Monday, June 18, 2012

Being a Big Girl

Number one being a big girl task: having a job. As an only mildly big girl, it took me about a month of my summer to successfully locate a summer job. I work as a lifeguard at one of the sketchiest pools ever in one of the sketchiest neighborhoods ever, for one of the sketchiest companies ever. It's fine, I like it. It has, however, been quite the adventure. So my boss hired me without me even really applying. I told him I was certified and he asked me to work the next day. I was desperate for a job and signed up. I was supposed to work three days a week with some occasional extra shifts for the rest of the summer. That sounded pretty good to me. I have now been working there two weeks, and the world has been turned upside-down. It's a little weird because, technically, I am employed by a pool management company, but the leasing office of the apartment complex the pool is in are also sort of my bosses. Unfortunately these two parties do not communicate super well which leaves us guards mostly confused about the rules, goings on, and our employment status. So, less than a week after I started work, the pool operator was fired for something she didn't do. (Don't get me wrong, she wasn't great at her job and I'm not crying over her loss, but if they can fire her on a blatant lie, what can they do to me?) The next day, my boss (without having told me about this woman's being fired, I found that out on my own through other grapevines) called me up saying "Oh, by the way, you now work six days a week," aka every day the pool is open for the entire day. Wait a second. Excuse me, you want me to work 50 hours a week because you wrongfully fired someone and you expect me to skip church all summer when summer is the only time I am home and can actually go. That's not really going to work for me, buddy. Fortunately, I know some other only moderately employed individuals that are certified lifeguards and called one up. He is generously willing to take two shifts and we found another guy (who I'll meet for the first time tomorrow) to take two. Well, yay, now I only work five days a week. Not really the summer I planned, but hopefully they'll actually pay me the time-and-a-half I deserve. Have officially sucked it up and put on my big girl swimsuit. 

Monday, June 11, 2012


I would say that I have a pretty small family, and I don't think I would say that we are super close, but I'm coming to realize that means I get to be really close with a few people, and I get to have a lot of extra family. My immediate family is my mom and dad, but al four of my grandparents live within five miles of me and I see them frequently. My mom has one brother by which I have two cousins, an ex-aunt, and and aunt. My dad has two sisters, plus I have those two uncles and five cousins. But I am amazingly blessed ro have a lovely family that isn't my blood. My grandma's college roommate, Meg, has been an integrated part of my family since before my mom was born. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving is spent with her and her family; her sons have essentially been brothers to my mom and uncles to me. A few years ago at church we casually declared that one of my best friends and I were god-siblings. I have an aunt for whom's mother my grandma was a Hospice volunteer. She actually even asked permission to be a part of the family and now joins us for almost all of our holidays. I have at least two, if not nine, fabulous sisters who are all best friends. I have a new friend at school that has become as good as a brother. Today, I officially got permission to refer to two little boys that have been family friends since before they born my nephews. My little family doesn't look so little. 

Monday, June 4, 2012


I have never in my life spent a night in my house alone. The first time I ever spent the night anywhere alone I was housesitting for family friends from church who fondly (sort of) call the row house next door the "house of ill repute" because of the working girls they apparently see there. That night was rather surreal between the sleep deprivation, fried oreo coma, bamboo sheets, and Their Eyes Were Watching God recording. I was watching the cats Gordon and Weaver, and the greyhound Bea (short for Beast). I can still count on my fingers the number of nights I've spent alone, now at three different houses none of which are my own. Then I headed to college where you are never alone...ever...ever. I came back and pretty soon was housesitting and alone again. I won't say I don't get kind of nervous when I hear funky noises, because I definitely do, but I'm also not uncomfortable. But I was laying in bed in an empty house this Saturday and realized I don't know that that will ever feel right. I suppose I've always just (reasonably) assumed that I'd always have roommates until I was living with a significant other (which, let's be real, is just a vamped up roommate). I don't feel like I ever want to live completely alone, and then, thinking that, I realized I don't think I want to get to the end of my life and find I've never lived alone. I suppose it's one of the bridges I'll cross when I come upon it, but for now it's a strange thought. I don't think people really plan for the intermediate future. I plan for the immediate future...right now I am going to school and getting internships and working. And I plan for the distant in some modern apartment in a foreign city with someone I love. But what goes between here and there? No one really seems to think about that.