The Mutt Mix

Retrieving Me

2010-10-20T23:50:00.005-04:00

I have let this blog go and shifted to writing exclusively on my family blog. I guess when I consider my life right now that is pretty appropriate. After Teddy was born it seems like I have tunnel vision and all I see are his pretty blue eyes at the end. But as many great women have come to realize we all have a need for self. How else will I be able to define who I am when Teddy inevitably "leaves the nest." This is my new struggle. I have been rescued from the clutching claws of DC and the monotony of making sandwiches and given an opportunity to decide who I want to be. No pressure, a few restrictions, but for the first time a lot of freedom.

So here I sit. I am already a mother, partner, daughter, friend, and sister, but still I need to be more. I need to put my foot on the floor of capital to truly be someone. Or at least someone worth knowing. When I tell people I stay home and raise my son, they say "oh that must be nice." Like a trip to Fiji or some other tropical paradise. Or alternatively they respond with "what are you planning to do once your son is of school age?" I really want to respond, "Nothing, just sit and stare at walls." I mean other than the money that can be made entering the workforce, what would I actually gain that I cannot gain from my freedom.

The real trouble has not been that staying home is essentially not rewarding, rather, it's that we as a culture have made it appear unrewarding by valuing the "traditional work of men" over the "the traditional work of women". Here is where I am going to wag my finger at the feminist movement. When women worked to gain a hold on the capitalist workplace they only accomplished half the job. I think women (okay men too) should be allowed the option with or without children to stay home and be free. And that should be allotted equal status to other chosen professional paths.

Heres the catch. This is an anti-capitalist value. In order to value particular work it must create monetary value, not well being, or serenity. Hence, if I want to be valued, I mean truly valued by my culture, I need to at least be a part-time cashier down at Whole Foods. Otherwise I am just wasting my potential...potential to make PROFIT.

Grinding It Out Detroit Style

2008-05-24T00:56:00.002-04:00

The NBA Playoffs are underway and I cannot help but plan everyday accordingly. My love of Detroit Basketball started with a respect for a player we like to call the "Palace Prince". He shows up every game (literally) and grinds out every play, his handy work is rarely pretty, but he always gets the job done. It is this work ethic that I respect, because it mirrors my own. Albeit in a much less glamorous arena...the food service. Everyday I grind it out with a fake smile and sense of urgency that has made me the go to sandwich pro. The coach enlists his starters when the real rush begins and I am right in the center holding it all together. And believe me it is never pretty, I like a sloppy sandwich so that's what you get when I'm on the line. Just like my man Tay's tasty, yet sloppy left hook. Anyone hungry for more DETROIT BASKETBALL!!! Just watch it, dummy...For your health!

Driving Miss Violet

2008-05-05T17:26:00.002-04:00

On my days of freedom from the daily working woman's grind, there is nothing I enjoy more than a trip to the local state forest with my best friend Violet. We hop into the car and jam out to our favorite country twang as we head through the bass pumping cars heading to the local mall. Violet's ears are flapping in the wind and I'm singing along at the top of my lungs. At all our favorite parts of our songs we connect with an eye to eye acknowledgement that this should be what every car ride is about. We both know were about to escape to a place where we really belong. After a half hour of wind in our hair and endearing glances we reach our destination. Violet like a bullet ejects from her seat and I come racing after her. We run around like we've been pent up for too long, until finally Violet finds the perfect stick and then it is time...stick tossing time. We begin with the long throw and after a lot of tongue lulling I start hiding the stick on the jungle gym equipment. A little later, we begin to look around for the perfect place to fall into a soft and cool bed of grass. Violet chews the stick and I examine all the tree branches above my head...and I decide I never need to leave. But of course we have to eventually. We hop back into the car and head back to the city.

Violet and I know one day all this fun will occur in the same space and that's when we'll know we finally made it home.

My Value

2007-12-10T19:05:00.000-05:00

I think I missed something very important along the way in my life. The conversation were people tell you honesty and integrity will get you no where. I recently interviewed for this incredible job and it was instant chemistry. My potential supervisor and co-worker and I had a really engaging conversation about the position and organizational goals (I will keep the sensitive whos and whats out of this). This successful interview led to a second interview with the organizations CEO. Now that, was one humungus flop. I actually cried during the interview...who cries during an interview. To my credit I was on my period and hormonally challenged. But how do you explain that.

The trouble started when discussing my previous job, which was one of the most challenging and horrible jobs I have ever encountered. I left that job barely hanging on to my sanity and completely beaten down. I never thought that the biggest mistake I would make in my career was doing what I felt was right in the face of opposition. It seems that integrity is not a value most employers are looking for. And I for some reason I have too much of it.

People do not want to be accountable for their actions, stand up for marginalized groups, or protest unjust decisions, unless there is an army of support behind them. I think my actions and decisions were brave...but unfortunately I was standing alone. I wish my story would end like in the movies and I would get that dream job and just a little respect. But I live on the east coast where they swallow you up and spit you to the curb. I guess I will continue saying would you like mayo, mustard, or hot peppers with that?

Bound to Run in Circles

2007-10-27T16:52:00.000-04:00

Violet and I have been really enjoying ourselves lately. We went to a K-9 carnival and met other four legged friends, swam, and showed just how agile we could be. Then we went to cedarville forest on a beautiful fall day and enjoyed the smell of the leaves and all the colors. Violet trotted up ahead of me with her tail wiggling a lot. She would glance back at me to make sure she was not alone and every time this happened I could not help but smile.
However, our adventures in the forest led to a little problem; Violet damaged one of her paw pads. Yesterday, we went to the vet to make sure it was ok, because her little pad was getting a growth on it. The vet said it had been infected and needed to be cleaned and covered to prevent further infection. So, Vi is now wearing a cute little booty on one foot. I do not like to see her hurt, but I really love caring for her. She seems to like me fretting over her too. She stays by my side and gives me a look that says to me "please don't leave me alone."..and I again cannot help but smile.
It is a wonderful feeling to be needed and trusted by another creature. This bond scares me at times to...I mean really scares me, because I know one day there will be nothing I can do and that thought has given me some horrible nightmares. However, I know that life's end is inevitable and I am not afraid of my own, but I know I will have great difficulty coping when I have to let go of some special creatures around me. I don't just enjoy feeling needed and trusted, but it is this bond that I need. Life can be incredibly cyclical. Here's to many adventures with my best furry friend, Violet.

Best Friends

2007-10-04T20:58:00.000-04:00

Wouldn't you rather be hanging out with a dog right now. I know I would. This pup and I have chosen a new adventure for the future. I'll update everyone to the outcome after this Saturday...you can just sit and wonder what excitement awaits us.

Why Be Difficult

2007-10-04T18:33:00.000-04:00

My number one concern with the human race is our inability to put things into perspective. As an abortion provider gone sandwich warrior, I have a lot of difficulty dealing with the masses. My experiences have left me with this mantra: "If your difficulties in life are greater then people living in a constant state of civil war, by all means bitch away; but if not, shut the hell up and situate yourself globally."

It is this understanding that makes me the worst candidate for working in customer service. Yet I continue to find work serving people. When I worked at a reproductive health clinic I found myself saying, "Syphilis, Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Bacterial Vaginosis, Trichimonous...WHO CARES! Just take your antibiotics and stop crying." Go ahead call me cruel. However, in the scope of current events around the world, thank your lucky stars that these infections are treatable (even herpes is manageable). Even, dare I say it, an abortion really is not the end of your world...when situated globally (just be glad it is tentatively still an option).

However, I can see how Americans in the cushy life style they live might see these things as traumatic. What I cannot and refuse to understand is why the hell people act like spoiled inconsiderate asses when I make them a fucking sandwich. A woman actually said to me today, "I know this is hard for you to comprehend, but I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING ON MY SANDWICH, DO YOU HEAR ME, BECAUSE I WILL NOT REPEAT THAT AGAIN." It was not hard for me to comprehend at all. It was hard for me NOT to grab the pony tale hanging on the back of her head and slam her asshole of a face down on the service counter. Instead, I chose to grin and nod (how lame).

What I ask is simple:
1. Never assume the person in front of you is any less a person than yourself.
2. Put all your troubles and trials into a global perspective.

My guess is that I am probably preaching to the choir, but it felt good to vent. It prevents building up unhealthy emotions. I will just have to wait till I can surround myself with species other than humans before I can feel peaceful.

Initial Conclusions

2007-09-27T21:40:00.000-04:00

I have been in DC for two strenuous years. I worked at and managed an abortion clinic for that time and now find myself making subs. I really miss abortions and this blog is meant to help me remember and vent. Today, I will remember assisting the doc for the first time during a first trimester procedure.

It was a Saturday and only my fifth day on the job. I was strictly an abortion counselor/patient advocate prior to this new employment. So all I new was how to explain the procedure to people, the possible risks and complications, and what instruments would be used. But, that day I would put the words into motion. Unfortunately, the doc on duty that day was not the most patient so I was a bit nervous of slowing him down. Docs are very special people (I mean that in the saddest way). It is really the women and sometimes men that actually take the time and effort to explain and support women through these moments. So it is my advice to a potential patient to stop asking these helpful women if you can "speak to a real doctor?" The doc will just mumble and repeat what the reproductive health professional says in an annoyed tone.

The point basically is that I was nervous. I set up my room with all the needed instruments: Betadine, Zepherine (for allergies), canulas between 6-12mm, hoses, maxi pads, surgical gloves, 4x4 gauze, vacuum aspirator, syringes of lidocaine, dilators, and prepped trays etc. I was really ready to go. I knew the procedure was safe and simple but I was still worried...it was my first time and I was all by myself.

My first patient was escorted to the room. She looked very confident. I mean she walked in like lets get this over with, but she seemed very resolved at this point. When the doctor entered the room he got straight to it. Speculum in...betadine swipe...lidocaine to cervix...four dilator insertions...canula size 7mm...vacuum aspirator...currete along uterine lining...aspirator...done (3 minutes tops). My patient sat up as he left the room and said "When do I get the crackers and ginger ale?" all I could say is "I guess right now." I escorted her to recovery and supplied the requested items and ran back to clean up the room. I took the tissue for check and looked for all the needed parts and prepared for the next woman. The day continued in that fashion...very uneventful from a medical perspective and from a patient perspective.

Abortion is a medical procedure to remove unwanted cells and tissue that with time might become a baby after nine months and possibly a member of society. The key here is might and possibly, not is. Everything depends on perspective and beliefs, but I believe what I did that day was very important only because our culture has made it so...not because it actually is. I was worried that day not because I was providing this simple and safe medical procedure, but because I was engaging in an action that has been for the most part defined as murder. Funny how in the end I didn't feel like a murderer at all. I actually felt very helpful. Reality is more surreal than our imaginations. It is easier to imagine the presence of life than understand life itself.