999. and they have those classic 90’s tribal tatooes and a green warty half moon right above their butt crack that looks like a weird tail when you bend over. and because they’re so West Coast they were (and and definitely still are) Seattle Grunge Kids. I’m pretty sure they would give their souls to Kurt Cobain. While I tease them like a younger sibling and teach them slang like “chunkin’ a deuce” that leaves them bewildered and asking “is it chucking or chuNking? and what’s a deuce?” they make fun of me when i know all the words to a 50 cent song and can’t recognize a single Nirvana or Everclear tune.

Speaking of rap, I KNOW MORE THAN 5 PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF T.I. AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE IT. I never realized how East Coast, ATL R&B I was until now. I mean I started listing rappers to a group of friends and it was like I could had just spoken a foreign language to them. I’m pretty sure at one point a stood up and threw my hat on the ground in indignation. I’m having to make a play list of songs that I thought everyone in the world knew for these poor souls who have never heard a Kanye, Usher or Lil Wayne song ever in their lives. where do i even begin with these people?

I realized a southern thing I actually like the other day and was kind of proud of. When I thought of it I was super excited and told all my West Coast friends cause I knew they would love it. Every little thing I do they’re like, “whoa, is that like, a Southern thing?” and i’m all, “i really don’t think you should use me as your exemplar model of the south” until I realized what I used to call shopping carts when I was younger. A BUGGY! Gosh that is just so cute and no one had ever heard that and it was kind of awesome.

So while I’m talking buggies my west coast friends are saying “that’s hellacool” and i’m like huh? anything that’s REALLY something or other is hella____.  and it totally annoys me. hellatight? hellasweet? i don’t know, i just don’t like it at all. apparently my source tells me that this is a NorCal thing that for some awful reason spread up to Oregon and now it’s supposed to be normal but i can’t get over it. that and the fact that people say POP here instead of Soda. I thought pop was a midwest thing Portland, find your identity already won’t you?

And last but most definitely not least is when I was talking to a bunch of people at my church about buggies and why in the world people in the South have double names, isn’t one good enough? and we started talking about Thanksgiving traditions and pause here for dramatic effect,

i started talking about sweet potatoe casserole with the pecans and brown sugar on top AND NOT A SINGLE PERSON KNEW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? NOT ONE.

not even the kind with marshmallows. they said it sounded TOO SWEET. TOO SWEET? TOO SWEET!?!? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? and of course they hadn’t heard of green bean casserole with the delicious crunchies on top and didn’t know the difference between Dressing and dressing (like the Ranch kind). it was so terrifying. i don’t know what these people do for Thanksgiving but they’re about to have a rude (and by rude i mean totally have their minds blown when I cook a sweet potatoe casserole for them) awakening and never be able to go back to whatever meager thanksgiving meal they thought they knew before. whew, i’m glad i was able to let that frustration out. you understand. don’t you?? i’m pretty sure i’m my upsetedness I lost about as many calories as that casserole has so i for sure won’t feel bad eating it especially when i know that food is basically manna from heaven.

so there’s just a little taste of my ever-so-slight criticisms of the west coast so far. cheers.

Of overwhelming.

Overwhelming. Can be both a good and bad thing. I guess I easily feel overwhelmed. I’m not sure what that says about me, and I’m not sure I want to think about it for fear that I’ll be, well, overwhelmed. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed at the amount of incredible grocery stores in Portland. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed at HOW RAIN CAN POSSIBLY FALL STRAIGHT INTO YOUR EYEBALLS WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING DOWN. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by musicianship or a simple  truth found in a book. Or I’ll feel overwhelmed at how many books I’m trying to read at one time. I definitely feel overwhelmed when I realize how much control I DON’T have in my life and at the same time how important my decisions are. I’m definitely overwhelmed at how much hair can grow in my armpits. I am overwhelmed by thinking about how to live out the phrase “love well”. I don’t think I’d be alone in being overwhelmed when an unexpected someone tells me I’m beautiful and they thought so from our first meeting. Or even a surprise lyric in a song I’ve listened to over and over again. I feel overwhelmed when walking down the road at night and the yellow streetlights reflect the wet pavement and it looks like I’m walking on streets of gold. And as I’m walking i smell a hint of Christmas in an Evergreen tree. I’m constantly overwhelmed by the honesty and vulnerable, beautiful artwork of my clients. It can be easy to feel overwhelmed by 9-hour work days without a break. The breathtaking beauty of fall. A kiss shared in the mud under a huge dripping evergreen. A good time sharing stories and beers with co-workers. Riding the bus with strangers. Finding God in people you’d never expect to. Even being so completely content can be overwhelming. The shriek of babies and the excitement of their first steps and words. Ikea. Budgeting.

Sometimes it’s amazing to me how much one human can handle the diversity of experiences in everyday life.

another Ode to Clients.

I guess it’s because we have only, oh 90 CLIENTS in our program that I feel like there are so many beautiful different people to tell you about. like i could write a blog about each one and it would never get old. but maybe that’s just because i get to actually experience them everyday and interact with them and before i know it I find a huge grin on my face and a warmth in my heart when i walk up to work and see them standing at the door ready to come in, waving at me and simply saying “Good Morning”.

I can hardly contain my joy whenever I hear Michelle laugh. It reminds me so much of the littlest elf in A Series of Unfortunate Events. She doesn’t say much at all, but she’s very expressive. She and this client Brian just hooked up recently and are so stinking cute together. Brian is the sweetest kid; talks a lot and is obsessed with Coraline (he went to the premier and he will tell you everything about it) and Michael Jackson. He dressed up as Michael Jackson for Halloween and LOOKED JUST LIKE HIM. i’m not even kidding. and he’s gonna teach me the thriller dance one day too.

I almost died laughing the other day when Sam freaked out on Jackie. Jackie (a co-worker of mine) is like Sam’s idol. He talks about her all the time. Follows her around everywhere. It’s pretty cute. Me and Jackie were talking about girls or something (that sounds weird but i have the worst memory of all time) and Sam started being like, “Shut the Mother F*#&ing Chris Brown up.” and Jackie looks at him really seriously and (jokingly) says, “Sam. I like girls.” He shouts “What the?!?” runs out of the room immediately and yells “Jackie’s F@#%ing Gay as Hell!!” I’m convinced there will never be a time I don’t find Sam’s outbursts absolutely hysterical.

Elissa makes you wanna squeeze her cheeks and kick her butt all at the same time. She’s just a little ball of emotion. Sometimes she’ll come up and hug you and be sweet as pie and other times she’ll say, “Don’t touch me.” Her favorite phrase is “You’re Fired” and she has an irresistibly cute laugh too. She fakes cries sometimes for like a minute and right after that will poke you and giggle. For some reason a lot of our clients call her Whiskers. And it’s impossible to get her to do what you want. My co-worker has to steal her belongings from her so that’ll she’ll chase him so he can get her on the bus to go home. When that doesn’t work he has to pretend like he’s a drill sergeant and stomp after her and grumble and force her out the door. I don’t know why those strategies work, but they do. I think half the fun of working here is trying to figure out what you can do to get a reaction out of clients.

Josh can make my day with a simple look. He’s not supposed to have caffeine or much sugar and he knows this but he’ll constantly ask you if he can have green tea or coffee cake or whatever else that may be caffeinated or sugar laden comes to mind. Sometimes I’ll mess with him and say, “Sure Josh you can have 15 lollipops and a soda too!” and he gives me this sly little side grin that makes me so happy i’ve asked him to make that face and taken a picture of it on my phone. Ask me to send it to you, I totally will (and I’ll send you a picture of the day when Rob’s (co-worker) wardrobe matched Jeremy’s (client). They were both wearing purple sweaters, one with Eeyore and one with sunflowers).

Heather is kind of a priss (and by kind of i mean most definitely) but luckily i’m on her good side (at least for today). She pretty much always has something to complain about and is a super clean freak. my co-worker and I were helping her in the bathroom yesterday and he was lifting her and i’m the one who is supposed to pull her pants up and down and wipe her and i got done wiping her and stepped back like i was done. Her and Rob were just standing there and i’m like “What?” and he’s all, “um, did you forget something?” Then i realized her pants were still down. Woops. I start saying something like, “oh, you actually wanted those back on? I thought today was No Pants Day?” Heather starts cracking up and Rob is like “please don’t laugh” cause he’s still trying to hold her up while we’re all laughing and I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun with a bathroom procedure.

Last week was a record moment in the history of my work because I LOST A CLIENT. ok, not exactly ME, but still. I was on an outing with 2 of my co-workers and 8 clients to OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) and we were on our way back, arrived at Full Life and realized that Jose somehow had not made it back with us. Me and Jackie looked at each other wide-eyed before she sprinted to her car to go back to the bus stop where we hoped he still was. We had transferred on 2 buses and apparently Jose had gotten on the bus with all of us but then snuck off. I was busy figuring out how to strap on a wheelchair to the bus and making sure my butt crack wasn’t exposed to the world, so i don’t feel as guilty. We even had 2 wheelchairs that day and 6 other clients so it was kind of hectic especially on a really crowded bus. Nonetheless, we found him just sitting back at the bus stop, SMILING. like he knew he had gotten away with it and it was all just a game. he doesn’t speak at all so i’m just assuming that, but you can just tell sometimes.

There are these other precious moments (ugh I’m having weird memories of pastel cartoons of babies with big heads) when Dan freely offers to give me the cowboy bolo he HAND-MADE that just so happens to perfectly match my cowgirl shirt. And when Joe constantly tells me that I look like his mother (even though I think he says that to all the females that work there) who’s “up there” as he says. And Ben who told me today that I’m the only person he knows who wears a fanny pack and while I’m wondering if that’s a compliment or if he’s making fun of me he quickly assures me that it’s a compliment because I’m brave enough to do so. I’m not offended enough to not keep wearing it though (and plus I just got this super neon jacket from the 80s that I got at a thrift store for roughly 50 cents that totally matches it)

Tomorrow night we’re putting on an open house where our clients’ artwork will be displayed and they will be performing Charlie Brown’s Great Pumpkin and Sleepy Hollow. I’m sure I’ll be posting pictures of this grand event so stay tuned.

This day.

On a somewhat odd, but I-have-to-get-this-off-my-chest-before-blog-anything-else note, let me just tell you that there are some days (like today for example) when I want to drop-kick EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY CLIENTS BECAUSE THEY ALL DECIDED TO LOSE THEIR MINDS AT THE SAME TIME. I don’t know if it’s cause I was hungry, tired from like oh just the past 10 DAYS or dealing with relationship issues through text messaging or probably all of the above but i knew going to the Library Downtown today would be mmm, interesting. Sometimes you just get a crazy mix of clients and it’s chaos. one is gathering up 5 different books on 7 different languages and loudly interrupting the Librarian to ask where are the Dr. Seuss books written in Chinese? who is graciously helping another client with his 34 questions about who-knows-what and music encyclopedias? while we are trying despratly to leave and let our guys check out the 10 books they can’t carry and another client who thinks he’s a grandpa and was born in the 1930s is telling me, “look it’s fine. don’t worry. and starts patting me on the head calling me puppy while a new client is telling me about her cousins and nephews who live in seattle and all their names that start with M while that one client with a sexual past is asking another client whether or not he has a nice body and i’m trying to tell him that’s inappropriate while he’s telling me i’m a very pretty lady and the other client is calling him numbnuts before they start wrestling at the bus stop. sometimes i don’t know whether to laugh hysterically or punch them in the face. I mostly just sigh a lot.

Speaking of beating people up…

Me and some of my neighbor/church/friends (i really should get a better name for these folks) sat around and discussed if there was one living musician you could beat up (assuming that you could beat them up), who would it be? Taylor Swift, Justin Timberlake, Moby and Jimmy Page were mentioned as well as my pick, John Mayer. That guy is such a prick and a good musician and i hate his songs cause they’re cheesy but then when i hear them they’re kind of catchy but then i don’t want to admit it and he creates such turmoil in me that i can’t stand him and i don’t know if it’s cause i loath him or i kinda like him. but anyway when i mentioned this to calla maria she almost shed tears of joy and hugged me for she feels the same hatred for john mayer and she claimed we must be soul mates. another night with my neighbor/church/friends (NCF’s? no?) we all shared our beer-piphanies. You know the moment when you have finally “acquired” the taste for beer and drink that one brew and actually enjoy it. what was that first beer-piphany? I think for me it was going to Boulder and actually tasting the micro-brewed beers at Mountain Sun. (But if I didn’t want to look like a cool beer conisseur I might say Miller Lime. i can’t believe i just admitted that publicly)

We also discussed this comment about transplants like myself, which really made me think,
“At recent social gathering, a recent New York transplant said to me “I bet you never saw a person with dreadlocks in Portland ten years ago”. I wish I had thought to reply “Well yes, we had dreadlocks and microbrew and bikes and strip clubs, but we were sorely lacking in smug transplants from the east coast who think the whole town started three years ago when they happened to move here.” My issue with the local bike culture is that it seems to be composed almost exclusively of people who took the bumpersticker mantra of “Think Globally, Act Locally” and twisted it into “Think Globally, Abandon your s*%thole hometown, move somewhere where they actually did act locally 10, 20, 30 or 40 years ago to try and build a better community, and then act like you are smarter and more creative than all the local rubes you are replacing.”
At some level this is very true. I wasn’t satisfied with the lifestyle of the south so I just up and moved instead of trying a bit harder to stay and stand-out by how I chose to live. There were so many good, local things about Alabama that were just starting to be tapped in to. While I did a decent job, I definitely could have done more to build a better community where I was. But instead I just moved to where I knew it would be easier. The good thing about moving out here though is that now I have ideas and tools for how to live the lifestyle I want even if the local culture around me doesn’t think the same. That is, if I ever I wanted to move back. But let this be an encouragement for those of you that are there. It can be such simple things like not buying paper products, reusing containers, letting your clothes air-dry instead of running the dryer, not flushing unless necessary, storing up for the winter by buying summer farmer’s market foods, biking/busing/car-pooling, etc.  Just do what you can right where you are.  In the words of my friend, “Love well and live well, and don’t let the bastards grind you down.”

On the subject of local things I have learned some more facts. I made up some “You know you’re in Portland when…” statements.

You know you’re in Portland when there are more R.E.I.’s than Wal-Marts.

You know you’re in Portland when the number of bikes in your garage is more than the number of people in your house and twice the number of cars in your driveway.

You know you’re in Portland when you buy your first Goose Down Jacket. (which I just did thank you very much and I love it) And you buy rainboots instead of snowshoes for the winter.

You know you’re in Portland when you’ve got a steaming cart pizza in one hand, and a beer and cigar in the other and your “church” is there and all is right in the world and afterwards you go to your co-workers show who plays really weird music at a tiny bar on a Monday night.

A series of interesting (clientele) events

how has it been 10 days since my last post!?!

Who ousted October and invited November in so early?!?

Please blame Time for how it makes my life flashes before my eyes and doesn’t give me time to blog. It’s not my fault, it’s the shorter days with less beloved sunlight. And perhaps the job that takes up 12 hours of my day. You should give Time a good talking to too. Maybe if we joined forces it would freaking SLOW DOWN.

But let’s move on (quickly of course) to the dear client stories of the past week.

I was asking clients what they thought I should be for Halloween. 2 different clients at different time suggested I be Wonder Woman. I guess they think mighty highly of me? But that was better than what Monkey Mike said. (Oh and I call him Monkey Mike because he’s obsessed with monkeys. He carries 2 around with him at all times and is always drawing pictures of them) I was sitting and having a chat with Monkey Mike and Joe and prodding Joe as to why in the world he is growing his hair out into a mullet. on purpose. Was he dressing up as Joe Dirt for Halloween? He told me he was not, but just insisted that his mullet will be business in the front and a party in the back. I ask Monkey Mike what he’s going to be for Halloween. He tells me, “you”. as I start to chuckle he says, “with big boobs”. and while i’m debating whether this is an inappropriate comment, or a compliment, or criticism, me and my co-worker are trying not to laugh too hard.

That week I also got to be one on one with Ben. He went to jail for something (I think impersonating a police officer?) and now has to be watched at all times. and he’s this super huge dude. if he ever tried to do anything he could just like sit on me and go put on a police badge or whatever it is i’m supposed to keep him from doing. the funniest thing to me about Ben is that he’s like stuck in Y2K when it comes to music. Every time he puts on his music I’m taken back to the 8th grade with East Coast R&B and rap. i guess that’s the music he listened to before he went to prison and hasn’t bothered to turn on a radio station since.

Oh and I hadn’t worked with Harry in awhile (you know the grumpy old guy that makes me cry) and I simply took him for a walk the other day and he said the nicest thing EVER. i’m just whistling and wheeling him along and out of nowhere he says, “I like you.” and I’m thinking, “ok, i know he mumbles a lot, did he really just say that??” so i ask him to repeat himself for fear that i am totally losing my mind and he says it again. “I like you.” I can think of nothing else to reply but, “Why?” And of course he says “I don’t know”. But I feel I’ve got something here so I say, “yeah Harry, it’s been awhile since we’ve worked together. i kinda miss you.” and THEN he says, “yeah. I miss you too.” can you believe that?

Friday night we had our Halloween Dance at work and it was really SO much fun. That day we all dressed up (if you haven’t seen the pictures please click here) and danced for a good 2 hours straight. We had a pretty good haunted house set up, dance competition, costume competition and games. Me and Marlon were like “seriously? i think we are having more fun than the clients!” Some days I really can’t believe this is the job I stumbled into. It gives me so much joy being part of things like this.

Especially when Craig (the client whose pants are almost always AT LEAST 5 sizes too big for him) decided that he would start saying more than one word to me. He will occasionally mumble-grunt a yes or no to us but I don’t know if there was some crazy Halloween Spririt in the air that just got him talking. To my utter surprise he starts jabbering in barely-intelligible language about how his birthday is coming up and he’s turning 45 and he watches all sorts of sports on the weekends. i’m just trying not to start wide-eyed and mouth gaping at him and try to ask him as many questions as i can before he falls back into silence again. I felt like I was on the show Pushing Daisies (shout out to those of you who have actually seen this show!) It was so weird. We had like a good 5 minute convo. I tried to ask him questions today related to what he was talking about that day but I got the usual non-responsiveness. i’m still in awe though. it was so exciting to get to hear him talk for even that little bit.

the plural form of squash is “squeesh” in case you were wondering.

i went on an outing to the driving range a couple days ago. we took one of my favorite clients, Sam (the gentle giant that swears like a sailor with his ship wrecked) and as he spastically took a swing would say, “F!@*  you like a cowboy!” right as he hit the ball. My co-worker made a good point that probably only at the driving range are there people who curse more than Sam and its socially acceptable. We also took Matt who, everytime he hit the ball (which would go all of 10 feet), would give a little fist pump and say, “homerun.” not quite the right sport, but hey.

On a somewhat warmer and sunnier 65 degree day our client, Sean came dressed up in full ski gear. I wish I had a picture to post right here. It was bright TURQUOISE. like hello 1988, good to see you again. with purple collar and all. and he had on snow shoes, ski hat, gloves, carebiner, the works people. and the best part isn’t even that. Sean is basically really pissed all the time. He always can find something to complain about. He has a “i don’t give a shit” kind of attitude and to see him in a neon ski suit in a really not-that-cold kind of day was hilarious. But then he stomps inside and gives me a stern look with hands on hips and says, “I shouldn’t have worn this.” He apparently wore nothing under that, so was stuck in it all day. highlight of my week.

we started podcasting our radio shows too if you wanna take a listen. (the wednesday one is pretty darn good)

also very important things i recently discovered that you absolutely must know about portland:

wearing fanny packs here is NORMAL and yes i wear one every day.

thursday nights are the new friday nights. seriously all the partying happens on thursday nights. don’t know why, i just comply.

THAI FOOD. is what it’s all about. there is so much thai food and it will blow your taste buds away. don’t believe me? pineapple fried rice served in a pinapple half, pad see eaw with a brown sauce that will rock your world and need I say PUMPKIN CURRY!?

there are tons of murals on the sides of buildings. kinda awesome. really bright colors. i’ve been working on putting together a scavenger hunt for anyone who’d care to visit me and some random murals are definitely on the list. also, there is a giant purple inflatable octopus downtown. don’t ask me, it’s portland dude.

the carts. if you’ve ever been to chicago, you know that the food carts are where the good stuff’s at. chicago style hot dog? over.  portland is picking up that trend and there are little cart strips downtown that have the best indian food, thai food, himalayan food, sausage, pizza, vegan/veggie whatever, taquerias, crepes, etc. it’s cheap and probably some of the best food in town. oh, and today i passed by a cart/van that was selling tons of cigarettes and tobacco stuff. some things i see and just shake my head; only portland.

people here are really obsessed with johnny cash…?

have i mentioned there’s no sales tax? probably, but i still just can’t get over how fantastic that is.

so now you’re pretty much a local. you are schooled in Stumptown (portland’s nickname that i’m not sure i understand). now you just need to come out and visit me. but bring your raingear unless you want cold, pruny toes all day long like me. i’m buying rainboots freaking tomorrow.