Coincidence?
Everytime I have posted my "HAPPIES" (See Jan and March), immediately after something happens... something big... and something bad.
Coincidence? I think not.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
HAPPIES
mom's newfound ability to text message * Heath * New job * Options * Colorado trip * Boss * Spring Break * dancing the night away * Slurpees * laughing with family * laughing with friends * 5 page essay done * no class for a week * sleeping in * blue sky * pets * CranMal * piano bars * night off *
Monday, March 2, 2009
Homeless Youth Resource Center (HYRC)
So WHERE do you work exactly? And you're not scared? Are they horrible/mean/scary/intimidating? Why do you work there?
These are the questions, usually in this order, that I get when I tell people where I work. It's been 3 months working with the street culture of Salt Lake City, and I can truly say it has changed me. To protect the kids I work with I don't talk about work outside of the center walls. Their stories are powerful, important, sad- but they are not mine to tell.
Recently Mike Terry from the DesNews here in SLC did a report on the HYRC. He spent several days with our kids, taking photos, conducting interviews, even following them around on the streets. Mike was great with them, and he really got them to open up and share about their lives. This video was created about some of our kids and shares their experiences. The center it shows them in is my place of business, and all of the kids you see our "my kids". There are also photos of them in their camps, sleeping in UHaul trucks, or walking around the streets of SLC at night. Because they signed releases to be on camera and in print, I can share this with you.
The video is beautiful and surprisingly honest. Here's an answer to all those questions. And no, I'm not scared. I love these people... Enjoy. And please watch.
Homeless Youth Resource Center Video (click here)
These are the questions, usually in this order, that I get when I tell people where I work. It's been 3 months working with the street culture of Salt Lake City, and I can truly say it has changed me. To protect the kids I work with I don't talk about work outside of the center walls. Their stories are powerful, important, sad- but they are not mine to tell.
Recently Mike Terry from the DesNews here in SLC did a report on the HYRC. He spent several days with our kids, taking photos, conducting interviews, even following them around on the streets. Mike was great with them, and he really got them to open up and share about their lives. This video was created about some of our kids and shares their experiences. The center it shows them in is my place of business, and all of the kids you see our "my kids". There are also photos of them in their camps, sleeping in UHaul trucks, or walking around the streets of SLC at night. Because they signed releases to be on camera and in print, I can share this with you.
The video is beautiful and surprisingly honest. Here's an answer to all those questions. And no, I'm not scared. I love these people... Enjoy. And please watch.
Homeless Youth Resource Center Video (click here)
Sunday Revelations
My world has been shaken. Rocked. Everything I know has been turned upside down, and it all started with a little conversation between Sib and her beau.
I only caught the last part of their conversation, taking place between the living room where Austin lounged and the back hallway where Sib was in her bedroom... " yeah, but I've slept away 6 years of my life..."
"What?" I joined in. "How have you slept away 6 years of your life?" After all, during her 20 years on the planet, I've known her for well... all of them. And as far as I'm concerned? She's been conscious for the vast majority. This merited a follow up, and what followed rocked my socks.
"Austin and I decided to calculate how long we've actually slept in our lives", Sib followed up with me. "We figured that we sleep an average of 8 hours a night, every day, for the past 20 years. My number is 6 years."
I was immediately intrigued and busted out my calculator to see if this was true. Try it yourself.
8 hours of sleep/ night (X) 7 days a week (X) 52 weeks (X) (Your age in years)= Hours slept in your life
Divide this number by 24, giving you the amount of days you've slept. Then divide this by 365= how many years you've slept.
People. My number is 8.31. 8.31 YEARS have passed me by in slumber.
WOW.
I only caught the last part of their conversation, taking place between the living room where Austin lounged and the back hallway where Sib was in her bedroom... " yeah, but I've slept away 6 years of my life..."
"What?" I joined in. "How have you slept away 6 years of your life?" After all, during her 20 years on the planet, I've known her for well... all of them. And as far as I'm concerned? She's been conscious for the vast majority. This merited a follow up, and what followed rocked my socks.
"Austin and I decided to calculate how long we've actually slept in our lives", Sib followed up with me. "We figured that we sleep an average of 8 hours a night, every day, for the past 20 years. My number is 6 years."
I was immediately intrigued and busted out my calculator to see if this was true. Try it yourself.
8 hours of sleep/ night (X) 7 days a week (X) 52 weeks (X) (Your age in years)= Hours slept in your life
Divide this number by 24, giving you the amount of days you've slept. Then divide this by 365= how many years you've slept.
People. My number is 8.31. 8.31 YEARS have passed me by in slumber.
WOW.
Friday, February 27, 2009
NSFW
I'm a fan of the online community. A morning, afternoon, and evening doesn't pass me by without logging into Facebook, surfing Blogger, and checking Gmail. I feel that as a 25 year-old I'm more than familiar with the online world. Recently, however, my faith in my prowess as a consumer of the interweb has been a little shaken.
I'm currently enrolled in a class that looks at popular constructs of gender, especially within the media. My instructor believes in freedom of speech, as well as freedom of exploration. Because of this a large portion of our class is participation in a class blog, titled UglyBuddy. (Read it here, you won't be bored, I promise...) Both students and teacher participate in this LiveJournal, spouting thoughts, sharing rants, or posting pictures that have to do with our discussions. Or sometimes that have to do with absolutely nothing at all.
I often find myself turning to UglyBuddy as part of my blog surfing. I'm always curious as to what random post will be up, what article will be linked, or what music reference I can search out. My classmates, I am finding, are much more eloquent in the online world and speak conversationally about icons, emoticons, and blogger-talk. LOL, TTYL, WTF. These are phrases I know about, but don't use, but apparantly acronyms are big in the online community, also. I learned this the hard way.
Last week, while unequivocally bored during a particularly slow session of peer advising I decided to see what was up with UglyBuddy. The most recent post was a picture of Madonna that was linked to another picture. My instructor labelled the link NSFW. I racked my mind trying to think of what organization NSFW was. A national society? A foundation for women? I had no idea, so I figured I'd move onto the picture to try and figure out the letters.
As I clicked on the icon from my open seat in the Department of Communication I was greeted with a full page, black-and-white, there for all the world to see, naked picture of Madonna. Now when I say naked, I mean NAKED. I mean that I now know what her personal grooming habits were in the 80's when this photo was taken.
I was shocked- not because I was looking at a centerfold of the Material Girl without any material, but because it was now on display for all of the Department of Communication to see. We're liberal... but we're not that liberal. I quickly exited out of my browser and promptly deleted the history on the computer. I told my instructor this and he just laughed, wondering why I hadn't heeded his warning.
"What warning???" I wondered.
"Well I told you it wasn't safe for work". Ahhh.... it's all making sense now.
Be advised: NSFW. NOT SAFE FOR WORK.
That's a lesson I won't have to learn twice...
I'm currently enrolled in a class that looks at popular constructs of gender, especially within the media. My instructor believes in freedom of speech, as well as freedom of exploration. Because of this a large portion of our class is participation in a class blog, titled UglyBuddy. (Read it here, you won't be bored, I promise...) Both students and teacher participate in this LiveJournal, spouting thoughts, sharing rants, or posting pictures that have to do with our discussions. Or sometimes that have to do with absolutely nothing at all.
I often find myself turning to UglyBuddy as part of my blog surfing. I'm always curious as to what random post will be up, what article will be linked, or what music reference I can search out. My classmates, I am finding, are much more eloquent in the online world and speak conversationally about icons, emoticons, and blogger-talk. LOL, TTYL, WTF. These are phrases I know about, but don't use, but apparantly acronyms are big in the online community, also. I learned this the hard way.
Last week, while unequivocally bored during a particularly slow session of peer advising I decided to see what was up with UglyBuddy. The most recent post was a picture of Madonna that was linked to another picture. My instructor labelled the link NSFW. I racked my mind trying to think of what organization NSFW was. A national society? A foundation for women? I had no idea, so I figured I'd move onto the picture to try and figure out the letters.
As I clicked on the icon from my open seat in the Department of Communication I was greeted with a full page, black-and-white, there for all the world to see, naked picture of Madonna. Now when I say naked, I mean NAKED. I mean that I now know what her personal grooming habits were in the 80's when this photo was taken.
I was shocked- not because I was looking at a centerfold of the Material Girl without any material, but because it was now on display for all of the Department of Communication to see. We're liberal... but we're not that liberal. I quickly exited out of my browser and promptly deleted the history on the computer. I told my instructor this and he just laughed, wondering why I hadn't heeded his warning.
"What warning???" I wondered.
"Well I told you it wasn't safe for work". Ahhh.... it's all making sense now.
Be advised: NSFW. NOT SAFE FOR WORK.
That's a lesson I won't have to learn twice...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Happies
* Sun shining * Blue sky * School started * Graduation * Great friends * Great fam * Broadway Center Theater movies * Text messaging * Peer advising * Perfect class schedule * iPod * Sib * Comm classes * Not being the newbie on campus * Running into old friends * Running into new friends * Grad apps in * My red vest * Western * Freedom * Running * Gym pass * Turkey wraps * Avocados * Coffee with creamer * Laughing * LoveSac * Biggest Loser * Co-workers * Snowy mountains * Spag Fac * Speaking Spanish * Guitar * Dancing * Good music * Smoothies * Cereal *
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Auld Lang Syne
"It's gonna be a great year!" I tried to persuade her.
"But we're going to be so old this year," Christina frowned. Somewhere between her lines of grumbling protests I understood what she was saying. Why should two single, jobless women celebrate a year that was going to quickly usher them into their mid-twenties? It didn't bode well for us Utah girls. I laughed at her disdain for Father Time, not because I didn't feel for her pain but because I realized for the first time just how excited I was for 2008. It was going to be a big year: I could feel it.
"Great in '08, Ghetto, that's the theme!", I smiled. "It's gonna be a great year!"
We finished the drive in silence, letting the year unfold before us. I didn't know then, one year ago, what I know now- the grimy details of the happies, the sads, the goods, and the bads. But I knew it then: 2008 was going to be important; it was going to be big.
Now, with all the details tucked into my memories, I find myself replaying the last 12 months of my life like clips from a movie: In 2008 I re-learned how to learn and fell in love with school. I fell in love with running and surprised myself time and again that I could be successful in something that I had always previously ascribed to others. Now somehow it's mine, too. I spent 75 miles on a bicycle. I embraced the idea of spandex in public. I picked up the guitar again, and put down my addiction for caring with other people think. I found a new appreciation for mustaches and antlers. I hiked Bryce Canyon with my mom and sisters and scaled ancient cliff dwellings with my dad. I watched my brother say "I Do" and realized that it's okay that right now, for the time being, I'm saying "I Don't". I took a flying leap of my own brand of faith and left a job that I hated (the landing is to be continued... see next year's '09 post...) I mailed an important Letter. I met new people. I made dear friends and lost dear friends. I took the GRE, and it took me. I applied to grad schools anyway. I bought red high heels. I created a softball team. I moved in with my sister. I missed my dad. I appreciated my family. As we are. I listened to great music, laughed alot, and danced even more. I became a Hero, got completely LOST, and aimed to be the Biggest Loser. I rented a U-Haul for the first time. I found what is possibly the best apartment. Ever. And the best landlord. Ever. With the best roomie. Ever. I spent the Holidays at home for the first time in three years. I achieved my goals. I tasted success. I swallowed disappointment. I voted. I protested. I cheered. Although I didn't always know it at the time, I enjoyed the crap out of 2008.
Oh yes. It was a big year.
So here's to the chisel labeled 2009, and a raised glass for all of you who shared in '08 with me:
"But we're going to be so old this year," Christina frowned. Somewhere between her lines of grumbling protests I understood what she was saying. Why should two single, jobless women celebrate a year that was going to quickly usher them into their mid-twenties? It didn't bode well for us Utah girls. I laughed at her disdain for Father Time, not because I didn't feel for her pain but because I realized for the first time just how excited I was for 2008. It was going to be a big year: I could feel it.
"Great in '08, Ghetto, that's the theme!", I smiled. "It's gonna be a great year!"
We finished the drive in silence, letting the year unfold before us. I didn't know then, one year ago, what I know now- the grimy details of the happies, the sads, the goods, and the bads. But I knew it then: 2008 was going to be important; it was going to be big.
Now, with all the details tucked into my memories, I find myself replaying the last 12 months of my life like clips from a movie: In 2008 I re-learned how to learn and fell in love with school. I fell in love with running and surprised myself time and again that I could be successful in something that I had always previously ascribed to others. Now somehow it's mine, too. I spent 75 miles on a bicycle. I embraced the idea of spandex in public. I picked up the guitar again, and put down my addiction for caring with other people think. I found a new appreciation for mustaches and antlers. I hiked Bryce Canyon with my mom and sisters and scaled ancient cliff dwellings with my dad. I watched my brother say "I Do" and realized that it's okay that right now, for the time being, I'm saying "I Don't". I took a flying leap of my own brand of faith and left a job that I hated (the landing is to be continued... see next year's '09 post...) I mailed an important Letter. I met new people. I made dear friends and lost dear friends. I took the GRE, and it took me. I applied to grad schools anyway. I bought red high heels. I created a softball team. I moved in with my sister. I missed my dad. I appreciated my family. As we are. I listened to great music, laughed alot, and danced even more. I became a Hero, got completely LOST, and aimed to be the Biggest Loser. I rented a U-Haul for the first time. I found what is possibly the best apartment. Ever. And the best landlord. Ever. With the best roomie. Ever. I spent the Holidays at home for the first time in three years. I achieved my goals. I tasted success. I swallowed disappointment. I voted. I protested. I cheered. Although I didn't always know it at the time, I enjoyed the crap out of 2008.
Oh yes. It was a big year.
So here's to the chisel labeled 2009, and a raised glass for all of you who shared in '08 with me:
And ther's a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
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