taking back mondays

Waking up this morning was brutal.

I hit the snooze button for at least a half an hour, then anxiously peered outside, hoping to see a roaring blizzard decimating Jamestown and making the streets impassable. The few snowflakes that were lightly drifting past my window instantaneously crushed my dreams and snapped me back to reality.

It was Monday, and I unfortunately needed to act my age, give up the hope of a Snow Day, and get my act together. Fast.

I'm generally not the type of person who wastes all Sunday dreading the impending Monday and then spends all Monday complaining about what day it is. [Way too many of those people exist..hopefully not you?] I typically don't have much patience for whining, mainly because as a soulless, cold-hearted pragmatist, I know that whining gets you nowhere in the end.

However, Mondays are far from being my favorite day of the week. With that in mind, I've been curious as to how I can boost Mondays up a bit - make them a little more interesting, a little more fun, a little less depressing. After all, it's not like Mondays are going away anytime soon.

Here are a few ways [from simple and practical, to rather complex and entirely impractical] that I decided Mondays can be improved:

• Movie night Mondays

There's nothing like mindless entertainment to make Americans happy. If I liked Monday Night Football, that void would be filled already. However, not only do football games make me fall asleep [something about the background noise from the game added to the looong breaks in action between plays knocks me out everytime], but the only team I feel any loyalty to is the Bills. Watching them is usually painful, so I avoid it whenever possible.

•  Mandatory half-day Mondays

Congress clearly needs to pass a law that forbids anyone from working more than half a day on Mondays. In reality, this law's a no-brainer: nobody - Democrat, Republican, or whatever else you want to call yourself - likes Mondays. It's the one issue in this country we can all agree upon. This law has the potential to unify the country and usher in a golden era of bipartisan compromise. I really don't understand why Congress hasn't jumped all over this yet.

•  Map out your next vacation Mondays

Reminding yourself at the beginning of each week of your impending vacations/adventures can't be a bad thing, especially if you're the type that chokes under routines and schedules. I have kind of made it a habit to plan out some ridiculous, amazing trips...most of which I fully intend to see through. The best and brightest of these plans is the infamous Pirate ship plan that Angela and I hatched during junior year at Allegheny.

We had both just returned from a semester away from Meadville - Angela in England, me in DC and the Balkans - and we were suffering from a combination of cabin fever, way-too-much-work syndrome, and I'm-bored-in-a-small-town syndrome. That deadly combination of illnesses may have affected our sanity a few times that semester. However, the end result of all our crazy/brilliant scheming was beautiful - we decided that our only life goal was to commandeer a pirate ship, [obviously] becoming co-captains of the ship, and sailing the high seas until we felt like settling down somewhere. Which would be never.

That thought alone has made this cold, gray Monday a whole lot brighter.

surviving winter in western new york

Over the last few days, it's become apparent that winter has officially checked in. The snow won't stop falling, my car has basically become a mobile ice box [whose windows will be frozen shut until at least April], Christmas decorations have taken over the apartment, and Jamestown had its annual Christmas Parade this weekend.

That's right. For those of you who weren't aware, Jamestown, NY has its very own Chrismas Parade. I was talked into going last year, and frankly, I was curious to see what on earth was going to be paraded through the streets of Jamestown. After a performance outside City Hall by the 10,000 Maniacs, one of the few claims-to-fame held by this small city, I was startled to hear a loud whirring noise coming from the sky above me. I glanced up, horrified as a low-flying helicopter swooped over the crowd gathered for the parade. The scene in front of me instantly turned to chaos as everyone grabbed onto their hats and anything else that could be blown away by the gale force winds sweeping through the streets in the helicopter's wake. As it flew off into the distance, we all breathed a sigh of relief and talked incredulously about what a miscalculated decision it was to have a helicopter practically divebomb the crowd. Aaand then it came back to do another flyby. Apparently the helicopter was there to add something (I'm not sure what) to the parade's atmosphere.

Merry Christmas Jamestown.

Needless to say, I didn't end up at this year's parade. I wasn't feeling the greatest [sidenote: another sign that winter is here - everyone's getting the flu], and I didn't mind having an excuse to miss standing outside in the cold for 2 hours as helicopters wreaked havoc on downtown Jamestown.

Instead I got to stay home and watch a movie. This leads to my first piece of advice on how to survive winter in western NY: have a large cache of movies onhand at all times. You never know when you're going to be snowed in or catch a flu/cold/some kind of sickness that knocks you off your feet. Holiday-themed movies are only good for another three weeks from today, so get started on them if you haven't already! There's a lot of great ones: Elf, Home Alone [1 and 2 only, 3 is pretty wretched], White Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, A Muppet Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life, or my family's personal favorite....Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation [cause we're classy like that].

Advice #2 on how to survive winter conveniently relates to something we all do while watching movies: eating. Have large amounts of food stocked up in your kitchen. Just because humans are supposedly more civilized than other creatures and can [in theory] drive to a grocery store at any time to get more food, it's a good idea to follow the example set by squirrels and other small, hoarding animals to have piles of food stacked up in your cupboards. Not only do storms leave us stuck in our homes for days at a time, but honestly, people get lazy in the winter. Most of our social activity during the months when an arctic freeze has settled over this area revolves around excessive eating and drinking with friends. Then, in March, as we suddenly recollect that it will be warm again one day, we all start gravitating towards the gym to undo the damage we've done over the past four months.

My third piece of advice on how to survive winter directly contradicts what I just said. Join a gym! Just because it's basically expected that western New Yorkers will pile on layers of heavy clothing to hide the damage that too much eggnog [gross] and cookies have done to their bodies, it doesn't have to end that way. If you hate running...as most people admit to when they're being honest...take a class or something. Yoga, zumba, kickboxing - the Y even has something called Bootcamp. It sounds dreadfully painful, but at least it's more interesting than running.

My last piece of advice, which is probably impractical for most people - take trips down south to give yourself breaks from the Arctic Tundra that settles over the area from December through April. Conveniently, my parents live in South Carolina, in a town with the sickeningly sweet name of Summerville. [The anti-Jamestown? Possibly.] I've already made it down to Summerville once last month, and I'll be back in a couple weeks over Christmas. Stepping out of the airport down there always feels surreal, in a good sort of way. The humid, warm air and the nearly constant presence of sunlight surprises me and makes me re-evaluate the pros and cons of life as a beach bum. That thought in turn leads me to imagine how rapidly my sanity would digress if I actually did that. I'm not exactly a Southern girl, and there's this crazy stubborn streak in me that makes me stick up for New York despite its painfully long winters [and disgraceful state government...but that's a topic I really don't want to touch].

For better or for worse [mostly for better, I've gotta say], New York's home right now. After a few months of snow and ice, I may become treacherous and start dreaming of places where the sun shines and I would see colors other than white, grey, and black outside my window, but for now, I'm content peering outside at streets covered with snow as more flakes spiral quietly down from the night sky.

family matters

In less than two days, my family - parents, sister, brother, and I - will all be together for the first time in nearly a year.

I absolutely cannot wait...I'm so excited for this...but at the same moment, I involuntarily twitch a little. Maybe it's not exactly a visible twitch (aaand maybe it is, you'll never know), but there's an underlying anxiety that accompanies my excitement.

I feel like I need to start this off right by explaining I'm ridiculously stoked for this mini-reunion. Over the last few weeks, I've texted and talked with my family about what we're going to do [Priority #1: HARRY POTTER!..finally. As in, I fly into Charleston at 7 pm Wednesday and we're going to see it that night. Priority #2: Eat as much of my mom's angel food cake as I can possibly fit in my stomach.]

However, beyond the fact I'm obviously looking forward to seeing my family, it's become pretty clear to me over the years that being around family can bring out the best and the worst in me. I [and most other people, I think] rely on the idea that because our family loves us unconditionally - at least in theory - we're free to be ourselves without holding anything back.

I don't know about you, but that doesn't always end well for me. It can get messy once in awhile.

Sometimes, I take it a bit too far. I seem to think I can get away with acting like a straight-up tool, but that in the end, it's ok, because my family will always love me..right? When I'm around my family, I act more impatient, argumentative, even demanding, because I don't feel the need to earn their love as much as when I'm around other people.

The way my family knows and understands me is so different than how anybody else could, even my best friends. [There are so many classic moments that just my family was there for. Such as, when I was learning to ride my bike as a little kid, and kept running into trees because I couldn't see a flipping thing. Good times.]

I think the difference stems from how the relationships begin: family is something most people are gifted with at birth. It's a type of relationship I take for granted and assume will always endure. Friendships are something you have to pursue, earn, and invest in. You're more conscious of how you act and how you present yourselves to people how aren't obligated to like you. Also, you're aware that friendships are likely to end fast if you start acting like a tool. Act like a jerk to your friends, you run the risk of losing them. Act like a jerk to your family, and (though it obviously won't be a pretty situation) at the end of the day, you're still unalterably connected.

Sooo this Thanksgiving, I'm going to try and treat my family more like friends. [Next step: treat friends like family??..or not. At least not when it comes to acting like a tool more frequently around them.] Luckily, my brother's bringing his girlfriend to South Carolina with him so we can finally meet her! Consequently, we should all be better behaved than normal. Hopefully.

On second thought, I'm already thinking of a few FANTASTIC embarrassing stories about Little Kevin that would make for an excellent dinner conversation.....

lost causes

So I know the title implies that this blog is going to suck all the happiness out of your life, but I swear that's not what I'm aiming for. I only chose to write about lost causes tonight because this theme repeatedly broke into my day.

When it comes to lost causes, desperate circumstances, tragic situations, or sad stories, I honestly feel like I am numb towards them in a way. Having studied history in college, I have read literally thousands upon thousands of pages in books that spell out in stark detail the most terrible things that humans have done to each other. I've visited the sites of mass graves in the former Yugoslavia and spoke with people who survived the war in the 90s and experienced heart-shattering things. When it comes to depressing situations or stories where people are victimized or oppressed, there isn't much that can shock me anymore.

During my normal workday, I tend to hear about a lot of sad and frustrating situations. [I feel like I need to mention that they're not all tragic...some can be downright entertaining. Like the woman who called and asked me if she could do a citizen's arrest on her neighbors because they were being too loud. I almost said yes just to see what would happen..] For any of you who don't know, I work at a non-profit law firm that helps people at or near the poverty line with certain civil legal issues. Most of our work involves landlord/tenant disputes, foreclosures, bankruptcies, divorces, issues with social services, etc. My job is to speak with potential clients, get the facts of the situation, and see if we can take their case.

Basically, they end up telling me all the gritty details of their depressing circumstances and ask for our help. I swear, I am going to petition my boss to change my job title to Therapist. [That's at LEAST more accurate than Paralegal, which makes it sound like I know a thing or two about the law. Which I don't.] One woman kept me on the phone for a half an hour the other day, and I'm pretty sure she just paraphrased the same story four different ways and kept repeating it to me. I could literally feel my will to live slipping away as the conversation dragged on and on.

The worst part is, after hearing their story, I'm the one who has to tell them if we can help them or not. If we can't, I try to refer them on to another organization, but we all know how effective referrals are. They end up being referred to every agency and nonprofit under the sun, and in the end get referred back to us, more likely than not. And the wretched cycle begins again.

Some of the people who call in are quite familiar to the office. [They're referred to as Frequent Fliers. They really should form some kind of club.] It's frustrating when they've had 8 or 10 cases already opened with us in the past. These aren't bad people, they're simply the marginalized, the ignored, the lost causes of society. Their lack of education and basic life skills puts them at an incredible disadvantage in every stage of life they're in. The cycle of poverty isn't easy to break or rise above, and anyone who follows the mantra "well why don't they just pull themselves up by their bootstraps like every other American" has clearly never had to face a serious struggle by themselves.

My point in reflecting on all these depressing scenarios is to lead up to a theory on how to deal with lost causes, one that's certainly not original or new to me, but one that I'm trying to make my own. This theory came to me most recently through a letter I received today from the pastor of the boy I sponsor [through Compassion International] in India. The letter talks about the crazy/huge obstacles and struggles faced by this boy's community [yet another kind of lost cause] in rural India and how Compassion sponserships have already begun to make a difference in the area. It concludes by thanking me and saying: "Let us hold each other and care for one another with kind hands" so God can keep transforming the world.

That sentence hit me so hard. No one talks like that these days - at least not ordinary people and definitely not on a regular basis. That idea of 'holding and caring for each other with kind hands' is so striking, different, and so counter-cultural. Compassion, empathy, and kindness aren't nearly as sexy as wealth, beauty, youth, and celebrity to a society that is generally obsessed with the latter things. Standing up for and taking care of the oppressed, the marginalized, and the victimized is not ever going to be as profitable as rubbing shoulders with [and sucking up to] the rich and powerful. However, if my choice is between spending my life looking out first and foremost for #1 - screw everyone else - or refusing to give up on the lost causes, I think I know which way I'm heading.

a day in the life of a (counterfeit) grown-up

One of my greatest and most consistent fears over the last couple of years has been that life as an adult will eventually wear me down. In this nightmare scenario, year after year of working a 9-5 job will transform me into a dull, apathetic, listless grown-up who comes home from work, slumps into a chair, flips on the TV, and watches it until my brian has turned into oatmeal and I'm absentmindedly drooling.

Transitioning from the college lifestyle to the "adult" lifestyle can feel pretty odd and uncomfortable. The days when I lived within a ten minute walk of dozens of friends; when campus groups and committees planned all sorts of social things for us (which usually involved free food/t-shirts/even beer, by the end of it all); when great bands & musicians came to perform, and i could see them for next to nothing; when going to class was optional (I'm almost positive that work is NOT optional); those days are definitely gone.

Don't get me wrong - becoming an adult doesn't mean your life is over. Your daily schedule just shifts an incredible amount, and it can be hard to adjust to it all. It's much less flexible (seriously...you can't just decide to sleep in, get notes from someone later, and expect that your boss won't notice you weren't there). With at least 8 hours of your day spent at work, balancing the rest of your time can be complicated. Your need for seeing friends, being involved in your community, exercising, and setting apart some time for yourself (not to mention sleep) can be hard to bring into equilibrium. For me, it's hard to come to terms with the fact that I can't entirely escape settling into a basic routine. Some days during the week, I'm running from one thing to the next until 9 or 10 pm, and being spontaneous isn't exactly an option.

I think one of the biggest things that's helping me transition into this ridiculous grown-up lifestyle is that I don't let myself take things too seriously. Living with Laura helps, since it's easier to get into trouble when there's two people scheming instead of one. The rest of my friends in the area are pretty fantastic as well. Also, I volunteer two nights a week with my church's Jr and Sr High youth groups, so those kids keep my maturity level down at an acceptable level and remind me how to stay young:)

At the end of my day, whether it's been a crazy one that never let me stop to catch my breath or a low-key one, I can honestly say I consistently love my life. Becoming a fake grown-up hasn't ruined things; it's just forced me to stretch, adapt, embrace a steadier lifestyle, take full advantage of the moments of free time and spontaneity that spring up, and learn how to balance being responsible for my life without abandoning all the crazy/fun parts of it.

unexpected holidays

I only found out earlier this week that I had the day off for Veteran's Day today. Previously, I had this illusion that getting the day off for all the slightly obscure holidays would end at high school. Allegheny definitely didn't give us any of those days off (we didn't even get classes cancelled when the wind chill brought the temperature down to the negative twenties....not ok). So for the first time in a while, I started my day off not having any plans or any idea of what I'd end up doing. I can't even tell you how beautiful that was.

The morning began exactly how it should have. I had set my alarm for 9:30 (if I don't set an alarm, bad things happen..), and hit the snooze for at least a half an hour. Any day that starts like that has to end well. After a wonderfully slow, lazy morning - that centered around a LARGE cup of coffee - Laura, Matt, and I ended up at El Azteca for lunch.

For those of you who don't know, El Azteca is the most recent in a longgg string of Mexican restaurants that occupy the same building on Fairmount Ave. La Herradura lasted for a few years, and the circumstances surrounding its closing were rather notorious and caused quite a stir in this small town. As I remember (or as the rumors went), the management was busted for basically imprisoning some Mexicans and forcing them to work there - I think they took their green cards and wouldn't return them. Something like that. Welcome to Jamestown. Next came El Matador. All I remember about El Matador was that it couldn't get its liquor license. Enough said. This one closed a few months ago. Now we have El Azteca. The food's decent, but the best part of getting lunch there today has nothing to do with the food.

After we finished eating, Laura, Matt, and I got to talking about traveling. Traveling is one of those things pretty much every young adult can talk about forever. Where you've been, where you're going, where you really REALLY really want to go...and of course where you wouldn't go, even if someone offered to pay you. (North Korea, anyone?)

The long and short of our lengthy discussion is that the three of us decided we're roadtripping it up next summer!! We want to take two/two and a half weeks to go from here to the West Coast (and back), traveling the more northern route on the way there, through the Dakotas, Montana, etc., and returning by the way of N. California, Colorado, Kansas. We might have even drawn a map of the US on a piece of scrap paper so we could have a visual. And by 'we' I mean I did. It was pretty special looking.

Later in the afternoon, we met up again to continue planning this adventure out, and Anneli joined us. I couldn't tell if she was slightly amused by this whole plan or if she thought we lost our minds a bit, but either way, it had to at least be entertaining. After this second intensive planning session of the day, I headed out to Bemus and ended the day in a lovely way by having dinner with Soph and her parents. There really isn't a better way to finish a day than eating amazing food with an old friend and her wonderful parents while a fire's crackling on the grate, and outside the moon is rising slowly over the lake.

caving in

For the longest time, I've been dead-set against starting a blog. It seemed like everyone was blogging; everybody seemed wayyy too eager to toss their opinions out into the cacophony of voices that clutter up the billions of online 'communities.' I, on the other hand, overwhelmingly prefer face-to-face communication over online (or phone, for that matter) conversations.

I still haven't completely lost my cynicism about the whole thing, but I've at least decided to give it a shot and see what happens. My perspective on the value of blogging was mainly altered after a few of my friends fled the US and lived abroad for a few months (or even a year...ahem Sophie & Max..). The words and pictures in their blogs opened a window into their lives; I loved learning what their days looked like, what they were experiencing, how they were growing and changing. I guess I realized blogging wasn't so bad after all.

Sooo here it goes. If my blogging habits are anything like my journaling habits...this will be sporadic at best.