fussy&boring 4/1-4/8
04/01/04
I just typed on this computer for two hours only to have my work erased. I’m full of anger and frustration. I’ve clenched my fists and fussed, but I only feel worse and embarrassed. I can feel Denial, and Anger. Shame I don’t know the next step. I’ve decided to list the topics I may have covered.
going to bed early
worker hall
lunch
cardboard run
While I covered most of these topics in great detail in my first, lost draft, I’ll be brief this time. I talked to Dad and Bobby on the phone. Made me happy. Dad and Hans went to the farm and saw a mountain lion. I went to bed before night prayer. I was asleep by 10pm and dreamt of going to grad school with Jenn, an ex-gfriend. The main emotion of said dream was doubt about my future or the craving for intimacy. I woke up at 5am and babysat the worker hall until 10am. There were 47 on the list, which was chronically wrong. A group of about 8 quickly left to go with the chinos, which means they can’t stay here at the Casa anymore. It’s a charitable, yet precarious setup. We have a building with bathroom, water fountain, soda machine, TV and couches. We require that all guests who don’t already have regular work stay there until 10am. We guarantee $7/hr and have an agreement with a staffing company called Memco. The workers are called off the list. I wrote in this journal when I got back. Lunched on some rice and beans. The cardboard run was an adventure as usual. about once a week, or more, we take cardboard to the recycling. We earned $15 at $1 for every 100 lbs. this time and the cute lady had to open again. I was so frustrated at having lost my two hours and Jeff was annoying the heck out of me. I was sarcastic with him and when he left the next day, I apologized. He said he hadn’t noticed. Poor guy.
I ate dinner of rice and beans, hoping Bobby would arrive quick enough to see. He called lost and I held is hand over the phone as he circled back toward the Casa. Amanda, Bobby, and Martha Anne were a sight to behold for me. Perfectly beautiful people, complaining and miserable at the hands of their perfect lives. I was happy to be out of the house, but even more happy that I escaped the life that I saw them living. We went to Amanda’s friend’s place, which was worse than the car ride. Underage, gun-toting, alcoholic college party animals. Can you believe I didn’t enjoy it? They talked about their friend who was arrested by the FBI at the airport for giving away concealed weapon licenses without the proper beaurocratic procedures. They talked about the 500 ways they could mess with the neighbors of the Phi Psi house on Miladaun. I suspect Milladaun was named after a dubious historical figure.
Bobby and I finally moved on and went to get lost in Houston. We ended up at Cabo’s downtown. The Blues game was on and after it ended I called Bobby out on getting engaged too young. We talked about it for hours. He had lots to say, but so did I. We came back to the Casa and tried to help two kids who arrived to pick up their uncle. Poor things drove five hours from Dallas only to encounter me telling them that this man didn’t exist. I went to look for him about five different times. I even knocked on the room that he had been listed as staying at, even though said list indicated that he had left.
I woke the next morning (4/02) really tired and felt like a zombie. Morning Prayer and furniture pick-up where I got lost, stopped at a Seminary and saw a street called Kuhlman. We helped moved Serena, a nice lady. I broke her antique furniture. She thanked me for confessing. She paid the guys $150 ($30 each). We forgot to return the blankets. Later, she called to say they were donated. I napped after a lunch of rice and beans. Dinner at the Zwicks is always a welcome escape. Then Tristan came up with the idea to see a dollar movie. We saw Miracle, which was the same as every other sports movie, GREAT!
4/03/04 slept past noon. I blame the benadryl and the hives that broke out.
4/8/04 Tomorrow is my half-birthday, which I fully intended to celebrate. But considering it is Good Friday, I’ll probably fast instead. Bread and water only. Friday, Saturday. My seder meal will be in a few moments, then. I think I’ll have rice and beans.
On Sunday, I saw the movie “Last Samuraii with Tom Cruise.” Now I remember why I don’t go to the movies.
Monday I fell asleep in the truck on the way to the food bank, and again while waiting there. In related news, I’ve started reading “surviving in a consumer society” by our own John Kavanaugh (sp). Something went wrong at the Food bank. We grabbed as many produce items as we could, but didn’t get any of our staple foods. Jonathan and I were sent out later to buy the food. I couldn’t believe that Mark and Louise just paid for all that food. The market that we go to reminds me way too much of a shady used car dealership.
Tuesday when we gave out food, I gave out carrots. By the grace of God, I had chosen to wear my nasty jeans. I never consciously thought how sloppy it could be, but it was gross. We discussed starting a compost heap, maybe we’ll do that mañana. After 5:30 Mass with Sean at St. Ann’s, we dined on rice and beans, then went to a tea café to bum some internet time. I had a fascinating and tempting discussion with a worker there about starting such a café in St. Louis. I thought of my SLUH buds. When I got home that night I talked with Shane and Julie on the phone. Rodrigo had called too. Shane and I talked about our experiments and Bobby’s visit. Shane had emailed me about writing a personal mission statement, which I was able to partially elaborate on, having re-read “7 habits” this summer.
Wednesday, in the evening, Arthur passed by to pick me up for dinner at his house, which was delightful. I enjoyed meeting his parents and we had some good talk about our fathers. I struggle with the balance between my wishes for my father and his. I remembered how much Phi Psi has done for me, since I read the “envisions” magazine about Jerry Nelson: “everyone is a potential billionaire, only inhibited by themselves.” He was quoted saying that there are more single parent households than ever before in history and remembering what an alumni did for him was motivating him to pay it forward. We talked about Donald Trump. I had heard that he was not a happy person. In contrast to the stereo-typed rich person, I had found J. Nelson to be quite pleasant.
Speaking of motivational speakers, I noticed “7 habits of effective peeps” on the counter. We called Paul Richter, hope to get to see him here in H-town. I heard of possible bad Karma around Gerlich. I’m worried for him and his, but don’t know if I could do anything to help, or wether I should butt-in or not. I’ll take Arthur’s advice on something else and apply it here and let God decide. We talked about Bobby and Dietrich too.
Arthur and I drove by the YWCA basketball park to see if the other volunteers were playing ball. We slowed down, and saw them walking in the dark across the field to the volleyball courts. When we got honked at, we laughed and thanked the fusser for trying to help get my friends attention. As the fusser honked again while passing us we discussed how significant perspective is. I’m still toying with the question about how much control over ourselves do humans have.
Thursday morning I woke up late after a vigorous night of night volleyball (no lights). I hurried to San Jose Obrero worker hall. Instead of catching up on the reading for our Thursday lunchtime discussions, I listened to a Honduran 40-year old with worse ADHD than I’d ever seen. Amazing stories accompanied his intense Faith. I still have lots of growth to do. I wish I didn’t struggle with the Spanish as much as I do. I cleaned up after junkfest when I got back, feeling terrible about throwing all those clothes away. I grabbed some for Jim Gunter and his. I was too tired or exhausted to take a nap in the 20 minutes I had before lunch. We lunched at the girls house. I was surprised to not be impressed by the food this time. It figures that the first time I finally get my act together and remember to not grab rice and beans from the men’s house, that the food would disappoint. We discussed the 2nd half of the encyclical from the synod of the Americas. I’m impressed that my fiance is so smart. She’s darn wordy, too. I hope many are listening to her. Mark and Louise continued to baffle me regarding the plans for the holy week ceremonies. I checked out the herb spiral, which despite my negative expectations is growing. There’s a great metaphor between that herb spiral and the catholic worker house. Both are anarchist, thus disorganized, unplanned, and non-symmetrical; personalist, thus effective, loved, and dependant. They are both Environmental; thus inefficient, messy, and inspiring.