Locker Rooms & Childhood Trauma

Yesterday was the first time I've ever changed openly/unabashedly in a locker room.

1996: I was the first girl in my elementary school class to start wearing a bra - naturally, being different was awful, so I would change in the bathroom stall instead of out in the open with the other girls before gym so they wouldn't see my shame. I was a shy kid anyway, add in being a busty 4th grader and you've got a problem. I also remember being visibly aware of the size of my thighs in 4th grade. Thanks America, for my girlhood lack of self-confidence.

Then, in the 6th grade ... came Chantal K. Because I changed in the stall before gym, she started a rumor that I didn't wear underwear. I can't even begin to tell you how traumatic this was. (Not to mention nonsensical, but that is only something I see now.) I can't even remember what I did to remedy the problem (it must have been blocked from my memory) but somehow I survived middle school with Chantal K. My imagination takes solace in the fact that she's fat now.

High school: even while playing field hockey, I changed in private and didn't dare flaunt my body around the other 'slim and trim all-girls school athlete' types. College: I never necessarily dropped trou confidently in front of my roommates, but I began to get used to the idea of sharing bathrooms - thanks to Ally, Pais and Lana chasing me out of the public restroom down the hall from our room where I went why I was feeling shy.

Maybe it all changed last summer when I went to Hawaii with my best friends and literally ran around in a bikini for 8 days without a care in the world. Since then, I've been tons more comfy in my own skin. But I still wasn't ready to bear all to my peers at the gym.

Fast forward to yesterday. I left the LMU library and brought a change of clothes to the gym. For some reason, I didn't head to the stalls to change out of my dress. I set up camp in the middle of the locker room and did the damn thing. It was liberating.

What does this mean in the grand scheme of life? Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing. But it's a good story, eh?

Sucks.

My grandma died today. It's kinda hard to study :(

I didn't know her (physically) - she lived in Poland my whole life and I only met her once when I was a baby. But my mom diligently sent her money my whole life, talked to her on the phone several times a week, and constantly talked to me about her. I called her Babcia, Polish for grandma. I knew a couple phrases in Polish and would embarrassingly say them to her on the phone when forced to by my mom.

What I did know is that she was a woman of extraordinary faith - a woman who saw her husband and two sons die before her and still have strong faith that God was watching out over her family. Every time I've talked on the phone with my mom in Michigan, she always mentions that "Babcia is praying for you" - whether it be for a job, for my grades, for a husband (!) or for general good favor, my mom told Babcia everything about me.

I just feel awful that I can't be there for my mom, who is now "the only one left" of her immediate family. But my dad is out of work for her, and I know he will be there to comfort her in the coming time.

It just sucks.

When depositing $7.50 into your bank account doesn't put your balance over single-digits...

... just saying.

Shameless - Songs with my name in them

I've heard the Four Tops and Paul Simon songs - but I just discovered these.

Eric Hutchinson

The Kinks


It's pretty obvious I'm an inspiration to millions.

Three things I'm scared of at the moment

1. Becoming "better than you" - I already feel a small twinge of this sentiment when I explain what I am doing this next year. "What do you do?" "Oh, I'm spending this next year volunteering in South LA in low-income housing." Appreciative murmurs commence.

2. Becoming downtrodden by what I see. (Listen to this song)

3. Not becoming downtrodden by what I see, i.e. working mainly in the office and not getting to know the names/faces/stories of the community.

And it is decided.

Heavens to Betsy, yesterday was the perfect day of unemployment. Gym, beach, Chipotle, watched Mad Men, nap, three beers and a night on the town with Charlie. Well, I better live it up while I can ... because it's all going to be over soon. (Note my greatest achievement of the past three months: my epic tan lines from time at the beach).


That's right, I officially have a purpose in life after three months of being a drain on society. For the next year, I will be a volunteer with Americorps VISTA, working in South LA with the LA County Community Development Commission. There's still SO much I need to learn, but essentially, I will be working with the residents of low-income housing to better assess their needs - say the seniors need a better food program or want to start a gardening club. I will also be in charge of all the volunteers that help with the programs, so I will be visiting colleges like UCLA, USC and LMU pretty frequently to make presentations and get student volunteers.

And, a really exciting part of all this is that I will be living at Ascension Catholic Church and School (right near the 105/110 interchange) in an old convent (!) that was renovated to house 11 volunteers from different programs. So I will be living in an undoubtedly amazing community.

I'm really excited about this next year. For one, it will be a great experience before graduate school (which I honestly get more excited for each time I think about) and will help direct me with exactly what I want to pursue when getting my MSW. I'm sure it's going to be a challenging year - emotionally, mentally, fiscally (living in LA on about $500/month!). But I'm totally excited :)

Virtual pound.

How marvelous does this look??!

Thoughts on 2.5 months of Unemployment.

Mind you, I'm writing this immediately after a nap - thoughts may be hazy. By the way, naps are one of the perks of Unemployment.

I have been unemployed for 53 days. This is the longest period of time I've "done nothing" in my life. Since I was 16, I've worked in addition to school. In college, I usually had three jobs at a time, plus 5 classes per semester. I was raised to be a workhorse and it suited me well. I started working the week after I graduated college, and stayed there for a year. Until I realized I was not happy. And I knew I needed to be somewhere else (read: graduate school, working for a nonprofit).

At bars, I've often planned on getting 'I graduated college, quit my job, have no money and no plan' drunk. (It never happened. I'm too cheap to get that kind of drunk). When my roommate with two jobs would come home at the end of the day and eye me suspiciously, I would retort, "Yes, Adam. It's a 'sit in bed, drink wine and be bra-less' kind of day." Yes, I have gotten a lot of time in at the beach. Yes, I generally sit at Tanner's coffeeshop for 3-4 hours, researching jobs, graduate school programs, and studying for the GRE. I've gone on roadtrips in the middle of the week, spent hours and hours with my best friends, watched neighborhood little league games, read a bunch of books and watched a lot of Oprah.

I guess you could say it's been a vacation, but does a normal vacation consist of constantly worrying about money, GRE scores, health insurance, classes to take to get into grad school, pleasing my parents, and the ever-elusive "future"?

It hasn't been that much of a vacation. I just feel like I'm in a really, really long weekend, dreading that Monday I know is coming - and for me, "Monday" means getting shit figured out.

Monday, where are you?

For some reason

I thought it was necessary to share with you everything that is inside my purse at this moment. Enjoy.