In my bones

I feel like finding validation is nearly impossible in my life. I don't do enough stuff that can be measured for there to be a quantifiable, "you done good, kid."

Today at the Storytown show at the hospital there was a young girl and her mom who were pretty much our only audience members (most of the kids watch on TVs in their rooms). At one point we pretended that the girl and her mom were Woody and Buzz from Toy Story and then, because sometimes we're jerks who like to make our own fun, we asked the mom to say, "To infinity and beyond," for us (some movie lines never get old).

The mother who was super embarrassed put her head in her hands and hid from us (as much as you can hide without going anywhere). One of the cast members assumed that she was crying and apologized for making her sad.

"She's not crying. She's laughing. Y'all are funny." pipped up the little girl.

The show went on and at the end we all laughed about how sweet the little girl had been. And while it was cute, it was also incredibly rewarding. Kids are honest, and real and they don't have time to say nice things to you just because you're doubting yourself and your choices.

That little moment of pure childish honesty was enough for me to keep doing this to infinity and beyond.

On Why.

I have been thinking a lot about Barack Obama's interview today and it took a few hours before I realized why it matters as much as it does to me.

It matters for all the obvious reasons (like how it directly affects people that I love) but there is another one -

Its a way to start changing the minds of uninformed kids who I want to grow up to be awesome.

I know a bunch of really great kids who are new to this country. And through the fault of no one they have become very involved with various churches in the city. It makes sense - you come to a brand new country and you're going to look for support and guidance wherever you can and churches are good at being there.

But some churches come with Ideas.

And it seems that the kids I know with seem to go to churches who have taught them that being gay is wrong. When I ask them why they think being gay is wrong they tell me that is what the bible said. When I ask for another reason, they seem to think that the bible one is pretty much all they need (isn't that always the way with biblical reasons for anything?).

And because I am just me, and I am not a Church that is backed up by Parents and a Community (well, I come with a community, but it is smaller and, for understandable reasons, less valued) I felt powerless to try to argue with this biblical reasoning that everyone was so confident in believing.

Meekly, I could just say I hope they treat everyone respectfully no matter who they love. And they came back with, "but its wrong." And I bit my tongue - because they're seven and twelve and it felt like a battle I wasn't ready to have and lose.

But NOW?! Now its not just me fighting this battle alone. It's me and my good friend, Barack Obama - someone that all of these kids worship for looking like them and having stories that sound kind of like their own. In their eyes he does no wrong.

There are so many losing battles in the world, in politics and in my own little world of trying to help make things better wherever I can - and finally I feel like there is one I might be able to win.

***And I know that he is being kind of wishy-washy by saying that its the states' right to decide, but lets be real - the kids I know in particular probably would actually care more about his personal opinions than any sort of laws he passed.

Book 12.1 & 12.2 - Catching Fire and Mockingjay

Y'all, there is a reason I have a mockingjay key chain on my house keys.  These books are amazing.  After the epic book drought of 2011 (Icelandic adventures did not lend themselves to getting anything but guidebook reading done), I managed to read two books in three days.

I am fully aware of the fact that there is something ever-so-slightly off about being this into books that are geared for younger readers.  However, I feel like, in my own defense, perhaps it is time to call shenanigans on that particular reason for judging me (there are SO many other reasons).

When I, myself, was a young adult I read whatever I could get my hands on.  I was a completely unbiased reader.  Did I learn some things that maybe I could have waited a few years to learn?  Develop some misconceived notions about what to expect from relationships? Start using words I didn't really know the meaning of?  Yes.  These all happened, but my parents embraced it because a kid who is reading is way better than a kid smoking crack.

Anyway - since a young age, books have been just books and so that has continued into adulthood.

The way I decide what books I am going to read is by how much I want to keep reading them.

Catching Fire was waiting for me at the office on Monday morning.  I managed to wait until I got on the train to go home before diving in and then it was non-stop reading.  I read while I brush my teeth, and while eating dinner.  I read long past it was time to go to bed (even grown-ups have bedtimes, its how we keep ourselves from getting fired at work).  The next morning it was the same.  I got to my office and I just sat at my desk, computer still off, reading.  Then I turned the computer on, and kept reading until it got to the point where I realized that this was just ridiculous.  So I put it away...until lunch.

I was done by dinner.  And since Catching Fire is so good, I couldn't live with myself until I read Mockingjay too.

I think that Catching Fire might be my favorite of the books, which is weird for me too, guys.  I like the smell of uprising.  I mean, its no fun when everyone gets killed for their beliefs but its pretty bad ass to get to see what's about to happen.  Also its the book where Peeta is a dick, which is satisfying.  Apparently even when you're the nicest dude on the planet you can still be a total douche when some one hurts your pride/heart.

Mockingjay - on the second read (the first time was last summer when it came out) is still just as slow and disappointing.  And I still kind of wanted to punch Katniss in the face.  Like right in the jaw and tell her to grow up and stop whining.

I also wanted to tell everyone to leave her alone because she's a kid, not your dress-'em-up Warrior Barbie.  But since we hear her view points rather than anyone else's - her emotions are the ones that annoy me the most.

Also, I slipped for a second and thought that maybe Peeta was the best guy after all.  But then I remembered that my hate for shmoopy love business (despite what you may have heard) outweighs my love of cakes, every single time.  Also, get a job, Peeta.  Get. A. Job.

The best moment of this re-read came when I was letting a coworker borrow The Hunger Games and handed it to him in the middle of summer camp lunch when he was surrounded by 10 - 13 year-old girls.  The girls lost their Minds.  I think I won all the cool points available that day from having already read all three books.

And here's the thing - anything that gets kids reading is okay.  Anything that turns the tv off is amazing.  And books that bring together 26-year olds and 12-year olds (and perhaps a more mature audience as well, my mother and most of her friends have read it...and they are in their early 30's) and gives them something to bond over is the most inspiring and truly lifts my spirits in a way that makes me realize how truly important and valuable books are.

So thanks Suzanne Collins and J.K. Rowling and Tamora Pierce and Monica Furlong and Phillip Pullman...for writing books that defy labels and generational gaps. 

Book 10, 10.1, 10.2 - If I Were in Charge of the World and Tamora Pierce books

That was an excessively long title, but I need to catch up a little on these.

 (image via)

I read If I Were in Charge of the World two months ago.  It took about an hour.  But it was a delightful hour.  Kids poetry is so unassuming and I don't really have to guess at the meanings or read between any of the lines.  Adult poetry sometimes takes more trouble than its worth - kids poems are like a glass of Sprite.  Clean and refreshing and with some bubbles.

Buy a kid you know a copy of this poetry book.  Read all the poems together and then write poems.  Go.  Do it now.  You will be surprised at how inspired you are.  No seriously, I'll wait.

The reading of Pippi and of this have really reinforced my determination to get at least one or two kids who hate reading to come around to it at some point in the next...ever.  I don't know how I'm going to do it - but I'll figure it out.  You can't hate reading.  You just can't.

Also, in the dropping off of letters that my Mom did, she also left behind some books.  Per my request, as I thought that my bookshelves were not looking overstuffed enough.  Some of the books she left behind were a sampling of Tamora Pierce offerings.  So of course, rather than read something new - I immediately had to read Lioness Rampant and Wild Magic in quick secession.

 (image via)

(image via)

I cannot remember the last time I read either of these books all the way through so I had some new thoughts on them.

One - Dang.  There is a lot of sex.  I am all for girls being heroes and getting their swerve on but, Dang.  And while I would never call someone who had sex with exactly three people a slut, for some reason when I read this book I am lead to believe that she is a little bit of a ho (fo' sho'). 

Also this book is for kids - I guess maybe there is the hope that 12 year old girls won't understand what, "sharing a bedroll," means, but kids are way smarter than we give them credit for.  Or maybe Ms. Pierce just wants girls to know that its okay to get Biz-ay - as long as you wear a charm around your neck that will keep you from getting from pregnant, because we all know those are 100% affective.

Boyfriend kept trying to read over my shoulder as I was reading so that he could make fun of me (he sneaked a peek at the back cover and was full of judgement).  When I refused to let him read it he would invite ridiculous text for the book that was, embarrassingly, not that far off from the actual.

These books are super ridiculous and yet, I love them.  I totally dig 'em and I am a big fan of Tamora Pierce as you can tell from this lovely sepia tone photograph.

Fun fact, right before this picture was taken, my good friend McKim was very mad at me because I had just dropped the F-bomb in a children's book store and McKim doesn't really approve of that sort of behavior.

kids books

"When Tommy and Annika and their father reached the gate they heard [Pippi] calling.  They stopped to listen.  The wind whistled through the trees so that they could just barely hear what she said.


"I'm going to be a pirate when I grow up," she cried.  "Are you?"


Confession - I had never read Pippi Longstocking until this year.  Its one of those essential books of youth that skipped me by (see also: Perks of Being a Wallflower).  I had never even really had a desire to read it but we were on the hunt for a chapter book to use for a reading program at my job and one of our tutors suggested it.

I will never truly understand people who don't find immense joy and satisfaction in reading a book.  I know these people are out there, and I totally understand that they are just as smart and successful as the rest of us, but I will never quite understand how their brains work.

Its been the most frustrating as I watch these kids, most of whom are all under the age of twelve, fight tooth and nail against reading.  I don't know how it gets such a bad rap.  If there was a way to make books cool to these kids - I would pay whatever the price to bring it to them because they need it.  These kids need books, they need ways to escape their life every now and then.  All kids do.

This paragraph (the last in the book) spoke to me - about why we need books so badly.  Why kids especially need books.  Because kids should get the opportunity to consider if they're going to be pirates when they grow up or not.  And if they decide that a life of pirating is not, in fact, for them - then that's cool - at least they've given it some thought.

Anyway - if you have any other ideas of fairly easy chapter books that you think could engage kids ages 6-12, please let me know.

Teaching awesome.

I just want to take this hot second and give major props to all the teachers out there.

Here is what I have learned in my few, short years on this Earth.  Kids are hard to deal with.  As are adults.  Humans, in general, are kind of tedious.  Luckily, most of us only have to deal with other adults (until we drop the proverbial ball and make wee spawn of our own) on a day-to-day basis.

Can you imagine having to deal with all nonsense adults deliver every day AND whatever cockamamy business kids are dishing out?

And, in the effort of full disclosure, allow me to mention the fact that I Really, Really like kids (in the least creepy way possible).  I enjoy hanging out with kids (again, uncreepy) and have, since I was a kid, found myself working with them in a variety of ways.

"Oh!  You're so good with kids.  You should be a teacher."
"Oh!  You're so good on the toilet; you should be a plumber."

I've only ever taught kids in awesome capacities.  I teach them specific awesomeness and leave the regular learning to the true badass teachers out there.

I had this revelation a few days ago as I was walking to work, where I spend more time than I truly thought possible, negotiating, pleading, convincing, speaking sternly, bribing, and losing my mind with kids.  And there are only kids in the building 6 hours a Week.  And I feel like I spend all my time dealing with them.  And then I thought - holy crap, teachers spend All.Day.Every.Day with kids - fighting the epic battles of education with their bare hands and bared souls.

It is so amazing the work that teachers do.  The completely thankless task of getting kids to learn things despite their kicking and screaming.  And, lets be real, there are some sweet teaching gigs out there but - they are few and far between and the more I see the inner workings of the school systems, the more I think that a sweet teaching gig is quite the golden ticket.  Most of the people I know who are teachers, teach kids who have gotten it in their brains that they have something better to do?  As if you shouldn't be incredibly grateful that instead of spending all day in a field or a coal mine somewhere, you get to learn how the world works and all of the awesome potential you have as an educated part of it.

Again, as I am reading this I am trying to make sure I don't make any one too mad- I am not trying to dig on kids, there are kids out there who totally get it.  Who love learning.  Who drink in books and geometry proofs with a spoon.  I know.  I know some of those kids.  And they're totally awesome and man, do I hope they get to be in charge someday.

But there is a part of me who wants the other kids to be in charge too.  The kids who struggle and fight every single day.  Those are the kids who need amazing teachers to paint a picture of the world, even if it is one color at a time.

So thank you, to all the awesome teachers I know.  You are amazing.  And I figured I would wait until the Monday after teacher appreciation week, to let you know how much I mean it.

birds and the faces

My friend SOB sent me this picture and it completely made my week.

For some reason the caption doesn't come with the picture but here it is:

Fifth-graders react as they watch real photos of a developing fetus inside the uterus while senior health educator Andy Wentling presents "Life Begins," at the Robert Crown Centers for Health Education. (Chuck Berman/Chicago Tribune) (Chuck Berman/Chicago Tribune)

And the article (which you should read because it will make this blog post make a ton more sense)


Well, first of all, Kudos to Mr. Berman.  This is probably the best piece of photojournalism (that hasn't made me so miserable that I want to move to Mars) that I've seen since the picture of President G-Dubs Bush touring Fort Detrick in shoe-covering booties and one of those guests-in-surgery scrub caps (the poofy ones).

And the best part about it is its a total accurate depiction of what I (and the friends that I've polled) felt when we came face to face with sex education.  In some way, this picture is incredibly comforting.  My knowledge of what 5th graders know these days is limited but I am glad to hear they are still shocked/disgusted/mildly entertained by what happens when we all grow up.  

I remember the first time someone explained to me how my body was going to "change," my first thought was, "Old teacher lady says Whaaaaa?" and then my second  was, "me and my body have talked it over and we've decided that all this is NOT going to happen." 

But, you know, it did.  And I've handled it with all the awkwardness and bitterness that you would expect (although thank everything above that I got to learn from Ms. Officer instead of Mr. Boyer, who would wear the shortest of shorts and then put one foot up on a chair... I won't describe the rest, but needless to say he should have been fired...and I'm sure it was a scarring experience for the young gentlemen in my year).  

When Sean sent this article to me, he had it linked from Fox Nation, a website with the tagline - "The Fox Nation is for those opposed to intolerance, excessive government control of our lives, and attempts to monopolize opinion or suppress freedom of thought, expression, and worship."  Which is a statement that has just enough substance for people to use it against each other but not really enough to actually give a real point of view.

Anyway - it gave me the opportunity to read the comments generated by the readership. 

Here's the thing, commenters - you really have no idea what you're talking about.  First of all - everyone gets the "how a baby grows" talk together.  They separate boys v. girls for the "our bodies ourselves" portion.  Boys should have to know what has to happen inside a lady for a baby to come out, because otherwise they would not run to the corner store for ice cream and dino nuggets once they knocked a girl up.

Also, my Mom knew girl whose parents had told her that if she ever let a boy touch her hand she would immediately get pregnant, which is an excellent example of why we don't let parents be in charge of the "how babies are made" discussion.

And the idea that sex ed is making more teenage girls pregnant is laughable.  I'm pretty sure that if you showed every single teenage girl the video they made me watch in 9th grade (the one where the baby actually gets borned), once a month for like a year or so  - we would have exactly No unplanned pregnancies.

Anyway - its an amazing picture, and the organization that is going out there and making sure kids get all the information they need deserves all the support they need - if anything for making it so that normal parents can have this conversation instead:

Mom - "So uh, I guess I am supposed to have a talk with you about stuff."
Son - "Oh. Uh..."
Mom - "So you know everything you're supposed to know, right?  About everything."
Son - "Yeah.  I'm good."
Mom - "Great.  Good talk then."
 

Book 6.1 - The Hunger Games

I didn't have a plan in place for re-reads.  At this point they don't count.  But I still want to talk about them.

I am not going to say that this is my favorite book ever, because while appropriately hyperbolic for me, its not quite true.  I will say its for sure the best book I discovered in 2010.  And by discovered I mean was sent by C. McKim.  My book hero (for serious - if you're ever on the hunt for a good book - check her blog.  Its updated frustratingly infrequently, but its my go-to for new reading material).

Anyway.  I started re-reading this because now that the protagonist has been (irritatingly) cast I wanted to read it again from a screen-writing perspective (not that I have been hired to write the screen-play, but I feel like I should make myself available to step in).

This story is made to be a movie, y'all.  Suzanne Collins knows exactly where her bread is buttered and for that - I salute her.  Its not everyone who can make a really compelling book that will also make a really compelling movie.

Upon reading this book for the third time I noticed a few things -

1- Katniss is frustratingly dense sometimes.  Perhaps this is a by-product of growing up in the seam and having "not starving to death" being your one and only mental focus day in and day out.  So much mental energy is spent staying alive you don't spend enough time learning about subtle nuances and reading between the lines.  Eventually she gets with the effing program, but Gah.

2- I am still, most definitely (for the period of the first book at least) solidly on Team Gale.  Grow a spine, Peeta.  Maybe it's Katniss's stupidity that's to blame, but I still vote Team Gale all the way.

3- I am still not quite sure how to sell this book to others.  When someone asks what its about, I'm always like, " Erm? Post apocalyptic America annnnd reality television?  And also young people in love.  Oh, and teenagers killing each other."  That being said - I started a Hunger Games revolution in Chi-city in the 25-and-older demographic.  You're welcome, Miss Collins.

I don't know why these books are so good - but they are.  And they are a delightful guilty pleasure.  Favorite moment this month?? - Hunger Games in a Sunday night bubble bath with a glass of wine.  Epic Win.

le cirque

So my boss has been gone for exactly one week of the four weeks she is leaving me to fend for myself.  This is not the first time that I have been left in charge - but it is the one with the most happening.  We are undergoing some personnel shifts (nothing bad or unexpected knockonwood knockonwood) and on Wednesday we had a field trip to Cirque Du Soleil.

Cirque is a totally bad ass organization with a huge social and outreach focus (betcha didn't know that!) they are really, really fantastic and love what we do (bonus!) so they give us free tickets to take kids, primarily kids who are from the not-so-great neighborhoods who may not ever have the chance to see a Cirque show, to whatever show they have going on in the Chicago area, which means that there are kids who have been our program for six or seven years and so have seen like 10 Cirque shows - which makes them this rare breed of pretentious, snobby asshats who are also eligible for the federal free lunch program.

Anyway - in my life I have dabbled in teaching but have always backed out when things got to serious (life imitates life in that way), why?  because I am not a huge fan of being responsible for other people's kids.  Its fun and all to teach them neat tricks like pirouettes or forward rolls or plate spinning but once people want me to take more than a passing interest, I kind of fade out.  Is this terrible?  Maybe... I have found, though, that when placed in an administrative position, I am far, far more interested in the lives of the youth of America.  As long as the direct contact is kept to a minimum - I am more than happy to change your kid's life for the better.

So ANYWAY - we have this field trip to Cirque and since my boss is gone - I am left in charge.  The macadamia nuts  she sent to me from lovely Oahu were nice, but they do not really make up for the epic strain this has put on my psyche. 

Here's the thing.  I am an epic, epic worrier.  I find that the best course of action is to spend most of my time worrying about the worst possible things that can happen, so that when they do happen - I am at least anticipating them (and if they don't at least maybe I've burned a few calories with all the worry and hysteria).  So for the past week or so, I have worried about this trip: worried about losing a kid, about the bus not coming, or getting lost, or all of us getting stranded on the side of the road, or the tickets not being there, or me being shot before I got to to work that day (which is not, like, out of the realm of possibility in this neighborhood) and that messing up the trip because the tickets are in my name and then I ruin all these kids' lives and they become gang members and thus do not break the cycle of poverty.

That has pretty much been how my head sounded over and over for a week - and then the trip came and everything went totally fine.  There was some shenanigans over parking (that were totally my fault) as well as kids running around cracked out on free, unlimited popcorn and soda (fail, Sears Centre, fail) but the kids all loved it and they all got on and off the bus, in and out of the theater and picked up by their parents in one piece.

Which means my worrying was exactly what the doctor ordered, because had I not worried then terrible things would have totally happened. 

And so now I am back to my regularly scheduled worrying about normal things.  But, the blog posts for the next few weeks may be a little light as I attempt to do both my own job and my boss's (ta-da!).

of thee I sing

Today I took four kids from the organization I work for to a Martin Luther King Jr event at a local church.  The kids were going to be performing in the middle of the event which meant we had to sit through a bunch of singers and speakers that were interesting for an old fart like me, but epically boring for a 12 year old boy - especially one who is from Africa, so is no real stranger to struggle or overcoming obstacles. 

At one point everyone stood up to sing "Lift Every Voice and Sing." and the 12 year old stayed sitting.

His older sister: "Stand up!  We're all singing "Lift Every Voice and Sing."
The 12 year old: "Why?  Its not February yet."

This struck me as funny more than anything else.  Should I be horrified that he thinks that the only time you sing "Lift Every Voice and Sing" is during Black History Month?  Maybe.  But, I am not his parent or teacher so its not really my problem.  I did then explain to him that you can pretty much sing any song whenever you want as loud as you want and its totally fine.

This nugget of info kind of blew this kid's mind.

Happy Monday.  Please feel free to sing or talk about the dreams you have or how you want the world to be different any day you please.

Cutter

For the past week I've been teaching at a school. Its actually kind of awesome, there are some kids whose parents have to work during Spring Break, so they bring us in to give the kids something fun to do during the break. I really like it, and the kids (on a whole) are fairly awesome. Some of them remembered me from last year which is impressive because I meet people and six hours later have no idea who they are. And they're all about hugs. And who doesn't love hugs?

Anyway - they are a rowdy group, which is to be expected. They're 1st-4th graders, they come from rough home lives (some of them) and they're on Spring Break which is when they're supposed to be getting the nutty out. So normally I chalk up their insanity to you know, being kids. But there is one thing that drives me completely bonkers.

They have some SERIOUS issues with lines. Primarily the whole standing in them and the proper etiquette that surrounds that. We work with 60 kids most days, divided into 6 groups of 10. So at least six times a day (if not more)- I hear, "He Cutted!!" or some variation therein. For some reason, this bugs me far more than anything else they do including stuff that might get them super hurt or super hurts me.

I have developed my own way of dealing with it, which is to say that the "line" they are in doesn't matter - I am going to call on the person who looks like most interested in participating and is being the most respectful. This works for the most part, but they still find ways to get REAL.EMOTIONAL about the order in which they get to do skills (this is also so bizarre to me, because they all are going to get to go the exact same number of times no matter what and if it were me, I'd want to go last so I could make sure that I did better than everyone else...but I am pretty neurotic for a seven year-old.

Anyway, today I was thinking about this and how totally ridiculous it is but then I got to thinking about me, right now, and how I would lose my ever Pat Benatar loving mind if someone cut in line. Not so much for fun things, but like the bank. Oh man, if someone cut at the bank, I'd lose it. Not out loud, probably, but under my breath and for sure in a text message to someone. Its weird how focused we are on lines, and how I am probably jacking these kids up for life by rocking their world with this whole, "there is no line" thing. Because lines are an essential part of our culture - and not just dbag Americans, but people stand in line all over the word.

In retrospect, I should have just taught them all a valuable lesson about how cutting in line is wrong and its going to get you a lot of dirty looks when you get older...but instead I just make my own life a lot easier on a day to day basis. Which is probably a much more valuable lesson about the future.

wee ones

Is it weird that hanging out with kids makes me want them LESS? I hung out with my two newest cousins, Ethan and Connor and while they are soul-crushingly adorable, they are a TON of work. When I was in middle/high school and I hung out with anyone under the age of 4, my biological clock would speed to a neck-breaking pace. Now, it grinds to a halt.

Don't get me wrong, I still love kids - particularly ones that are related to me, dressed nicely, or British. But seeing the work that goes into it makes me want to take a nap and about 40 birth control pills. They scream for NO reason, they poop ALL the time, you have to feed them special food, and there is no promising that they will sleep when you want them to.

I know this isn't news, by any stretch of the imagination, but I've been thinking about how time is now working against me. Its time to start wanting kids according to all the websites/magazines I pretend to read and yet the idea is terrifying to me.

Where is this going?? No idea, but in 2 days this blog will be accompanied by pictures of said adorableness once I get them on my computer.

As promised.

for the kids

Dear Children of America,

Heyyyy. It's your favorite Aunt Rachel over here. I know I'm super cool because I spent most of my time getting drunk and being the center of attention. Also I wear trendy clothes and I made you feel like less of a whore that one time you went all the way with that kid you met in the bar who smelled like Patchouli and Filet-O-Fish. You know that my advice is sound. So grab a cold beer for your auntie, sit down, and listen up.

Fuck your dreams. Seriously, unless they involve a career with limitless growth and opportunities for pay raises no matter the economic shit hole your country is in, fuck your dreams.

Too harsh? Fine. Reevaluate your dream. Classical Pianist you say? Sure, except instead be a Pharmacist. The next [insert author/photographer/actor of your choosing]? Right, of course, by which you mean Engineer of pretty much any caliber.

I'm not saying you need to give up your dreams. That's mean and I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea about this little note.

Focus on what's really important.

Dental Insurance.

You can do pretty much anything once you have a job with insurance. Sure, you'll be doing it on the side and it will mean that overtime you'll get less sleep. But you can sleep after sex, so really just do what I tell you.

I know that there are those sanctimonious douche bags out there who say that if you have a "fall back" plan you will inevitably fall back. And that might be true but its dumb and pricky to say. What these d-waffles should be saying is, "get a degree, get a job, figure out how your dreams work themselves in."

I am not saying I regret the choices I've made in life. Mostly because I don't like the satisfaction that will give various people I don't like and also, I don't. Because I can now be a billboard of what your life can turn into if you're not careful. Also, I'm deliriously happy for about 3 hours a week, and I get to get shithoused on like, Tuesday, with very few consequences - mental or otherwise, and I wear sweatpants probably more than is appropriate for any person over the age of 7.

So, think about it. I've heard that government work will probably turn you into an abusive alcoholic, but it will also give you the opportunity to have someone else pay for your absurdly expensive dental procedures. Two sides to every 3-dimensional object, my friend.

Love and Kisses,
Rachel