On Being Alone

“
Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space...If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.” Janet Fitch, White Oleander


I live in a house with seven other people. Some days, it feels like I'm constantly surrounded by people, by noise, by commotion.


And other times, I feel incredibly alone.


And this isn't a bad thing. While there is a specific kind of pain and a unique loneliness that sometimes comes when feeling alone while being surrounded by people, it's also an opportunity to figure out why the people who are important to you...are so important.


Sometimes, being all on your own is kinda exciting.

Double Printing

So...it's been a while. But I've been busy! Here's a quick post I wrote up about last week's hearing. You can find it at http://voicesforchildren.com/2011/11/medicaid-public-hearing-on-behavioral-health/

Or right here:

Medicaid Public Hearing on Behavioral Health

Last Thursday, Medicaid held a public hearing about the new rules and regulations for children’s behavioral health in Nebraska. Right now, these rules and regs are still only in draft form, but they will soon be finalized. This hearing was for anyone to share their thoughts on the draft rules and voice their concerns. Most of the people who testified were behavioral health providers, but family members of children with behavioral health problems and organizations like Voices for Children shared their concerns as well.

Like many issues Voices for Children advocates for, we are concerned that the rules and regs limit access to much needed services for kids in the behavioral health system. We fear that the regs create unnecessary roadblocks that deny early interventions and preventative care to kids.

In our economy, we recognize that money is always a primary concern. We are afraid that early interventions and preventative care services are being denied coverage under Medicaid in order to save money. But denying early access to services to kids with behavioral problems just doesn’t make good financial sense. If we are able to intervene early and address problems now, then we stop issues from growing into more complicated and more expensive problems down the road.

Almost every person who testified at the hearing spoke of this concern: that denying access now creates huge problems later. As experts in their fields of psychology, psychiatry, and social work, these men and women provided countless examples of scientifically based proof that early intervention saves lives and saves money.

This sounds like a win-win for Nebraska.

We will be paying close attention in the coming weeks to see if Medicaid listens to Nebraska’s people and works to address the regulatory barriers so more kids can get access to the treatment they need.

Hate and Heritage

I read an N&O article this morning (I read a LOT of newspapers at work) about students protesting and/or calling attention to the Silent Sam monument at UNC created to honor the UNC alumni and students who fought and died in the Confederate Army.

I know the common response from some southerners is "Heritage, not hate." That we should honor the lives sacrificed and lost in the Confederacy too and not only focus on slavery. But the two are intimately linked and it can't be ignored. As Southerners, as white people, as Americans--we don't have the right to pick and choose our history. We can celebrate our culture, our families, our hard work, but it cannot be taken out of the context of the hate and cruelty that permeated every aspect of life (and continues to influence us today).

This means that Silent Sam shouldn't be removed from campus either. It would be similar to the whitewashing of history by removing nigger from Mark Twain's Huck Finn.

But saying that the monument only honors the lives of men who died is also a false interpretation of history, because I believe it is more true that the statue was originally created to remember the movement, rather than the individual lives lost. "Heritage not hate" is bullshit--Julian Carr, Civil War vet who was at the unveiling of the statue in 1913, is quoted in the N&O article to have said the monument was erected to honor the soldiers for preserving the white race.

Lives lost are lives lost, and no one wants to discount their physical sacrifices and suffering. But only focusing on those sacrifices ignores the larger implications of the Civil War and American history in general.

There cannot be a discussion about the Civil War and not have slavery be a significant part of that conversation.

I am not advocating removing the statue. But like students quoted in the article, I hope the statue "spark(s) dialogue and provoke(s) critical thought."

If this is simply about remembering lives lost, then we have a problem in representation. If we think about the number of lives lost on slave ships, plantations, police brutality and lynch mobs--its a massive number. I have no idea what it is, but if we think about that number compared to the number of lives lost on the Confederate side of the CW, you would think there would be at least an equal number of statues commemorating black movement leaders, or monuments to honor the unnamed, unremembered, and undocumented deaths of slaves and later black American citizens who were treated like animals.

I love my country and the people who make up this country. Being critical of our history isn't a reflection of a desire to "move to Canada" or an attempt to erase an intense white guilt. But truth is always better than fiction, even if it's tough to hear.

This pretty much sums up my Midwest experience so far

Pigeon: A love-hate relationship

So I got sucked into the yoga scene on my last few weeks in Boston. I thought I would really hate it. For one thing: it’s an activity that you can’t win at. For another: I have little patience in meditating on my “inner light.” Needless to say, I’m a sucker for free things and promotional deals. I went with my lovely friend whose kept me grounded in this awesome city.

The first class we tried was called “Afro Flow Yoga.” It was epic. Led by a stunningly gorgeous and incredibly personable Jamaican-Canadian woman--who I had an instant girl-crush on—and her partner who played African drums for the entire 1.5 hours. She blended African dancing techniques with yoga and I totally sucked at it. My hips don’t move in that effortlessly sexy way, but it totally didn’t matter. It was fun to relax and go with the flow…so to speak.

Next day: aerial yoga. Taught by a circus performer. We did yoga in the air in hanging silk material. Enough said.

The rest of the two weeks were a little less dramatic, but just as rewarding. And what I’ve gotten out of it has been much more than being able to consistently touch my toes (yes…I am really that inflexible). I’ve learned that yoga is often about being comfortable in uncomfortable positions and situations. That breathing into the discomfort and practicing to embrace it is really a rewarding challenge. I had a huge accomplishment in the second week when I went through an entire class and DIDN’T GET PISSED ONCE. I know this sounds funny—but it’s from the fact that I don’t like doing things I’m not good at. I like to win. I like to be the best. I like to push myself and go the farthest than anyone else. Just ask my hiking friends.

But in yoga—I practice at not being awesome. And that’s just it: practice. 

An Open Letter to A Friend

Dear (you),

Awhile back, you gave me a letter of sorts that said five wonderful things about me. How much you admired my confidence, that you loved my sarcasm and humor, and other things I appreciated so so much.

But I don’t want you to come away with an inaccurate impression of me. Not because I don’t think I’m awesome—but because it sometimes feels that you value these traits you think you see in me and don’t value the some of the perhaps “opposite” traits in yourself. And I never want to give you to feel that way.

For starters--I hate the idea of appearing weak, which often comes across as brash, confident, and tough. I put on an air that seems to not care what others think, but of course I want people to think well of me in most all situations. I hide my emotions—which is something I’ve been working on expressing better. But this has worked out pretty disastrously for me the last two times I really made myself vulnerable and open to criticism. I lost two people I thought were some of my closest friends. I learned that in some instances, friends love conditionally. And I’ve had to face and accept the fact that sometimes I do too.

I tell you this because I want to admit that these “good” things in me have consequences that I struggle with. I don’t get everything right—even when I’m so sure I'm going about things the right way.

I also want to remind you that the loudest voice in a group doesn’t mean it’s the right one or the best one. And that being loud and having the comfortable ease to express one’s opinion does not make it any more valid that the person who sits quietly. In fact, people who are first to speak often don’t think through exactly what they are saying—I know this happens to me. Foot-in-mouth moments? Damn I'm so good at those.

You told me that you loved how funny I am—and I like this about myself too. Except I’ve learned that my humor isn’t always understood, appreciated, or appropriate for a given situation. I’ve discovered how much I can hurt people with this “funny” part about me. And this part I don’t like—I don’t like how I’m quick to get frustrated with others, how I sometimes think they take things too seriously, or that I’m intimidating.

I build up walls with my humor, my confidence, and my—shall we say, loudness. And I’m trying to find ways to stay true to myself while still letting everyone around me be comfortable being who they are.

I guess what I really wanted to say was that yes, I like who I am and I am confident in my ideas and actions—but at the same time I never want you to have the impression that my loudness, humor, and apparent ease in some situations is in anyway better than those who sit and observe, think long before speaking, quietly voice an opinion--or choose not to voice it at all, or sometimes feel uncomfortable. Everyone has insecurities; some people just hide them more than others. And those who allow themselves to be vulnerable and show their insecurities often make the better person.

I love that you are so thoughtful.

I love that you take important things very seriously. That you treasure your relationships and can find the good things in so many places and people.

I love that, even though you are cautious by nature, you take risks

And I love that you are exactly the way you are, and I never want you to change to be something you’re not, no matter how “easy” you may think it would be to sometimes be something or someone different. 

Penises. And pictures of them

Reading between all the terrible penis puns of late, I have to say I find the whole thing more than a little ridiculous. Of all the awful sex scandles (and REAL scandals--aka things that actually influence how government is run) that have been exposed over the years in our nation's history, I struggle to grasp how sending pictures through Twitter to consenting adults should be the kill shot on Weiner's congressional career.

Sure, it has a little bit of an ick factor. But in an age where sexting is about as common as making out in movie theaters, I bet most people have a few skeletons in their internet closet they wouldn't want their employers--or the entire country--to know about.

Nor should we. When it comes to policy making and actual job matters, someone's personal life shouldn't matter one bit--unless it is interfering with that job. We don't elect people because we believe they are morally superior to us--because that's not in their job description--and it's hypocritical to hold them to these standards.

Of course there are times when personal life does matter. Having sex with someone you work with or for--totally America's business. Things in someone's personal life that is illegal--totally our business. Being a sexist pig that creates a hostile work environment--maybe a tiny less our business but I would still say America has a right to know. Being a homophobic gay-basher working to take away the few rights we give them...and then getting caught with male prostitutes--absolutely America's business. Because who doesnt love irony. But I refuse to believe that a person's relationship with their spouse, mistresses, and internet randos makes someone bad at their job.

From this entire experience, I think the most important lesson learned is this:
STOP MAKING TWITTER AND FACEBOOK SUCH A BIG DEAL. If I have to sit through another CNN analysis of what "the people are saying on Twitter" I'm going to start bleeding from the ears. Pick your heads up from your dumbass smart phones (see what I just did there? Damn I'm clever) and learn to communicate in more than 140 characters. Extra bonus points if it's outside and you're talking face to face with a real human.

What I do after work.

I just ate the perfect mango.

Warmed by my window sill and cut in that flipped out-cubed way (which is my favorite) I'm standing over my sink with the juice running down my fingers. Eating cube by cube until all I'm left with is the leathery skin. Which I  still try to scrape off any remaining deliciousness. Cutting off the remaining skin around the pit, I attempt to hold the slippery fruit while gnawing on the last bits that get more sour the closer I get to the seed.

Except now I have a few stringy bits that are determined to never leave the in-betweens of my teeth.

I have nothing clever to say. This hurts my sarcastic soul

Ok people (aka my mother) I haven't written anything about my life in Boston thus far because this is a sacred online space for sarcasm, wit, and random musings! Life here is lovely and normal. And I refuse to believe people are interested in what I ate for breakfast and what movie I watched last night. But hey, maybe I'm mistaken.

Things immediately fell into normal life pace on landing in Boston. It's either because I'm easily pleased, or that people's lives really are the same no matter where they are.

There's probably some truth in both.

I got to my apartment (free of any Craigslist killers), moved my stuff into my huge attic bedroom, walked down the street to the corner grocery--blasting with Spanish music, tiny tiny aisles, 20 lbs bags of rice, and no gringas (excepto para mi, por supuesto).

Oh and I also stopped by CVS to buy shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, and other liquids I'm still not allowed to bring on planes. And here I thought the war on terror was won....

I go to work. I do work-y things. Like research stuff, write stuff, edit stuff. It's fantastic and I'm super pumped to be here.

Usual weeknights I stop by the grocery store on the way home from work (I have hardly any fridge space), cook something delicious (duh), curl up with my quilting and either watch Dexter or a Redbox.

...Ten years ago, would anyone have guessed I'd be happily sitting in an empty apartment in a new city, watching a serial killer tv show? I've come a long way baby

To going

I haven't found anywhere in the world where I want to be all the time. The best of my life is the moving. I look forward to going

Laying in my bed, listening to the rain outside and reading the BFG in my partially moved out of apartment. Blank walls, half packed wardrobe, empty drawers, and a cluttered floor complete the look of “in limbo.” Still here, not quite moving on. Just yet.

It’s a feeling of detached curiosity—a brand new city next week, living in an apartment with two students I found on Craigslist (crossed fingers they aren’t associated with any Craigslist Killers…) and working a brand new job that even my boss “can’t really describe exactly what I’ll be doing.”

I have loved my time at Carolina, but I take comfort in knowing that my best days AREN’T behind me. That there’s a big o world out there and for a moment—a brief spark of optimism and endless opportunity seems possible.

I’ll go back to embracing the harsh realities of the world tomorrow. 

yeah, this is happening...

25 songs. Time well spent.

1. A song from your childhood: "High Powered Love," Emmylou Harris. I remember dad always playing Harris' "Cowgirl's Prayer" album on Saturdays when we were cleaning the house. I always liked cleaning windows--spraying Windex up and down our big windows in the living room and "racing" the drips to the bottom with paper towel.

2. A song that reminds you of your most recent ex-boyfriend/girlfriend. Well, I've famously declared that I "don't have boyfriends," so I'd say the song that reminds me of my most recent man-friend-person-relationship would be "Empire State of Mind," Jay-Z, Alicia Keys--driving Chapman's Peak on Sunday afternoons singing off key (him, not me--I have perfect pitch).

3. A song that reminds you of one/both of your parents. Anything Jackson Browne. Including "Barricades of Heaven"

4. A song that calms you down. "Forever," Ben Harper. Smooth, soft and melancholy. I put it on repeat when I'm studying or when I have trouble falling asleep (yeah, I'm talking to you, neighbors who throw parties on weeknights).

5. A song that is often stuck in your head. "Best for Last," Adele. Because it's awesome and I listen to it all the time.

6. A song that reminds you of a best friend. "Banana Pancakes," Jack Johnson. In high school I had friends over and for breakfast we made pancakes. I put bananas in mine. MKC was totally weirded out and didn't know "people actually did that" and only thought it was a song.

7. A song that reminds you of the past summer. Well, I somewhat had two summers, in NC and Cape Town. So I'm gonna go with "Waka Waka," Shakira feat Freshlyground. The opening "waaaaa" instantly brings me back to my first few months in Cape Town and World Cup madness.

8. A song that reminds you of your first love. Never been in love (the English language needs more nuanced ways to describe relationships). But I'll say "Where We Gonna Go From Here," Matt Kearney takes me back to high school art class, with my head phones in and zoning out from my surroundings and fixating on the complexities of even silly high school relationships.

9. A song that makes you hopeful. "Family Name," Peter Bradley Adams. Well I'll raise my glass with the unfortunate ones, we are broken and tired from the miles we have run. But our hearts, they are open, and the healing's begun. And now our chance has come.

10. A song by your favorite band. Favorite? Mean question, but I'll go with "Jungle Love," Steve Miller Band. Because everything IS better when wet

11. A song on the soundtrack of your favorite movie. "Oh I Just Can't Wait to be King" The Lion King. Duh.

12. The last song you heard. "Cocaine," Robin Thicke. Crazysexycool.


13. A song that reminds you of a former friend. "Can't Stop Missing You," Trey Songz feat "that Canadian teen-drama star turned 'musician.'"

14. A song that reminds you of your boyfriend/girlfriend. "Music is My Hot Hot Sex," CSS. Hell yes music is my boyfriend.

15. A song you love singing along to. "Someone Like You," Adele. This could also be cross listed as "A song my neighbors are probably sick of hearing me sing through our thin walls," but I don't care. This song is awesome.

16. A song that made you cry. "Last Request," Paolo Nutini. Love love this. Just not his hair.

17. A song that makes you want to dance. "Everytime We Touch," Cascada.

18. A song you love but rarely listen to. Waaaat? People have songs they love but don't listen to? What's wrong with you people??

19. The first song alphabetically in your iPod. "Aaj Ki Raat" from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack

20. The last song alphabetically in your iPod. "90210," Wale.

21. Your favorite song. This is mean. I do not have one favorite. But perhaps "Hallelujah," Jeff Buckley cover by Kate Voegele.

22. A song that someone has sung to you. You know who you are.

23. A song that you cannot stand to listen to. "Friday" by that 13 yr internet sensation. I'm not going to even link it. You are not my friend if you sing it around me.

24. A song that you have danced to with a best friend. "Baby One More Time," Britney Spears. And yes, there was choreography.

25. A song you can listen to all day without getting tired of. Currently, it's "Liquor Store Blues," Bruno Mars. Or maybe it's the "Crazy" cover by Ray Lamontagne....OR perhaps "Murder in the City," The Avett Brothers...or "Split Screen Sadness," John Mayer, ooh ooh OR...."D'Artagnan's Theme," Citizen Cope