Tag Archives: social work

Mother, Mother

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Mother, Mother

Maybe not meaningful to you but meaningful to me is the fact that this song came out the year I became a mother…albeit a pre-birth mother, but a mother aware of the child inside her all the same…

I identified with this song so much.

Somedays, I still do.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the men and women mothers or mother role holders, even the ones that weren’t close to perfect.

Oh my poor vanilla car.

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Oh my poor vanilla car.

The first time someone told me I didn’t live in Portland and my bumper stickers were going to cost me jobs, I rolled my eyes and laughed.

regina

The second time someone pointed out people might be suspicious of me as a social worker because of my bumper stickers, I was like “oh well, people learn when they are uncomfortable.”

judy

The third time I was like:

“OK FINE SWEET JEBUS. No, I don’t want to alienate my damn clients.”

walter

grumble grumble grumble hiss

So I finally stripped my poor car today.

Luckily, I was married to a redneck who did auto body and paint once, soooo I knew how to do it with out scratching my car but gees…

My poor car is humiliated.

She is vanilla.

She is now an asexual gender neutral it.

It is now apolitical.

The only thing that could offend my client’s now for sure is the fact it’s not American made.

Oh! And that it’s white. Damn it!

I have to draw the line.

But I suppose this is what being a grown-up anti-oppressive practitioner is.

Boo.

DSABASMJ….

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DSABASMJ….

Dear sweet ancient baby alien space monkey, Jebus:

I am about to go to my interview for a job that could potentially lead me straight into a potential future I like, so I humbly ask:

  • Please don’t let me sound like an idiot or a fraud.
  • Please give me the magical Goddess inspired words to wow them.
  • Please let my interviewers be part of the 50% who sees yellow as cheerful, not the 50% who are made anxious by it.
  • Please let me get the right job if it is not this one, very quickly, in time to pay my stuff next month.

Humina-Humina, monkey dust, catholic mumbo jumbo, hoodoo voodoo, sacrificial animal of your choice, genuflection, crosses and rituals, dancing on one foot, spinning around, holding snakes, talking in tongues, holy water, smudge smoke, mecca lecca hi mecca hiney ho, and all that other sh*t.

Amen.

XOXO

Jani

Gees I am such a slacker….

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Gees I am such a slacker….

but…….only when it comes to my blog.

Seriously…Sorry friends…been doing the job-search-grad-school-hippy-hippy-shake (no really, its a thing) and then this week I’ve been in trainings….next week I am going to the ocean for a conference…it’s rough I tell ya, rough.

BUT every time I think the Universe is done throwing me curve balls, I get another one….this time it was an ok one though.

Facebook has this magical effed up skill of knowing who I have thought about or talked about recently and then WHAMO…they pop up on my radar.

Some people I am like:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I had almost forgot they existed!

And then others, I have a real soft spot for….

…sometimes I have “known” these people for 25 years…Oh my dear sweet ancient alien baby space monkey Jebus….25 years? Really?

I don’t always know anything about them except what has trickled through the rumor mill over the years….

What I remember from childhood is often very different from the people they have become…and yet, they are still those same people in my head.

Memory is a bittersweet thing.

But still, I wish them so much happiness it makes my chest hurt. Huh.

It really is all about love and energy. Even if you don’t know it.

I’ve been through some emotional roller coasters lately and the one concrete thing I have realized is that loving others makes me feel good, but they don’t have to love me back for me to get that benefit.

 

 

This is the part that I hate…

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This is the part that I hate…

So I have this bad habit of starting sentences with adverbs. Oh well. 🙂

Anyway, I had company this weekend who asked me why I have pictures hanging everywhere of my ex-partner….They wondered if it was an indication that I am still holding out hope to get back together or I am not over them or whatnot. I said no, I just really haven’t had the time to deal with it considering grad school and blah blah blah….

But since they said that, now all I can think of is the task. My eyes go to the pictures of them immediately as I walk by my framed pictures and mosaics…. It’s a pain in the ass. It requires an emotional dissonance and dissociation I am not totally prepared for and yet, I know it needs to be done.

It’s not like I am doing anything better today.

Facebook and Pinterest and homework and the last episode of Spartacus can wait I suppose.

I hate endings.

But I love beginnings. It’s a balance I suppose.

resume schmesume

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resume schmesume

It’s that inevitable part of ending graduation….that time every one without a trust fund dreads……JOB SEARCH….

I have redone my resume 34,384,574,857,045 times with 2,384,973,048 different people telling me I need to redo it. But luckily, I have a pretty awesome BGBF who  loves me enough to have worked mine over like racehorse on his weekend and whipped it into sexy shape. All on one snazzy page. HUZZAH.

So today I filled out 15 applications, including cover letters and endless inane questions asking me to provide rationale, answers, education, and experience with the name of the organizations I worked at during those experiences to prove I know how to blow my nose and tie my shoes and encourage others to do the same, in an appropriate manner.

OY.

Holy Moly. I hope I get a job.

Don’t they understand I am an indentured servant? I have a house worth of loans! I am owned by the man!

I will work! I have to work! Let me work! PLEASE……

Not that I am desperate….yet…..

I was even asked in an application if I am an “expert in determining precipitating events.”

Um, no. Is that even an actual expertise? I know what one is but…..I’m not training to be on “Criminal Minds”….

I digress.

What did I get into!

Wish me luck lovers.

Mama needs to pay off these shoes….

Easy button, anyone?

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Easy button, anyone?

I sure wish I had one.

Now I know I live a charmed life. I have first world problems. I have many blessings, it is true.

But sometimes, I wish things were easier. I know that difficult things have magical pay offs in the end and all that BS but I really wish that things weren’t all so contrary in my world.

It feels like no matter what choices I make nothing is ever easy.

I know my world would be lame if everything was always easy, I am not asking for that; but just a moment or two of grace.

Of utter perfection.

I want the spin to stop just for a minute.

Is that too much to ask?

 

Are you f***ing kidding me?

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Are you f***ing kidding me?

Ok, I know that this is going to abound with moral relativism issues and non-cultural competence but this really bothers me on a personal level. Especially after yesterday’s butterflies from my arsehole post; but in this day and age, is this really necessary?

Accused witch burned alive after being tortured

I mean, yes, the area has been pounded by devastating earthquakes for the last week, but c’mon. Yes, I made a “Joe and the volcano” joke yesterday about throwing Meg Ryan in the volcano to make them stop, but it was a joke.

This is not. This GIRL was 20 years old. Accused by a 6 year old BOY and viciously tortured and killed by her own village.

Groupthink IS the only Devil in this world.

This is murder. Gender based murder.

Think a positive thought for this girl and those like her please.

And today I am grateful…

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And today I am grateful…

For learning experiences that challenge me and fulfill me.

For interactions with people different from me.

For opportunities to give and receive feedback.

For healthy and amazing kids.

For unbroken toes that allow me to walk in ridiculously hot, haute, uncomfortable shoes.

For short months.

For health.

For friends.

For the ability to tell friends I love them and am thinking of them while they go through scary things. (AR you have my thoughts and alllllll my hoobie joobie.)

For friends who tell me they love me and are thinking of me while I go through scary things.

For the ability to learn and grow and understand my childhood and persona.

For the privilege of grad school and student loans.

For stargazer lilies.

For tattooed men.

For tattooed women.

For Kisha, sunflowers and the grateful dead.

For human interaction.

For broken hearts and first loves.

For love.

For hate.

For the capacity to feel both.

For unending lists of things I am grateful for.

For life.

xoxo,

Jani

 

Hey Zeus, please don’t save me.

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Hey Zeus, please don’t save me.

I often have a hard time keeping my own secular views separate from the views of people I interact with on a professional level. It is definitely something I work on, as often as I can consciously be aware of. Secular may even be too strong of a word, as I have a belief system myself. I just tend to find it does not align with the greater population’s. When one works among non-faith based organizations it is often ethically difficult for me to see how they bleed into faith based practices and not to intervene.

I understand the resilience piece of “religion.” It is very important to some people’s recovery and personal growth, their entire identity may be based in it. It’s also a definitive pro-social activity for most. It is a sense of community. Churches offer many things to many people. But to have it be the only option in some circles is frustrating.

I really find religion to be exactly as described by Marx and others. An opiate of a society. I am not an atheist. Truth be told, I believe in energy and the human need to name it. That is all. And aliens; sweet ancient baby alien space monkeys, named Jebus….

I digress.

Perhaps it is because of my own relationship or lack there of with organized religion that causes this disconnect. Guilt was the only religious icon my family of origin worshiped, and even that was in secret.  I have read into many religions and feel comfortable with my base knowledge of most. I feel that I am open minded and liberal about most things, but I have a real hang up about religion. Why is that?

I find myself judging most religions for being judgmental. I find myself wanting to offer alternatives to people that don’t want to do anything but church related activities…How do you temper that? I frustrate myself.

Cliché or not, spirituality I find inspiring, religion I find oppressive. Oy.

One thing I have realized over the years is that I find more patriarchal religions to be the most aggravating to me…perhaps it is my inner feminist that spurs my disdain. The thought is ever evolving….

Onward….