My dad helped me out financially recently because I am a poor mother smurfer. That's pretty nice, considering my age.
My dad helped me out financially recently because I am a poor mother smurfer. That's pretty nice, considering my age.
everything is wrapped in gray
i'm focusing on your image
can you hear me in the void?
For the last six months I've been taking a memoir writing class at the university. There are about ten of us in the class, and everyone is at least twice my age, because twentysomethings usually have jobs and families and don't simply sit around stewing about the past and trying to make it into art. It has been a valuable process; learning to share and talk about things, to have a captive audience, to read deeper, to try to accept compliments, to take criticism without absorbing and amplifying it, to reflect on language and produce longer pieces of work than I am accustomed to.
It's a three-quarter class, and having just finished the second quarter, I mentioned in passing to one lady that I wasn't sure if I would be taking the last part of the class because it is very expensive (about a month's worth of my wages). I've been thinking about it for the last couple of weeks, trying to figure out if I can take another class (nope, credit classes would cost three months worth of wages), or simply join a writing group, if I should just enroll, or stagger along on my own, etc.
Anyway, today I woke up to an email from my classmate asking me to call her; I thought maybe she wanted a critique or something because there's a literary journal she is considering submitting to soon. She had actually emailed my classmates letting them know I may not be taking the last class, and within an hour everyone had pledged to chip in to cover my tuition, because apparently they see me as something of an integral member of the class.
I am not only the recipient of a generous monetary donation, but I am also being strongly encouraged to seek a publisher for the small pieces I have produced thus far. It is no small thing to take the time to read on the life and work of another; I hope I could one day create something someone else might find of value. It is funny; I feel so alone so much of the time, but there is at least a roomful of "successful adults" somewhere that believe I might carry worth.
Hahaha, I love this.Originally Posted by Shlup
I guess the most generous thing that has happened to me lately is just the overwhelming good will that I've received since I've moved. A lot of people have either given me small gifts or useful items for the house, helped me in some way to find a really great apartment for a killer price, or just generally have been kind and supportive.
It's one of those occasions where I've felt really touched and eager to pay the good will forward the next time I find some young person trying to move out.
I avoided stepping on a snail once.
Calliope, that is a very touching story!
My room mate and best friend does so many little things for me it is hard to pick only one thing but I am truly grateful to have her in my life... but maybe back in February when she organized a cross-dressing surprise birthday cake and tea in between my work shifts.
Boldly go.
I was pretty touched! & that sounds like a pretty excellent work break.
Yesterday, one of my co-workers asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee, her shout. She came back with like...six fancy coffee drinks for people, she probably spent at least half her shift's wages on coffee! It was very kind of her. Every so often I bake cupcakes or something and bring them to work, perhaps next time we can coordinate our efforts!
That sounds like a pretty stupid-awesome situation, Calliope. I wish my classmates thought enough about me to pay for my tuition!
Also, bestow upon us thy works, thou muse, thou voice of epic poetry?
I can't think of any RAoKs I've been the recipient of recently, but I did get the chance a few days ago to buy gas for someone who was out of town and had lost their wallet. Afterwards I wondered if I had been scammed, but oh well, I'm happy I did it.
Oh, I forgot, I went to visit my grandmother last week in the middle of the day and she made biscuits for me, which is (you'll just have to take my word for it) simply the best thing in the whole world.
Also, my two-year-old son got in my face the other day.
He looked me in the eyes and asked, "You happy?"
I didn't know what to say, because he was so sincere and curious and too-mature-to-be-two in that moment, and also because I wasn't actually happy. I was angry about something trivial, insignificant.
He grabbed my head with his tiny hands and made me look at him, because apparently I had gotten distracted by my own thoughts and wasn't answering him.
He asked again, "You happy, dad?"
I didn't want to lie, so I said, "No, I'm mad"
He waited for a few seconds then asked again, "You happy, dad?" and he smiled, and I didn't want to lie, so I said, "Yes, I'm happy"
And he said, "Good, I love you."
Two years old, and he's already a better person than me.
A Spaniard in the works
A friend of mine picks me up to do volunteer work on Sundays, and although it was my idea, I'm always a little sluggish because I'm not an early morning kinda person. She was set to arrive earlier than usual, so texted me asking if she could pick up a cup of coffee or a red bull to placate me, even though she wasn't getting one for herself.
We've had a few people take us to the airport lately; which is always a considerate gesture, particularly given travelling can be stressful for some people even if everything runs smoothly.
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