A few nights ago Sassy had an appointment and I hung out with her kids while she was out. I was running a bit late to get to her house so I was kind of frazzled after making apologies and saying goodbye, the kids and I settled into a night of fun. They drew pictures, watched "Friday" on my phone (it is just so awesomely bad and it takes the right kind of kid to know that!), and played a few board games.
While playing Don't Break the Ice, I pulled out an orange and Sassy's daughter said "Hey! That's not fair!" I was like "Why? Did you guys want some of my orange?" I cut it up thinking about how the kids were comfortable enough to call me on my rudeness-- I should have offered them some. I gave them orange slices which they shoved in their mouths and smiled at me. We continued playing our game and moved onto Othello. I have never played Othello before and Sassy's son taught me. It is a fun game and I had a blast with the kids, but am unsure if an 8 year old's interpretation of the rules will do me any good when playing with adults. (Note to self: have a peer teach me Othello) While his sister and I were playing he asked for dessert. Because I am the world's best sitter, I looked at the clocked (25 minutes before bedtime) and realized that the next day they didn't have school and I said "Sure." They each grabbed a package of those Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and munched happily while we finished the game.
When the time came, they got ready for bed, we read stories and I tucked them in. Sassy came home about an hour later and we hung out for a bit. We were sitting at the kitchen table having a snack and I told her about our night and the kids calling me on my rudeness with the orange. "They ate an orange?" She said, "they never eat oranges for me!" That was when she asked what the kids had for dinner. With what I am sure face a face full of bewilderment, I asked "Umm..didn't you feed them?" This is usually the part of the night where Child Protective Services is called and I am locked up fro malnourishment of minors. Fortunately for me, Sassy is super cool and listens while I explain that they never told me they were hungry and they just asked for dessert and I gave them swiss rolls. "Did you make them share a package?" My lack of eye contact answered her question. I am on fire, Terre Haute, call me for your child care needs!
Just when I thought all hope was lost and I would be looking for new friends, Sassy just cracked up laughing and I joined in. We laughed for a very long times about kids that most likely went to bed hungry under my care. I went home that night comforted by the fact that although her kids might wake up in the morning completely ravenous, she would still be my friend.
The next morning, I received the following text messages from Sassy:
message 1: First word: We had swiss rolls for dinner.
message 2: If u don't know what swiss rolls are, it sounds ok.
Call 1.800.BABYSIT for quality child care and be sure to request me.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Fine! I didn't want to feed you anyway!
Yesterday I had the opportunity to do a service project with some local teenagers. We made and delivered boxes of food for Thanksgiving to families in need. I had to deliver the boxes to the avenues. The avenues are in a less desirable part of town and let's just say that the people that live there are not open to diversity. I have said it before, I don't see many people of color in Terre Haute and even though we have a black president, I am well aware racism isn't dead...people just hide it better.
After completely getting lost I arrived at my first house and knocked on the door. Dogs started barking and after a few seconds they were shushed and I saw curtains move out of the corner of my eye. I waited for the resident to open to door...and then waited some more. I knocked again, the dogs barked again and were shushed again and still no one came to the door. I held back my frustration as I made my way back to car and figured out what to do next but all I could do was sit in my car and cry.
I was sick to my stomach by what had just happened and thought maybe I should have brought the food with me to the door and maybe she would have answered. That way I could have spent the rest of my day unaware of the hate someone had for me just because of the color of my skin. That, I knew would just be putting a band aid in a problem that existed long before I moved to Terre Haute and long before I was born. Instead of dwelling in this, I left a note letting them know who to call to arrange to pick up their basket though I really wanted to let them now where they could go.
This wasn't the first time something like this has happened since I have been here. The most recent time when I was signing up for a class with my friend Sassy and she was asked for her information to join a birthday club. When it was my turn, the lady took my payment for the class and was ready to send me on my way and when I asked about the birthday club she looked at me like I asked to borrow her toothbrush and said "I guess you can" and reluctantly handed over a pen. I thought I'd imagined that, but Sassy shot me look letting me know she was equally shocked and disgusted by what had taken place. Instead of crying about something like that, Sassy and I cracked up over the cashier's ignorance.
Sadly, the tears I cried in my car were not the only tears I cried over this lady and her family and I hated that because I know racist don't deserve my tears, only my pity. It is a shame that woman and her family robbed themselves of the opportunity to see me for more than my color and eventually they will see that they are missing out on more than just their Thanksgiving dinner.
After completely getting lost I arrived at my first house and knocked on the door. Dogs started barking and after a few seconds they were shushed and I saw curtains move out of the corner of my eye. I waited for the resident to open to door...and then waited some more. I knocked again, the dogs barked again and were shushed again and still no one came to the door. I held back my frustration as I made my way back to car and figured out what to do next but all I could do was sit in my car and cry.
I was sick to my stomach by what had just happened and thought maybe I should have brought the food with me to the door and maybe she would have answered. That way I could have spent the rest of my day unaware of the hate someone had for me just because of the color of my skin. That, I knew would just be putting a band aid in a problem that existed long before I moved to Terre Haute and long before I was born. Instead of dwelling in this, I left a note letting them know who to call to arrange to pick up their basket though I really wanted to let them now where they could go.
This wasn't the first time something like this has happened since I have been here. The most recent time when I was signing up for a class with my friend Sassy and she was asked for her information to join a birthday club. When it was my turn, the lady took my payment for the class and was ready to send me on my way and when I asked about the birthday club she looked at me like I asked to borrow her toothbrush and said "I guess you can" and reluctantly handed over a pen. I thought I'd imagined that, but Sassy shot me look letting me know she was equally shocked and disgusted by what had taken place. Instead of crying about something like that, Sassy and I cracked up over the cashier's ignorance.
Sadly, the tears I cried in my car were not the only tears I cried over this lady and her family and I hated that because I know racist don't deserve my tears, only my pity. It is a shame that woman and her family robbed themselves of the opportunity to see me for more than my color and eventually they will see that they are missing out on more than just their Thanksgiving dinner.
Friday, November 18, 2011
My First Kill
My hands are still shaking as I write this. I never thought I would be a murderer, but all it takes is one kill. I took a life and I kept going with the shock and sadness sitting inside me. I screamed out loud once I started to process my actions and I called my sister right away. Upon hearing the sadness in my voice, she became concerned and the was when I made my confession. “Misha,” I said, “I killed a squirrel.” And while I was struggling to hold back tears she laughed out loud. OUT LOUD! "I think you will be fine,” she said. I knew I wouldn't and I explained that to her. I saw the squirrel run in front of my car when it was too late to swerve and I felt my car roll over the poor creature and I am so sad that because of me, it won't make it home. She listened, sighed and told me if I still feel bad in the morning that I should turn myself in. Jerk.
I have seen a good share of roadkill in my life and have even driven over a squirrel carcass or two, but this was different. In the city, our squirrels are street smart, they know not to run out into the street. They were happy to stay on the sidewalk where it is safe and I would not be surprised to see one cross at the light! In Terre Haute, these squirrels act like they have no cares in the world. They just run across roads putting our lives in their hands and trusting us humans not to murder them.. No wonder there is so much roadkill in this town.
The adventurous side of me knows that I ran across state lines without a care in the world to this town. In my city, I knew where I could go to stay safe and when I could make a move. In Terre Haute, I don't know where safe is and I have spent the last few months completely freaked about getting run over that I haven't yet bothered to cross the street. I spend my free time in my apartment or on my friend Sassy's couch. She was the only person I knew when I moved here and we became fast friends. As much as I love the friend I have found in her, Sassy can't be the only person I have here. I am a little nervous that I might be rejected for being so different that I will not only get run over, but my assailants will keep moving with no regard for me and the life I am starting here.
It was that poor squirrel that took a risk, no matter how unsuccessful, that the key to surviving life here may be knowing when and where it safe to cross, but I should also take a chance. I feel that for others the initial excitement of my newness is starting to wear off and my “big city” way of thinking and doing is less exciting and for me, I am beginning to see others for who they are during our interactions and it is starting to feel they are getting in my way. I think part of it is that they don't really understand me and I haven't been open to them knowing who I am. I have been a bit guarded, stubborn and afraid to get hit that I have been unwilling to open my eyes long enough to see if where I am is a safe place to cross.
Terre Haute is my new city and it is up to me to make it safe for myself. As much as I miss my hometown, I realize it is up to me to figure out how to open myself up a bit more to what this town has to over and take more risks...well smarter risks than that poor squirrel. So now I have goals: To take risks, find where safe is and to cross the street once in a while while praying someone doesn't come barrelling down the road at the absolute wrong time.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Thrifty Retail Therapy
Ok, so I moved here a little over two months ago and while I have been trying to find my way around and find things to do that are me I have been clinging to my old standard of thrift store shopping. I should let you know that I love thrift stores! I firmly believe that in today's economical and ecological climate, thrift stores will be our saving grace and as a green reccesionista I make a point to seek out a good thrift store whenever I go out of town and now whenever I move to a different town. Thrift stores are all the same but different and going into a thrift store allows me to feel less intimidated with a new place because you kind of already know what to expect when you walk in. You know you are going to find more than a few ugly sweaters, lamps, old furniture and if you're lucky that hideously cool, awesomely bad piece of art that you might just be able to make work.
When I first moved here I was overwhelmed. Terre Haute was nothing like the metropolis I come from. You have to drive if you want to get anywhere, I rarely see anyone of color and worst of all...the nearest Target is an hour away! So, for the first few weeks when I felt like I was going to burst into tears over this huge life change, and in response to the advice a friend who told me to find something to do that made me still feel like me I drove to one of the thrift stores in town and got lost in the racks of clothing and shelves full of tchotckes. I am embarrassed to admit that within the first month of my being here I visited a thrift store at least 5 times a week and I have a lot of random hideously cool things to show for it (e.g. my ceramic blue victorian boot in my bathroom that holds my makeup brushes)!
Last night I was feeling overwhelmed. I had a long day at work and it looks like the first big project that I got to be a part of might be cut. After my meeting, I drove to what I have to say is the most shoppable Goodwill I have been to in my life (600 South Third St. Terre Haute, IN) and engaged in some retail therapy...reccesionista style! After going through the racks and finding beautiful sweaters and skirts and two beautiful vintage coats I feel much better and the $32 I paid for all of it cost a whole hell of a lot less than a shrink!
To answer your question, yes. I am well aware that buying other people's cast offs won't help me cope with the fact I up and moved to Indiana and the reasons I felt I had to leave (that, my friends, is another post!), but I know that for now it is really great to feel like I can still do things that make me fell like myself as I adjust to this town. This new adventure of mine seemed a lot less strange when I formed a temporary friendship with the lady looking at coats next to me. The sting of the newness of things is quelled just a bit when I feel like I have won because some lady's old coat fits my body and my personality just right. Thrift stores are a constant in life that serve to remind you someone has been there before. That someone had the same taste as you, the same body type as you or maybe even the same zany sense of humor as you and that is when you start to feel a little less alone in this world.
I may not exactly be appreciative of all of the things in my life now, but I do appreciate the sense of solidarity I feel with the super hip chick that donated the electric blue knit coat and I encourage her to continued support of Goodwill's mission.
When I first moved here I was overwhelmed. Terre Haute was nothing like the metropolis I come from. You have to drive if you want to get anywhere, I rarely see anyone of color and worst of all...the nearest Target is an hour away! So, for the first few weeks when I felt like I was going to burst into tears over this huge life change, and in response to the advice a friend who told me to find something to do that made me still feel like me I drove to one of the thrift stores in town and got lost in the racks of clothing and shelves full of tchotckes. I am embarrassed to admit that within the first month of my being here I visited a thrift store at least 5 times a week and I have a lot of random hideously cool things to show for it (e.g. my ceramic blue victorian boot in my bathroom that holds my makeup brushes)!
Last night I was feeling overwhelmed. I had a long day at work and it looks like the first big project that I got to be a part of might be cut. After my meeting, I drove to what I have to say is the most shoppable Goodwill I have been to in my life (600 South Third St. Terre Haute, IN) and engaged in some retail therapy...reccesionista style! After going through the racks and finding beautiful sweaters and skirts and two beautiful vintage coats I feel much better and the $32 I paid for all of it cost a whole hell of a lot less than a shrink!
To answer your question, yes. I am well aware that buying other people's cast offs won't help me cope with the fact I up and moved to Indiana and the reasons I felt I had to leave (that, my friends, is another post!), but I know that for now it is really great to feel like I can still do things that make me fell like myself as I adjust to this town. This new adventure of mine seemed a lot less strange when I formed a temporary friendship with the lady looking at coats next to me. The sting of the newness of things is quelled just a bit when I feel like I have won because some lady's old coat fits my body and my personality just right. Thrift stores are a constant in life that serve to remind you someone has been there before. That someone had the same taste as you, the same body type as you or maybe even the same zany sense of humor as you and that is when you start to feel a little less alone in this world.
I may not exactly be appreciative of all of the things in my life now, but I do appreciate the sense of solidarity I feel with the super hip chick that donated the electric blue knit coat and I encourage her to continued support of Goodwill's mission.
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