Brother can you spare a dime for your thoughts?

Do you ever feel bad about something, like something you said that hurt someone or did something that's slightly embarrassing, but everyone just shrugs it off for the sake of your feelings? The whole "don't worry about it." or "I've done that before, happens all the time..." But, you know they are just embarrassed for you and don't want you to feel worse. So you replay this embarrassment over and over in your head and even sometimes when you aren't thinking about it, it'll sneak up on you and you start thinking about it again. This happens to me all the time.
I think I have this thing that can sense idleness in my thoughts and then one of those pitiful moments pops up, like "hey, remember me? Whatever you do don't do that again..."
So, why am I telling you this? Because I saw it happen to someone else today. For once it wasn't me!
I volunteered at a homeless banquet to help hand out food to the annual Thanksgiving feast that my church throws. Spending the extra hour from daylight savings on a run today, I showed up a little after the groups were divided and I was lumped into the team that serves the food. I was partnered with someone who would carry the tray as I handed out the plates. I haven't volunteered for something like this since girl scouts when we volunteered at an elderly home -- there a senile old lady showed me her boobs.
Anyway, our pastor asked that we be kind to these people that were coming in as they were mostly lonely and enjoyed talking to people. So, being friendly (hoping to avoid any indecent exposure) I was handing out meals to my section, a man calls me over reads my nametag and says, "Danielle, how are you?" I reply ask him how he's doing and then he asks me "what do you do?" I answer him and come up short of what to say next so I ramble off I need to deliver more plates and he can let me know if he needs anything else.
Later I hear him ask the same question to someone else "what do you do?" And the girl replies with her occupation and then asks him what he does for a living...Now, before I tell you his response, I'm thinking "why did she ask that, isn't that rude?"

Sure enough, he says "girl, if I made a living would I be here getting food from you?"
There it was - what I was afraid of - she gave an instinctual response for a conversation starter, but it backfired and now she had egg on her face.
So, if she's anything like me I know she'll replay this in her head and think, "Why did I say that?" Or she'll think, "why did he ask me that!??!"
Because I wondered the same thing, not only that, but it made me feel shameful, which is the LAST thing I wanted to get out of doing this. As a volunteer I didn't feel a need to divulge whom I was outside of that space, I was here to help that was my job for the day. My real job was a divider in the room, which I wanted to leave at the door so I could help these people get a meal today, a simple task we all need, but unfortunately not widely available. So when this man introduced work into the space and ultimately economic stature it made me feel awkwardly different than him. Maybe I'm naive to think this, but for a short while when I was handing out meals in that space we were all one community. I guess that was the point of this experience, huh?
But then as I was leaving I started to think again what if the goal of that question wasn't to make anyone feel any type of way, but to remind us that we have certain blessings that we check at the door when we enter into these spaces to help create an equalizer, but it's those same blessings that allow us to create hope for the people in the room. Just something to keep in mind, when you're in your next situation and asked "brother can you spare a dime."

A Story About Sandy

A natural disaster -- not something I thought I would experience. I mean, Ohio had its snowstorms, but Shaker Schools almost NEVER closed. I mean never. So let me try to summarize for you the four days of preparing, experiencing and recovering from Sandy.

Day One: I'll label this as Sunday. I woke up early to a gloomy overcast day to run a 5 miler in central park. Successfully guilt-tripping my boyfriend into joining the cold masses of spectators at 8:30am we headed to the park at 72nd street. I stood among thousands of people as they prepared for a countdown to marathon Sunday exactly one week from that day (myself excluded). A promise from the announcer bellowed through the crowds that they have never postponed the marathon and they won't do it this year even with Sandy on the way. An encouraged crowd takes off -- I finished in a little under 43 minutes and headed to bed and then further prepare for the Sandy takeover.

Day One (evening): The bf comes over with his stash of Sandy survival tools. We cook as much food as we can with hopes of power (and microwave use) but worse case we can heat things on a gas stove (a pseudo-luxury I never knew about in Ohio, gas stoves, who knew). We spent the evening watching scary movies and eating the candy I bought for the trick or treaters. My state of mind was anticipatory, desperately checking facebook and Twitter for Sandy updates; entertaining myself with tongue in cheek remarks from friends all over the city about being prepared with candy and two bottles of water. And reading endless articles about how not to prepare for a hurricane and some of my friends doing just those very things. 7:00pm rolls around and the subways and public transportation have been shut down citywide. People were evacuated in lower Manhattan.

Day Two: I wake up to check email to see if work is still on, offices are closed pretty much all over in preparation for the storm. So I cook more...contemplate getting a pizza around 5:00pm just as the storm is picking up (unconvinced by a poll of friends and an adamant boyfriend) we move on to a prepared dinner and more scary movies. I start to feel like I'm just waiting for the next meal - what to have? Will we have power? How much weight am I gaining by being this sedentary!?
Then the wind really starts...
Granted I probably shouldn't have watched all those scary movies, but this wind had me spooked! It literally made sounds I thought only a sound machine could -- leaves being ripped from trees, air whipping around corners in a race to the next block. Crazy!
Now the events of the following days I can only attest to being witness to via social media. Fortunately, Harlem was spared and I was able to keep abreast with the situation from afar.

Day Two (evening):
Flooding started in lower Manhattan, reports online people started to lose power.

Credit LiveWire

The front of a building down the street from where I worked completely came off.

Credit: DailyNews

A power plant exploded...

The epicenter of the east coast and a considerable amount of people were left without power.

Day Three: The jokes on facebook about ill-preparedness ceased, due to lack of cell phone power and stuff got real. People without roofs, cars floating in the street, no water, no power, walking miles to charge their phones... you get it. I can't imagine what those in lower Manhattan went through, I admit I was among the lucky part of upper Manhattan, but the beating the city took was something that at the very least made you feel the ripple effect. You were stuck wherever you were -- couldn't even help those in the lower parts, since public transportation was still out.

Day Four: Present Day. Bus service started, power below 34th street still out. Things beginning to take shape. Announced limited service on subway lines! Posts on FB look more like "let me know if you need a place to shower." And updates to friends and family inquiring about their well-being.

I know natural disasters happen all over the place, and this probably won't be our last with climate change, etc., but the thought that Sandy was still 400 miles away and did the damage it did to the city is unreal. Companies, heck industries are out for days. It's not like I'm worried we won't rebound, we will; besides this city is built on a solution-oriented spirit. Know how I can tell? The marathon is still on... As day one started, the announcer called it and months of training for over 47,000 people will be tested on Sunday without postponing or plan Bs to be introduced. You can bet the run through the city will be even more precious this weekend. They'll once again see a city rebounding and millions of people forfeiting the idea of giving up -- because it's New York -- and that's what we do, we find solutions, be creative and keep making things happen. Keep your heads up everyone; we're almost there!

You're So Cray

I've confessed to this readership before I'm a little anxious - a list making, worry wart, that analyzes a situation to death with the best of them. And I know I'm not alone, in fact I can name eight kinds of crazy that I've been exposed to on a daily basis. Here's what I don't understand - I succumb to the craziness of my friends because we're similar; the whole pot calling the kettle black thing, but what I don't understand is why guys put up with crazy girls!
I mean red flags galore! Guys just don't know when enough is enough...
When a girl shows up at your door to show her new tattoo of your name in Chinese letters... she's cray.
When a girl yells at you in front of her friends and then breaks down crying asking why you're so mean...that girl is cray.
When a girl gets mad when you want to get off the phone to watch a game, or show ... and then proceeds to call your phone nineteen times because she sees you tweeting so you must not be fully engrossed with the show...she's cray.
When a girl wants to know your income before she knows your last name ... must I say it? She's cray.
When a girl calls you drunk to tell you she's drunk and around guys for no reason at all but to make you mad...that's just cray!

I could go on and on -- there are numerous and infinite examples of the craziness of girls can bestow on boys and the list continues to grow - because guys put up with it.
Here's my idea, guys put up with the crazy because they like the idea of the taming of the shrew and playing the hero. First - the shrew. The taming or "domesticating" the crazy means you've conquered it. The man has successfully passed the bar and into normalcy a place only found on the border of sane and rational relationships.  Secondly, the hero; this one is obvious, men secretly (or not so secretly) believe women need to be saved, protected and cared for. The crazy that exudes is a sign of the level of how hurt she is from a relationship prior. So, by staying the course and discovering the interworking of what makes her crazy, he'll know the secret on how she can be saved.
Crazy right? Stupid? Or the making of love?
Who knows, but after looking at this do you feel so bad about being cray?
Nope.

Happy, Slash

I've been in an information-gathering mood of late. Talking to people about their experiences, learning about different ways to live and dream, and taking advice that inspire how I can achieve my goals. And then, I stumbled across an article the other day in AdAge - an interview with Nancy Hill, that spoke about my generation's talent pool and how we present ourselves and self identify with occupations. The article calls us the "slash" generation... meaning when you ask someone today what they do for a living, you get an answer similar to "well I am ___ slash I do ____ slash also ____" a long list of qualifications. No longer do titles and nondescript credentials satisfy this generation.

It's like, if our personal stories and qualifications exceed the standard answer then it leaves us with no choice but to over-divulge information. The article calls this a "collective experience" essentially we identify ourselves not only as one thing or occupation, but as multiple experiences that add up together to make one complete picture.  But is this schizophrenic passion to be great at different things revealing my generation's inability to commit? Or is it a result of a bumpy path triggered by a less than desirable job market?

I can only say that in my experience, I have only wanted to do and be one thing -- a great writer. Now, if someone asks me what I do today -- am I a slash participant? Initially, yes, because part of my job now might be writing, but it's also managing projects. Until one day, I met someone and I gave them the slash schpeal and they told me I should stop watering down who I am with other attributes that hardly describe my interests and dreams. So, that's a piece of advice I took.
I sometimes feel like our generation over-compensates for their current positions because they are not doing what they dream of and therefore add specialties and skill sets to a seemingly straightforward answer.
It's one of those things, if you are living your dream -- then what else is there to reveal? This is all a part of that trite saying when you start to do what you're passionate about it stops feeling like work.

So instead of people in my generation being happy, they are happy slash ...

So I'm going to leave you with words of wisdom from another friend of mine. He said to me, decide today what you want to be the greatest at and make a declaration, for example, "I will be the greatest female creative writer of my generation." Now, whenever you're thinking about a decision or what to do, think, "what would the greatest female creative writer of her generation do?" And then act. So, slash generation -- pick your greatness today and lose the slash anything that looks like a division sign has to be divvying up your passion.