(no subject)
Today I went in to start my new internship at the Robert Kennedy Memorial Center for Human Rights in DC. I'm going to be working with the Coalition for Immokalee workers, the group of farmworkers that got Taco Bell to pay one more penny per pound of tomatoes they buy so that workers would recieve a living wage. It's pretty cool stuff, and the organization does absolutely amazing work, and the girl I'm working with is one of the most intelligent and politcally savvy people I've ever met in my life. I've found my distaste for sweatshop labor and need for business attire somewhat incompatible, but I'll figure it out. Or I'll sell out. Ah, sacrificing values in the name of career advancement. It's all a part of growing up!
Speaking of which, I'm the only non-legal intern (the only undergrad) and thus miss out on the fun stuff they do because I'm not 21. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life, because empirical evidence provided by this past week suggests that I have no friends. Few that are under 21, at least. If anyone knows where to get a fake ID, please, throw me a bone! I'm a lonely soul! I can't even find anyone to go to a bluegrass concert with me. Wah wah wah.I guess I better get used to it, it looks like for the next few years my social life is going to be characterized by flying away from people I love every few months.
So, the bizarre thing is that I have walked in on an extremely reputable organization in its most dramatic point of crisis: the Board, who have apparently been following the extremely effective "party gala party, shmooze mingle milk" fundraising model, have suddenly come forth with a plethora of pink slips and severance packages because the philanthropic well is bone dry. So the Executive Director is pleading with foundations for support, which sounds absurd coming from an organization with "Kennedy" in the name--almost like a Rockefeller begging for spare change outside a 7-11. Thus, job security is at an all-time low and I may trade in my power suit for my birthday suit at Quaker camp.
Which would be fantastic! What a gift. The decision from there would be whether to work for my beloved and needy Opequon for eight weeks or work for the likewise desperate TA for five, as Jesse has coaxed me into considering. I would love either one, I'm sure. I guess with TA I would get to see the J-man himself more this summer. The non-relationship premise is complicated, but it nevertheless is always fun and fulfilling to spend time with someone you're crazy about. This weekend we saw the balloons and the fireworks at the inner harbor and spent Saturday with the eclectic bunch of actors and artists of a non-profit he is crafting. Rachel Stacy and Ursula came and tossed old chandeliers and stage lights and moldy costumes and the like into a dumpster. Which turns out is one of my favorite endeavors, it is almost as satisfying as a very good shit.
Amanda came to town last week - it was so wonderful to get to share my life with someone I love so much! We went to the Visionary Arts museum and ate crab cakes with Suzy, got a free dinner and gave a free dinner in Fells Point…Having her here made me realize even more what a small (and privileged) world I have grown up in. Particularly Gibson Island-that place always was always off its rocker, but now even the rocker is nowhere to be found. Everyone drives around in golf carts with little dogs and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a black person set foot on that Chesapeake soil. Gossip about people in rehab and whispers of pregnancy and marriage among my high school classmates are giving me the heebie-jeebies. Nevertheless, having her here made me realize how many people and things I adore about Baltimore-lying in the sun by Lake Roland made me grateful to be a pseudo-Hon. When she is around I can see more clearly the connection between my family’s values and the way I’ve turned out - I am messy and disoriented and because, well, who could turn out otherwise when one must scoot around a large contraption of four-by-fours and duct tape designed to hold up a towel rack just to go to the bathroom? I don’t think that my family spends our decent chunk of money in the normal conspicuous ways like designer clothes and big screen TVs-but we certainly aren’t pinching pennies. I can never come up with an adequate response to people’s exclamations about the pinball machine in our basement or the mammoth McMansions next door.
I can’t believe I’m not going to see Amanda for such a long time. I think that she and I are a good match - we have similar values but very different weaknesses, and thus teach each other how to be. Oh man. It was very difficult to leave Mac and all of those wonderful people without being sure if or when I’d see them again. Rose and Joe and Ben…God and so many others… Amanda and I went for a walk with Michael, my sledding buddy of old who has stuck around Towson. He’s still living in his Mom’s basement, but he’s really doing a great job making it as a musician with his band. He is really good at finding things that he likes and sticking with them. I think I am good at either finding things that I like or learning to love the things that I have and then jumping on an airplane and leaving them behind for new horizons and loves. I am far too sentimental for this lifestyle!
On Saturday, I didn’t mention, my cousin Trisha died. Vickie, her six-year-old daughter and her pride and joy and life and love, found her unconscious on Friday night and called 911. They really were two peas in a pod. There is no question that Trisha had some terrible luck, but she nevertheless was probably one of the cheeriest and most naturally caring people around, and losing her is far more difficult than anyone would have guessed. I hadn’t really kept in touch with her since I went to college, but she was the big girl in my life, she taught me how to swim and to count to three in French. Vickie is just as smiley and playful as her Mom, even now! If there is one thing I’m grateful for, it is that-Vickie still has that light in her eyes and will still make you pay a toll to her Ariel doll when you want to pass from the kitchen to the living room. There isn’t any way to describe how much we miss her, but then again, they say that the most painful things in life come from the sweetest.
Speaking of which, I'm the only non-legal intern (the only undergrad) and thus miss out on the fun stuff they do because I'm not 21. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life, because empirical evidence provided by this past week suggests that I have no friends. Few that are under 21, at least. If anyone knows where to get a fake ID, please, throw me a bone! I'm a lonely soul! I can't even find anyone to go to a bluegrass concert with me. Wah wah wah.I guess I better get used to it, it looks like for the next few years my social life is going to be characterized by flying away from people I love every few months.
So, the bizarre thing is that I have walked in on an extremely reputable organization in its most dramatic point of crisis: the Board, who have apparently been following the extremely effective "party gala party, shmooze mingle milk" fundraising model, have suddenly come forth with a plethora of pink slips and severance packages because the philanthropic well is bone dry. So the Executive Director is pleading with foundations for support, which sounds absurd coming from an organization with "Kennedy" in the name--almost like a Rockefeller begging for spare change outside a 7-11. Thus, job security is at an all-time low and I may trade in my power suit for my birthday suit at Quaker camp.
Which would be fantastic! What a gift. The decision from there would be whether to work for my beloved and needy Opequon for eight weeks or work for the likewise desperate TA for five, as Jesse has coaxed me into considering. I would love either one, I'm sure. I guess with TA I would get to see the J-man himself more this summer. The non-relationship premise is complicated, but it nevertheless is always fun and fulfilling to spend time with someone you're crazy about. This weekend we saw the balloons and the fireworks at the inner harbor and spent Saturday with the eclectic bunch of actors and artists of a non-profit he is crafting. Rachel Stacy and Ursula came and tossed old chandeliers and stage lights and moldy costumes and the like into a dumpster. Which turns out is one of my favorite endeavors, it is almost as satisfying as a very good shit.
Amanda came to town last week - it was so wonderful to get to share my life with someone I love so much! We went to the Visionary Arts museum and ate crab cakes with Suzy, got a free dinner and gave a free dinner in Fells Point…Having her here made me realize even more what a small (and privileged) world I have grown up in. Particularly Gibson Island-that place always was always off its rocker, but now even the rocker is nowhere to be found. Everyone drives around in golf carts with little dogs and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a black person set foot on that Chesapeake soil. Gossip about people in rehab and whispers of pregnancy and marriage among my high school classmates are giving me the heebie-jeebies. Nevertheless, having her here made me realize how many people and things I adore about Baltimore-lying in the sun by Lake Roland made me grateful to be a pseudo-Hon. When she is around I can see more clearly the connection between my family’s values and the way I’ve turned out - I am messy and disoriented and because, well, who could turn out otherwise when one must scoot around a large contraption of four-by-fours and duct tape designed to hold up a towel rack just to go to the bathroom? I don’t think that my family spends our decent chunk of money in the normal conspicuous ways like designer clothes and big screen TVs-but we certainly aren’t pinching pennies. I can never come up with an adequate response to people’s exclamations about the pinball machine in our basement or the mammoth McMansions next door.
I can’t believe I’m not going to see Amanda for such a long time. I think that she and I are a good match - we have similar values but very different weaknesses, and thus teach each other how to be. Oh man. It was very difficult to leave Mac and all of those wonderful people without being sure if or when I’d see them again. Rose and Joe and Ben…God and so many others… Amanda and I went for a walk with Michael, my sledding buddy of old who has stuck around Towson. He’s still living in his Mom’s basement, but he’s really doing a great job making it as a musician with his band. He is really good at finding things that he likes and sticking with them. I think I am good at either finding things that I like or learning to love the things that I have and then jumping on an airplane and leaving them behind for new horizons and loves. I am far too sentimental for this lifestyle!
On Saturday, I didn’t mention, my cousin Trisha died. Vickie, her six-year-old daughter and her pride and joy and life and love, found her unconscious on Friday night and called 911. They really were two peas in a pod. There is no question that Trisha had some terrible luck, but she nevertheless was probably one of the cheeriest and most naturally caring people around, and losing her is far more difficult than anyone would have guessed. I hadn’t really kept in touch with her since I went to college, but she was the big girl in my life, she taught me how to swim and to count to three in French. Vickie is just as smiley and playful as her Mom, even now! If there is one thing I’m grateful for, it is that-Vickie still has that light in her eyes and will still make you pay a toll to her Ariel doll when you want to pass from the kitchen to the living room. There isn’t any way to describe how much we miss her, but then again, they say that the most painful things in life come from the sweetest.