Chaos goes country

Last night we started out by going to a place called Rocky Flats, which is right across from where all the nuclear waste was dumped years ago. It's a classic dive bar in the middle of nowhere. A place to go when you are looking to enjoy the general awkwardness of it all. With a crew who revels in the idea of awkward to the point where it's comfortable, you can go just about anywhere and light up the place. We went to the back, grabbed a seat in the metal folding chairs, and ordered fried fish and cole slaw, accompanied with pitchers of Wisconsin beer, followed by owning the jukebox with Allman Brothers, John Prine and Janis Joplin. It was fabulous. It felt like Lobsterfest on a much smaller scale, minus the spilt wine and live music. And now that I have figured out this picture thing, you can take a peek at our little crew of dive bar fanatics...



We then decided to head to The Grizzly Rose in Denver. What an AMAZing idea that turned out to be.

I did something I thought I would never do...

I line danced.

And I loved it.

I felt slightly out of place in my polka dotted shirt and argile sneakers, but I will be better prepared next time. And I can't wait for that next time.

The place was huge, and filled with cowboys and cowgirls of all ages. The dance floor was filled with the line dancers in the middle, and the two-steppers circling the outside. There is something just fabulous about being in step with 20 other people to a man with a mustache belting out over his twangy guitar chords. I took to following one girl who seemed to have it down, but kept it simple. She noticed me watching her and tripping over my own feet and spinning in circles to keep up with the hops and shuffles that were coming too fast for my east coast, booty shaking tendencies. She laughed and started counting off for me, and soon enough, I found myself falling into step behind her, and feeling like I was ready to shove thumbs into belt loops and start throwin some hips into it.

We also ventured over to the mechanical bull, where I eagerly took the lead and jumped up on it...only to be thrown back off it shortly after. But hey, I went gracefully.

Riiight.

I guess this is what happens when you hang with Oklahoma and Louisiana in Colorado.



I was then coerced into learning two-step...which sounds simple right? Two steps, then one, then two. Well, I've never been that great with numbers, and something wasn't adding up for me and equaled out to me stepping all over Micah's feet. Eventually I just hopped on and he took me for a ride around the floor. It could have been the height, the large steps, or simply my inability to count, dance, and laugh at the same time. But "gliding" was not in my understanding last night.



So now I have found a new challenge. I shall find some cowboy boots, perhaps a hat, and start throwing some style down in the line.

Yea. I'll keep ya posted on that one.

Reasons why I love my job

It's 6:15 a.m. I have been up and at work since 12:30 a.m. And no, this is not a reason why I love my job, this is just an intro. Relax.

One reason that I DO like being here at the absolute crack of dawn, is because I am sitting at the computer in North boulder, that faces directly east. I get to see the most amazing sunrise come up over the frighteningly flat Kansas. I finally remembered my camera, so check THIS out...








People here make me laugh, and I love to laugh, therefore, I love my job. Becky and I were doing a round through the men's emergency dorm, where all you can see is and endless row of bunks, and tops of heads floating in and out of them. One of the residents made the not so unusual comment of "Why do you guys work here anyway?" And before we could both respond with the usual "because I want to" we were interrupted by a squirrelly voice rising from a floating head somewhere that said, "Because you all wanna be capitalist pigs just like everyone else." This voice belongs to a man named Art, and if you knew who Art was, this would be even more comical. He is a small, scruffy old man with the voice of a cartoon character. Becky and I both quickly made our exit and burst into laughter. It's not everyday anyone can just yell that out from behind a row of disheveled bunk beds, and it be o.k.

I got another chuckle yesterday when I came across a flyer that one of the residents must have posted. Scott is trying to produce a newsletter about homelessness, and was asking for any of the residents to submit poetry, essays or any kind of art work to it. When he is describing what its all about in the flyer, the word "homelessness" was scribbled on each time it was used. The "less" was crossed out and "free" was scribbled in above it. Homefreeness. haha. I love it.

Then of course, a Colby story. He tells me yesterday that he is all excited because he is going to visit his daughter and granddaughter in Denver. So this morning, he gets up super early, gets his coffee and tells me he has to clean up and get some new clothes on. An hour or so later, Colby reappears in front of me looking sharp. He asks, "does my hair look o.k.? I combed it over, see? Do I look cleaned up?" And, in fact, he did. So he is someone's grandpa, and he is not lost. I am starting to wonder if he removed himself on purpose, if it is his choice or his daughters choice that he live on the streets of Boulder, when they are only 40 minutes away. The more I know, the less I understand.

One of my other favorite moments, was when Becky came bursting into the kitchen laughing hysterically. She explained to me that Cliff has just asked her to move a paper clip that was lying on the ground. When she went to pick it up, he said "no, no...with your mind." Cliff wanted her to help him levitate the paper clip off of the floor. She declined. Then we laughed, because again, not your every day job assignment.

There is a crow the size of a cat outside the door right now. Maybe I'm becoming delusional. It's quite possible. Two donuts, two teas, and one coffee later, I think I have resigned control of my mind to outside forces.

What does that sentence even mean... I'm done.

Not a victim of various forces

"It might be true that there are six billion people in this world, and counting, but nevertheless -what you do makes a difference. It makes a difference, first of all, in material terms, to other people, and it sets an example. In short, I think the message here is that we should never write ourselves off or see eachother as a victim of various forces. It's always our descision who we are."

Always.

Always our decision.

I'm finding that I am more and more comfortable with that. I love the possiblity of being molded, of learning new things, and taking them on or letting them go. I have met some amazing people out here, again. Some people that remind me of the incredible crew I have in Bristol, or the all the lovely friends I met in Australia, or all the people that got me through college. I've been learning a lot from everyone, all over again. Some are from Louisiana, some are from Michigan, Oklahoma, Nevada, Maryland, Texas, others from right here in Boulder. Somehow we have all landed here, and are lives collide for the time being.

I spent one night last week at Happy Hour with two of the girls who I have come to absolutely adore and my roommate Katie, and we talked over cheap food and beers for hours. We were practically in tears from laughing, shouting over each other, and ranking on each other for all the rediculous mistakes we've made or places we've come from. Everyone has their stories, everyone has their means of getting by. (We all happen to be on the same extremely low-budget-will-i-make-it-next-month plan, haha).

It's meeting everyone from such different backgrounds and lifestyles that keeps life so new and refreshing. It drives me to want to learn, to know everything about everywhere and everyone...and the fact that that is impossible, is even more exciting. There is just an endless supply of things to challenge yourself with.

One big one that is starting to weigh in on me, is religion. It's been on the back burner for me for quite some time now, and I feel like its starting to become something I need and want to address. I went to a potluck last night with some of the crew from the shelter and their friends, and we got into a religious based conversation. One side being very religious and loyal to the church, and the other side being a self-proclaimed athiest, a believer of science. The rest of us just kind of hovered somewhere in the middle as our eyes bounced back and forth from one side of the discussion to the other. But it did make me realize, that it is something i want to have a stand on, and a better understanding of what I believe. This is project number one.

Project number two, is self-education via Library card. I have not yet figured out why I have waited so long to get a library card again, because now that I do, I am blown away by what it has to offer. It is an endless supply of resources, for free, it's to bad it took me to be flat broke to finally zone in on this.
This project arises because of my interest and conusion on the whole topic of going back to school. I know i want Social Work, I know this is what i want to do, no doubt in my mind or heart. It's just a matter of...what kind of program, where, when, how...is it necessary?? In the meantime, I do not want to be at a standstill. My ignorance was reaffirmed the other night when I made a statement alng the lines of "Jared is schizofrenic." And my friend and co-worker politely corrected me, informing me that someone is not "schizofrenic", because that is labeling them as the disease, implying that the disease has become them and that is who they are, but that someone "has schizofrenia." It is something that affects them, not something they become.
So I've decided, its time to hit the books on my own for now. The same friend who corrected me, also reccomended a book I should be reading called, "Sidewalk." Its about the men in NYC who live and work as the street vendors, and the role they play in society as a whole. I'm intrigued.


Either way, I realize, this is exactly why I crave this sort of thing...this taking off to new places and adventure and challenging myself. I just feel there is so much more I need and want to learn about...well...everything. Because it is our decision who we are, and there is a lot out there that we could be.

Just to get by

NEWS FLASH: Lauren quit her job at L'Absinthe.
NEWS UPDATE: Lauren is learning quite well the art of "just getting by".

That's right. I quit. On the spot. No notice. No other job lined up. Just done.
Of course that was never my intention. I will have all of you know that I had full responsible intentions to land another job, and then give my two weeks, like an adult.
Then I realized what "adults" I was dealing with. And I came to the conclusion, they certainly have never been, and especially now, were not worth my respect. I mean, how many times can you tell an employee that they're not needed, or that they've been replaced, before said employee gracefully says "Fine, I'm just gonna go now then."

Anyway, back to the job search, and the intense scrambling for shifts at the shelter. We're all "jobless", we're all starved for more hours, and we're all dancing on that line of part-time, full-time, no-time.

And you know what? I'm not one bit stressed. I've suprised myself even. I've been waiting for that familiar weight to settle in...that pressure to have a plan. That pressure to have an answer.

And well, that weights just not coming. I am not saying that I am not aware that I have rent to pay, or bills to pay, or a life to lead responsibly. I am fully aware of where I stand. And that I am still standing.

I'm back to the same job searching, the same rejection, the same realizing that a college degree means nothing unless you are specifically applying in the realm of your particular degree. And I mean, who does that?

INSERT OPINIONATED MOMENT OF PREACHING HERE: 18 is too young to go to college. No one knows what they want at 18. (I use "no one" for dramatics only, I know thats a generalization) We go in, and we are expected to choose a "direction" to take our life, in between the time we're learning how to take care of a roommate who is spending the night with the toilet and how to convince your RA that your back pack really is full of books. It's too young. They tell you that you can wait until your junior year to declare a major. What they don't tell you, is that if you wait until junior year, you won't be graduating until 6 years later. What they don't tell you is that, once you are finished, you will receive a piece of paper that says "YAY, you made it!" and then they will shove their boot up your college-grad pants to send you out into what you will find to be...a world full of far "more experienced" candidates.

I'm really not as bitter as that sounds. Most of the time.

I lucked out with the shelter. It is still beyond me why I was hired, but I couldn't be happier.
I was lucky enough to throw elbows, and pick up some shifts this week. I'm working almost a consecutive week, and its paying off. I am extremely comfortable, I am getting to know the residents and they are getting to know me. I am feeling that favoritism shine through though. Some of them just absolutely win your heart. There is one old man, Colby, who I just absolutely adore. He walks slightly hunched over with a cane in hand, and is usually all bundled up in his hat, scarf, and mittens. He talks with an accent straight out of an old black and white film. Last night during the lottery to get in, he pulled a 145...out of 160. Which means he will for sure be one of the last to go in, and thats even if he makes it in at all. I kept looking over at him standing there, quietly, and patiently in the cold. While other complained and whined about how unfair the lottery is, and about how they're too old for the cold, or all their handicaps that hurt worse in this weather. Colby finally waddled over to me and quietly asked "Do you think I have a chance of getting in tonight?" There is no way I could put this man out in the cold. We were told in training that if you ever feel like someone may deserve a bed no matter what number they pulled, to go ahead and do that. So I did, I called Colby in with the next group. Right before he went in, he mentioned to me how he has cancer and that he just can't hold up the way he used to.

I feel like screaming, IS ANYONES GRANDFATHER MISSING?! Have you lost your Grandpa today? Is there a Poppy that you've misplaced? Is there a Pup, or a Pop, or a Papa that disappeared recently?

But I don't. I just find him at dinner and sit down to chat about how "it was a beautiful day" he says, and how "this dinner is delicious" and how "someone up there blessed him again today." And I have to peel my heart of my sleeve and go about my night. You never quite know how these people end up where they are. And you can't dwell on it.

I can dwell on that fact that I love it, and that there is nothing more rewarding than this. There is nothing more perfect for me. And I will continue to "just get by" if it means that I can be on the ground, with people, feeling the rawness of life every day.