The very first time I worked alone in the homeless shelter, I felt completely overwhelmed, and I didn’t know how I’d make it through the night.
I was a shelter supervisor on Saturday and Sunday night from 4:00 pm to midnight. I had to work the desk phones, oversee dinner, make sure the chores were done, do any intakes that came in, hand out 9:00 pm medication for folks who had them, breathalyze the residents before they went to bed and enforce lights out, and keep notes of everything that happens for legal and case management purposes. In a shelter with, at first, 30ish, and eventually 40 residents. 40.
I’m in the midst of doing my PhD applications right now, writing my essays, hence the radio silence and lack of progress on my NaNoWriMo project. I have four apps due on Sunday and three of them are good ones in California, (where the future would be good for me and Cohiba). So I really wanna do well on them.
One of the schools to which I’m applying is Berkley, and part of their application includes a personal history statement, and it’s clear they’re looking for things about diversity. But I’m pretty WASPy. I grew up in West County (and if you know St. Louis, that’ll mean something to you.) How can I talk about diversity?
Ah, being lost in translation. I have lived most of my life in the same city, St. Louis, and so, as a Midwesterner, don’t find myself blessed with the cute regional accents of Boston or Savannah, or even Dallas. There are a few little unique things to STL, though, in a way that toasted ravioli and gooey butter cake is unique to us. Probably the most unique question and the one that newcomers notice first is: “Where’d you go to high school?” (For those of you familiar with this, I went to Parkway South.) This question is almost automatic to any STL native. It’s compulsive.
I have a friend, Ed, who moved here to go to school from Seattle, and he was working a job as a tour guide in the museum under the Arch (which, by the way, is free and really cool). He walking talking about Samual Clements, I think, or someone like that, and someone asked jokingly: “Where’d he go to high school?” Ed was like, “Does it matter?”
And John Goodman is from St. Louis and went to Affton High School, which I can see.
Perhaps needless to say, the crowd cooled to him after that. This reflects the small town nature of this city, and it also stems from something else important to understanding the city: City v. County.
There is St. Louis city and St. Louis county. And the county is actually made up of dozens of small cities, like Affton, Sunset Hills, and Hazelwood. So those little cities have their own high schools, and their own “flavor,” if you will. Part of the reason we ask about your high school is that we, frankly, stereotype people based on that. If you told me you went to Ladue, Rockwood, or MICDS, I “know” something about you. (I don’t really, but we stereotype.) Also, I can see if I knew someone who went to Ladue, Rockwood or MICDS during that time, and we forge a connection.
If someone is from south city and especially south county, they may pronounce words with an “or” like it’s “aa.” For example, Corn:Caarn. Four:Faar. This is not completely confined to the south side, but it tends to be like that. Also, the more “aa” your “a’s” are, the more hoosier you are. Which brings us to the next point:
In St. Louis, hoosier, or hoozsh for short, doesn’t mean what it does in Indiana. Here, a hoosier is sort of like a hick, but more educated. Sort of like just white trash, but a little less mean, if you will.
This prompt is good – questions. It may be flagrant self-obsession, but I think it’s interesting and I’ll try to make it enjoyable for readers.
What is your favorite word?
I love words and I love to play with them, so I don’t really have any particular favorite. Perhaps the word “Yes” to certain questions such as “Am I going to Spain?” Yes. “Will I be in Jamaica for two weeks?” Yes. “May I have a Bloody Mary?” Yes. “Will you publish my research?” Yes. “A raise?” Yes. “Go kayaking or stand up paddleboarding?” Yes.
In the cigar bar, time takes on it’s own dimension. In a cloud of smoke, I sit in my favorite chair: plush and comfy, within easy view of the bar, the front window, and the football game. A large glass table in front of me on which to prop my feet and set my computer. Cohiba and I spend many a happy evening in this bar, and we had engagement pictures taken here. It is not unusual for us to make friends over this table, meeting a varied assortment of people.
Google search, where would I be without you? This week, as I am undertaking my first NaNoWriMo, as well as ticking down the days before my first PhD application is due, I am a faithful visitor to Google.
A daily prompt invited me to write about my weaknesses, or rather, the harshest but really accurate piece of feedback (criticism) I’ve ever gotten. I started to comment on it a few days ago, but got sidetracked.
I found this prompt asking me to poke into corners of my memory better left undisturbed, the neat packages that you can barely see for the shadows around them. Because I rarely poke into them, I liked the challenge of looking into something new. So, though I’m a few days late to reply to this prompt, I still like the exercise.
Okay, so the response to this prompt about not being able to verbally express yourself is kind of a gimme.
After my car accident and the coma, I had word finding problems, which is common for head injury. That didn’t make it more manageable at the time. It took me sooo long to get a sentence out, because I was trying to remember what I wanted to say! I felt so awkward with my friends because I felt so damaged and inadequate. My friend Darren from rehab was such a blessing for me during that time, ’cause we both spoke slowly, so I didn’t feel inadequate around him. I also remember the frustration I felt at not being able to communicate with others, and fearing that I wouldn’t get better; that I’d be trapped inside myself.
I normally don’t talk a lot about work; don’t grouse about what it’s like here, because I want to keep this blog separate from all that. However, I’m going to talk about it today, because we’ve moved offices!!
This is a change that I”ve been aksing for over the past several years, we just haven’t had the time or money or support to do it. Today it’s happened, and for the first time, I’m in an office with natural light. I’m sitting a bit away from windows so people aren’t staring at me all the time. There are plants in here.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 