Last Day

Today marked my last day at my Old Job. For anyone who doesn’t know, I worked for a corporation with hundreds of thousands of employees in global offices. The name rhymes with “United States Latrine S’more.” Over a decade ago, I barely completed a ten-week in-person interview process on the first attempt, an accomplishment of which I am quite proud. My coworkers and I marked the occasion by singing, nay, screaming our new employer’s song at absolute top volume. Next followed six months of introductory training, three months of specialized education for my specific job, and then out into the fray. They sent me on arduous adventures, but also wonderful work trips. You wouldn’t believe some of the sunrises I’ve gotten to witness. I met some of my favorite people, including The Hubs—who still works for them. Through this career, I developed an unrelenting belief in my capability to outlast my shittiest days and maybe even come back stronger because of them. Without the skills they taught me and the experiences they enabled, I never would have earned the Payne Fellowship. They also broke my heart a few times. Those shitty days came from somewhere. So thanks, Latrine S’more. I am not going to miss you. 

Because I’m still going to be around you all the time. Because of The Hubs.

See you at the birthday!

Customarily, those leaving the Latrine S’more grow a beard. Don’t mess with tradition.

How Old Is Too Old For a Gap Year?

Sat down to think about the future, which has become much less stressful recently. Payne requires a two year master’s, The Hubs’s job moves him (us) in one year. By golly, I’m no STEM major, but that math doesn’t add up. My options were: 

1. Request to complete my last year of grad school remotely. Bleh, virtual learning. I understand it’s great for people who can’t physically attend class…but it’s still terrible.

2.  Live apart from The Hubs and possibly my progeny for a year. For the first week of no kids I’d get amazing sleep and that would be awesome, but I’d really miss them…and probably my husband too. But let’s be honest it would most likely be me with [number redacted] kids by myself trying to maintain good grades. 

3. Request to defer the program for a year and then apply for schools wherever The Hubs ends up (or is likely to end up, since we won’t know where we’re going until after application deadlines). 

Usually, choice #3 is your throwaway option added in to pad the numbers. But this time it made sense. Almost too much sense. So I asked for a deferment. I’m clearly not in the Latrine S’more anymore because they accepter my deferral request and will allow me to start grad school and the DC internship in 2025. 

The real question here is…what am I going to do for a year? 

Short answer: Whatever. I. Want. 

Here’s some ideas off the top of my head (that I may have already started):

-volunteer at the church thrift shop

-download a language app and relearn Spanish

-get shredded

-get honest with myself that when I say “shredded,” I just mean maybe bench my bodyweight 

-swim the length of the English channel (at my local pool over the course of a year, not in the actual Atlantic all at once)

-read some books, maybe a lot of books

-crochet 

-make dinners from scratch 

-get coffee once a week with a retired navy officer that I met on LinkedIn who knew the priest from when I was in South Dakota 

-write a post for my dumb blog every other week or so

So, let’s see how this year turns out. 

The Payne Fellowship

What is this fellowship I’ve accepted? As described in more details at paynefellows.org (check out the Fellows Directory for my bio!), the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) awards this merit- and financial needs-based scholarship through Howard University for graduate students keen on becoming Foreign Service Officers for USAID. Fellows can use the scholarship at any grad school (not just Howard) and also receive a stipend to spend how they choose (childcare. I choose childcare). It includes an internship on Capitol Hill (details on that coming this summer) and an internship with a USAID office, called a Mission (details on that coming inshallah). Before anyone thinks I’m smarter than the average bear for being able to submit a successful application with a newborn, let me spill a secret. I applied to two other fellowships shortly after giving birth. They were not impressed and did not wish to get to know me better. The Payne Fellowship had a later due date, which gave me some time to tailor my application to USAID, finesse many of my responses, and generally engage more of what little brain power remains post-partum. 

It also helped that I encountered USAID in the past. Back in 2018, I attended the Joint Humanitarian Operations Course (JHOC), a three-day program where a USAID disaster response professional teaches military personnel how to interact with other federal agencies in the rare cases where the State Department (DoS) asks the Department of Defense (DoD) for assistance in a crisis. I actually looked up how to join USAID (and then Catholic Relief Services) when I got home the first day. Two things I loved about the course: 

1: If the DoD assists DoS during a disaster, the DoS personnel can and will tell military members of any and all ranks that they were not special and to go away. Doesn’t matter if they are a general. They are not the main effort. 

2: The man teaching the course had the dopest vest I have ever seen. Pockets inside of pockets. Pure function with no regard for form. The only way to get one is to work for USAID. 

Turns out, applying for a Fellowship requires much less effort than applying for a federal job. Also, my last job application included a three-mile run, and an online interview doesn’t intimidate me half as much as trying to be fast.  

You Again?

Hello, new and previous readers (Hi Grams!). Why am I resurrecting this whimsical and often irreverent blog now, as a thirty-five-year-old mom with ten years in a somewhat serious profession? Well, that profession ended on a wee bit of a sour note and in a fit of spite fueled productivity I applied for a fellowship to help pay for grad school. As it turns out, while slightly delusional during post-partum exhaustion, I can compile a competitive package but not read the fine print (it was normal sized).  Minor details concerning the program escaped my imperfect scrutiny. For example, the fellowship includes a ten-week internship in DC for the first year, then a ten-week internship in another country for the second year, and expects five years working for a federal agency, most likely overseas, after that. Incredibly exciting…for a twenty something without such trifling commitments as children and a husband with a slightly inflexible job. Just a touch more complex for me, The Hubs, and our family. 

The Hubs and I had some hard discussions, and eventually he told me “you don’t turn in a hand like this.” So I accepted. As we have many times in the past, we will figure it out as we go.  I expect the next few years to contain more than a few nut rolls, but hopefully a couple of joyful moments interspersed here and there. Since I made one reckless decision with the mindset of a footloose and fancy free single idiot, why not accompany it with another and reboot the old blog? I hear 2010 nostalgia is so in right now. What’s nice about blogs is that I can fulfill the urge to yell into the void about my existence, but they are  also super easy to ignore if you aren’t interested in my life. 

Just a note, while I acknowledge the irony of writing about my life publicly, I ask that those of you who know me for real life please respect the privacy of my family. Please do not post the names of my family in the comments. Thank you. 

I’m too lazy to even check where I was the last time I posted. Ah, the sweet luxurious life of a drifter.

I’m currently in Layton, Utah and yesterday I got to play pickleball with the reigning city league Pickleball champions. What now?

In other places, I got creeped on in “the Best Gay Bar in America” which is in Omaha, Nebraska, so apparently San Francisco can just go suck it. I also had a lovely Easter and got a baller basket full o’ travelin’ supplies (I tried to truncate supplies, but I don’t think it’s possible) and then drove back to the Rez.

I actually rather enjoyed myself visiting ye olde St. Francis Mission on the Rosebud Sioux Reservation. Hung out with a group of teachers who lovingly refer to themselves as the Unicorn Success Club. Also met the current JVs who sound like they are having a delightful time and really getting the most out of their experience. I’m just gunna go ahead and take some credit for laying the groundwork that made all that a possibility. No need to thank me, guys, your fulfillment is my fulfillment.

I then made a lovely little trip to all my old favorite SoDak stomping grounds, like Pierre and Rapid City, making a stop at iconic Wall Drug, mostly so I could send my parents a picture of their favorite tourist trap ever. EVER.

As it turns out, South Dakota still makes me feel all poetic and wordy, but I won’t share that feeling garbage here. Also, Wyoming is so pretty. I’m going to marry a cowboy and raise sheep out there. You’ll probably never hear from me again.

My next stop will be Oregon for a night, then Washington. It’ll be fantastic to be back in the Pacific Time Zone and hopefully I’ll be in Davis for Picnic Day and San Fran for April 22 (which is my BIRTHDAY and subtlety is for chumps).

Oh, and I officially gave my 30 days notice to my roommates, so I will be moving out of my apartment May 15 and have no concrete plans after that, soooo, if you’ve got like, a job opening and a place to live and think you’d “Hey, how much better would my life be if I got to see Maggie’s face EVERYDAY,” then you should, I dunno, talk to me or something.

Also, over 8,000 miles on this trip so far and I filed my state taxes while on the road! Living the drifter dream.

Happy trails everyone!

Going Back

I’m currently in Vermont, which in a way is my turning back point. From here on out, it’s doubling back and then heading west. I’m excited to see the people between here and home, but I’m nowhere near ready for this absurd adventure to wind down. As I’m sure every mother loves hearing, I could probably drift about in my car forever. Not to mention, when I finally end up in San Francisco, I’ll have to focus on tedious details like finding a job, instead of figuring out where I’ll be sleeping for the next few nights. 

Since I last checked in, I have seen quite a lot. I spent a good deal of time in Tennessee, visiting some touristy locations which mostly focused on the history of rock and roll. More importantly, I stayed with a cousin of a cousin (because my family extends way beyond actual blood relations) and got to hear beautiful banjo and fiddle music in someone’s living room. I also fell in total and complete love with the Smokey Mountains, but that is another matter entirely.

I was supposed to drive to Atlanta next, but my friend who was hosting me decided to quit her job and go backpacking. I’m actually a little jealous. However, I’m realizing this trip is far more about seeing people than it is visiting places and so instead of driving down that way to stay in her empty house, I figured it was time to do something a little reckless. I was itching to get on the road and put hundreds of miles on my odometer, so I took off East and figured I’d stop when I got tired or when I hit Williamsburg, VA. Somewhere around 2 am I pulled into a truck stop for a bathroom break and a power nap. An hour later, I was up again, finally reaching my destination around 4 am. Needless to say, I slept for quite awhile before tooling around Colonial Williamsburg and meeting Holly and her fiance for dinner with her grad school friends.

The next morning was one of my easiest drives to Washington, DC, where I got to see one of my best friends in the whole wild world. After breaking some minor laws (no dancing in the Jefferson Memorial? But have you seen my moves?) and the healthiest dinner I’ve had all trip, I accompanied her roommate out to the bars at 2 am while Gina went to bed. Because why not. As someone pointed out in Nashville, I get along with pretty much anybody. I got to spend the entire next day with Gina, giving a hearty approval to her boyfriend and feeling positive about her situation as I left town early Sunday morning. I probably won’t worry about myself enough to ever satisfy my mother or anyone else who doesn’t want me to become a hobo, but I do feel very protective about Gina’s happiness.

My drive to Vermont brought on the first non-gorgeous weather since San Diego. Apparently, my ability to summon California temperatures and sunshine does not extend above the Mason-Dixon line. I spent the night in Burlington, VT and then sauntered over to…you know, I’m not even sure I know the name of this town. I’m in rural Vermont. It’s friggin amazing. I’m staying with the parents of a former coworker whom I had never met. Why? Because someone suggested it and one of my three personal mottos is “I’m game.” (The other two are “Sack up.” and “Be the person you want to date.”)

I’ve been doing terribly at keeping stats, but I can tell you that I’ve heard a total of 35 Adele songs and been through 16 states. I’m at about 6,000 miles and am afraid to check my credit card balance to see just how much money I’ve spent on gas. 

Have I mentioned that between here and Omaha, it’s about 10 hours of driving every day? Bring it!

This Is My Ninth State So Far? Really? High Five, Me.

A quick and dirty recap of the last few days while I sit here at the Dunkin’ Donuts in Memphis, waiting for my friend’s bus to arrive. 

I drove nearly a thousand miles in Texas. I went all the way down to McAllen, where I stayed with my old roommate and her family, having some phenomenal Mexican food and taking Monica through Costco for the first time in her life. I also filled up on gas for $3.48 a gallon. Yeah, California, I can hear you crying. 

Next stop was Houston, where I met up with Margee, who is currently living in a house that was once abandoned and has now been rebuilt using mostly recycled and reused materials and employing such eco-friendly practices as collecting rain water to use for flushing the toilets. We spent most of the night shooting the breeze with a few of her roommates, who are friendly and welcoming people. The next day, with the warm sun shining and delightful breeze, we walked to the re-market, where people leave clothes and household goods off and people are free to rummage through and take home what they fancy. There was a lovely market atmosphere with a food truck, music playing, people selling wares and an arts and crafts table. It was the perfect kind of place to spend a late Saturday morning with a friend that you’d never read about in a tourist guide and exactly the reason I planned this trip around seeing the people I know rather than the places I think I should visit.

I arrived in New Orleans Saturday night, grimacing as my poor tired car rattled over horribly bumpy streets. I met up with Steve at a bar where he was out with some of his coworkers from the public defenders’ office, and we caught up about the last 7 months. When we went back to his house, his roommate (and another FJV) Nate walked with me around the neighborhood, again, discussing our lives since the end of JVC. The next day involved eating crawfish on the porch, heading to Congo Park to see a brass band competition, and running into a former coworker from SutherlandGold. Yup, even in New Orleans, I happened to bump into someone I knew. And I absolutely love it. The night ended with a late Mass at St. Joseph’s and then Nate and I had some coffee and beignets before heading to see some live music. Both nights I was there I ended up going to sleep at about 2 am, but I actually felt great having a whole day where I didn’t have to drive 300 miles or more. 

Today, I was in 4 different states, stopping to get gas in Jackson, Mississippi, where I was offered marijuana by a gentleman who was quite impressed that I had driven my beat up old Carolla all the way from California by myself. I declined the invitation to purchase narcotics and the inquiry for my phone number so that Frank could “holler at” me. Thanks for that, Mississippi. I then got a little side tracked on my way into Memphis and ended up visiting beautiful Arkansas for awhile before figuring out how to get to where I’m (pretty sure I’m) supposed to be. 

Welps, I suppose I should look at some jobs with the remainder of my time here on the internets. I asked people with whom I stayed to contribute some guest posts, and hopefully they’ll actually write something, as I have limited time for and access to the webs. And you, know, any time I can get people to talk about me, I’m happy.

Greetings from Austin!

Actually, would you mind giving Austin and me a few moments of privacy, please? We need to have words.

Austin, what the hell? You’re a cool town, I want you to know that. I really dig your scene and you’ve got a wonderfully friendly skeeball bar. I wasn’t here for SxSW, but I heard it was an all out shitshow, in the best possible way, and I’m super glad to hear that about you.

But you have GOT to be kidding me with how hard it is to drive here, man. Seriously, Austin? SERIOUSLY? I just dragged my ass from El Paso, and I’m pretty sure everyone you’ve ever met has told you this, Austin, but East Texas is a gorgeous but unrelenting oppressively expansive stretch of land. You would hope that after nine hours of two lane highway like the crack of humanity between the unending buttcheeks of the southwest, I would be rewarded by a breezy little freeway way trip into the city. The capitol city, no less, with a capitol building larger than the federal government’s (Texas, I don’t even have the time or wherewithal right now to discuss your superiority complex). But do I get that, Austin? Do I get to cruise those last 30 minutes after cruising 500 miles in a day? No, ya smug dipstick, I have to suffer through stoplights and arbitrary highway changes in the middle of podunk towns on the outskirts of your city limit, stopping and going 80 different times in what should be the easiest part of this drive. And then, and THEN Austin, once I actually get into the city limits, you go into a freeway spaz for all with onramps and exits crisscrossing each other like a spider orgy. That’s messed up, Austin. That’s messed up, and I’m pretty sure you know it.

Like I said, still think you’re a great town and I’m totally excited to check out the food trucks today, maybe order some East African food or something. Just, maybe try to figure out an easier way for traffic from the 290 to get into the freaking city, ok? Ok, good talk.

Alright, sorry about that guys, just had to straighten some things out with my current city. I spent two nights ago in El Paso, seeing a fellow Former Jesuit Volunteer (FJV). Fun part of the day- about 50 miles outside of El Paso, there is a border patrol check point, where I was asked to step out of the car so a drug sniffing dog could inspect my trunk (I did ask that they could put my pillow in the back seat before a dog stepped all over it, and they obliged after giving me weird stares… inconsiderate punks. Yeah, dude, maybe you should notice that there are personal items in that trunk over which you are giving your dog free reign. Rude). I think my favorite part was when the officer asked me where I was headed and I told him, “Uhhh, all over. I’m on a road trip.” I probably would have arrested me at that point, but obviously they didn’t (or maybe they did and they let me use the internet while I’m being detained, you’ll never know). I have no idea what could have set the dogs off, but I suspect that living in the haze of San Francisco has just let the stench of marijuana seep in the the very fiber of my car. I mean, she’s already trippin’. Am I right?

Next stop is McAllen to see an old roommate and then back up to Houston for what is rumored to be an FJV reunion shake down. Or whatever you kids call big parties these days.

Oh, and New Mexico? I don’t care how many roadside billboards you put up, the Continental Divide Trading Post will NEVER be Wall Drug.

STATS

Ohh, look at all these stats. Try not to drool on your computer, it can be really bad for laptops.

Day 4 (San Diego to Phoenix)

Miles traveled: 379

Total miles traveled: 951

Gallons purchased: 8.410

Adele songs heard: 2

Total Adele songs heard: 6

People seen

Dana (Sister, LS: Christmas)

Jon (Brother in Law, LS: Christmas)

Hans (Dog- Dana would insist he be included. I’m rolling my eyes right with you, LS: Christmas)

Day 6 (Phoenix to El Paso)

Miles traveled: 407

Total miles traveled: 1358

MPG: 37.4 (AWWWWW YEEAAAH!)

Gallons purchased: 9.959

Adele songs heard: 5

Total Adele songs heard: 11

People Seen (reminder, FJV = Former Jesuit Volunteer and LS = Last Seen)

Laura (FJV, LS: July ’11)

Day 7 (El Paso to Austin)

Miles traveled: 579

Total miles traveled: 1937

Gallons purchased: 6.916 (I’m almost on empty right now)

Adele songs heard: 2

Total Adele songs heard: 13

People Seen

Rachel (FJV, LS: 7/11)

Pamela (FJV, LS: 7/11)

Joel (FJV, LS: 7/11)

Various skeeballers of Austin, never before seen

Days 3-5: Family Affairs

Awww Yeaaaahhh! I’m finally in another state! 

Last I left you, my brother and I were playing Wii and trying to figure out what he, his wife and I were going to do for the day. We ended up going to see 21 Jump Street, and Josh and I both snuck a 32 ox bottle of his home brew into the theater (because how else do you expect a couple of Portuguese kids to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?). Movie was hysterical but we both had to pee so bad it hurt, and right at the climax of the plot. We then decided to find an Irish pub to continue partying St. Paddy’s style. At first, we went to a bar with a five dollar cover, and then promptly turned around, because the kind of people who sneak homemade beer into a movie theater are not the kind of people who pay cover charges. In fact, people who go out to bars with me, take notice – I judge you when you make me go to bars that charge for me to simply walk in. No place is that cool.

To get back on track, we found a place that served a tall boy PBR and a shot of well whiskey for five bucks. Josh and I were sold. I think Lisa ordered a beer. We spent a few hours there; I tried my hand at darts (I suck at those even worse than I suck at skeeball) and told strangers about my intentions of dating Tim Tebow (we would have such great conversations!). After some greasy Irish pub food, we got home at about 8pm, ate girl scout cookies and watched Jersey Shore pop up videos. Seriously, I can feel the jealousy seeping through each and every one of you, and I haven’t even mentioned that I was wearing my brother’s Forever Lazy, which is for people who think the Snuggie is just too much work.

My drive to Phoenix on Sunday was without trauma. There was snow on the mountains near San Diego, but I ignored the signs imploring me to carry chains. Living for a year in South Dakota has given me just enough confidence to figure I’d make it through just fine, but also enough respect for the road conditions to realize I should drive carefully, which I did. Duh.

Phoenix has been lovely. My sister and I saw some of the hoochiest outfits I have ever witnessed walking into a restaurant/club last night. We lingered long enough to weep inwardly for my age group, and then went somewhere else for dinner. Today my sister, her husband, their dog and I hiked Tom’s Thumb. Where it SNOWED. In ARIZONA. In MARCH. Obviously not huge flakes, but visible flurries. Outrageous. I also tried the Taco Bell Doritos Taco. I actually feel slightly ashamed sharing that, but I’m going to go ahead and own up to it. 

Tomorrow I’m driving to Texas. Hopefully spending a night in El Paso, then on to Austin. 

I’ve been uploading pictures to a flickr account, so you can view my shenanigans here. 

If you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment or shoot me an email. Stats are only for days where I actually drive my car. 

Stats to be posted later, when I find where I wrote down the stats. Whatever, I’m on vacation. 

Day 2: There We Go

I’d like to apologize, because this has started on a bit of a dull note. Running errands, hanging out with my grandma, and visitng a few friends is great fun for me but not exactly the best reading for anyone else. Ridiculous circumstance have to be coming soon. As much as my mother doesn’t want to hear this, if this trip goes through without any mishaps, I will be sorely disappointed.

I left SLO and headed to LA (ok, Manhattan Beach, whatever), meeting up with a friend from my movie theater job for dinner. Part of what I love about catching up with people I haven’t seen in years is the conversation flows so smoothly. There are years to discuss, plus Brady and I always had easy conversation anyways. At some point I realized it was 10:30 pm and I still had to drive to San Diego. In the rain. Whoops.

I mede it to my brother and his wife’s house without incident, until I realized I had no idea what their apartment number was. So I played a fun game of “Try the doors and see which one opens” and the accompaniying ditty, “I really hope I’m at Josh and Lisa’s place and didn’t just break into a stranger’s apartment-oh, that’s a picture of them, we’re good.” And then crashed like a kid at the end of Halloween.

The whole reason I drove in so late was so I could wake up and attend Lisa’s yoga class, at the studio where she not only teaches, but manages. Unfortunately, this meant we also had to leave at 6:45 so she could get the studio set up, but since she’s the lady in charge, she let me sleep in the floor of her office until the class started. I love me some floor napping. And then hot yoga class, which is always a hilarious undertaking for a slob like myself (but don’t be fooled, I’m surprisingly flexible. Did a bird of paradise like a boss). Her studio is fabulous, in case you were wondering.

I’m now playing Wii fitness with my brother and his wife, laughing at how much effort Josh is putting into making my Mii as realistic as possible, and hoping the rainy weather clears out before I leave to Phoenix tomorrow. When I left SF, I thought I’d be heading towards sunshine and warmer climes, but the friggin rain followed me down. I better get to wear some shorts soon, or I will punch the clouds in their babymakers.

DAY 2 STATS

 Miles traveled: 311

Total miles traveled: 555

Odometer reads: 128326

Gallons purchased: 9.294

Total gallons purchased: 9.294

MPG: 28.83

Adele songs heard: 3

Total Adele songs heard: 4

Stops: Nipomo, CA; Manhattan Beach, CA; Carlsbad, CA

People Seen:

Grams (Birthed Mom, LS: January)

Kathy Tompkins (Birthed Patricia, LS: January)

Brady (Worked at the movie theater together, LS: 2010?)

Josh (Brother, LS: Christmas)

Lisa (Married Josh…sucker, LS: Christmas)