Dear Internet,
You might have guessed that ERT is responding to Hurricane Sandy, and you're right. They're heading to New York City today, and I've been thinking about it all morning. Wondering what it will be like - it's so different from the small city responses I've been involved with (Joplin, Branson). They'll be outside the city instead of downtown, most likely, but still - it's so far from Missouri and so different. I'm wishing really hard that I was with them for this one.
Disaster response is unlike anything I've ever done in how hard it pushes you to be your best for other people. When you get there, all of a sudden your needs are secondary to the needs of an entire community - sleeping and eating are scheduled around your work, and it's all-consuming in a way that few things I've experienced are. Schoolwork could sometimes be that way for me (not kidding), but here, the stakes are so much higher. If you don't give your all in a disaster, you don't just get a bad grade on a paper - people have a hard time keeping their homes warm or feeding their kids. It's incredibly stressful and exhausting, but also so rewarding and exhilarating. I miss it.
If any of you guys read this, know I'm thinking of you and wishing I could help. You guys seriously rock, and good luck with everything!
xoxo Liz
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Mug quote
Dear Internet,
Yesterday I bought a mug at the dollar store and wrote this quote on it in Sharpie:
Then I baked it at 350 for 30 minutes & now it's permanently on there. I like it. It's a good reminder to start your day with.
That's all.
xoxo Liz
Yesterday I bought a mug at the dollar store and wrote this quote on it in Sharpie:
Then I baked it at 350 for 30 minutes & now it's permanently on there. I like it. It's a good reminder to start your day with.
That's all.
xoxo Liz
Monday, October 15, 2012
Dogsitting
xoxo Liz
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The ERT-iest day
Dear Internet,
Sorry my last post was such a downer. It was the truth, but a sort of depressing truth. I went to see ERT over Columbus Day weekend and that has made me considerably happier! Hopefully this post has the same effect on you :)
Anyway, I took the LSAT Saturday morning (accompanied with a not-insignificant amount of stress when I realized, 45 minutes before the test was to start, that I was completely unprepared... had to drive to the office with my hair still wet to get the admission ticket I had left there, take a photo of my[not attractive]self with my phone, print it, and steal everyone's pencils...) and I guess it went fine. Whatever.
That evening, I drove out to Butte/Fleecer to see the team. We had a great time Saturday night and hung around Butte on Sunday. Will and I went to see Taken 2. It was less than inspiring; much cheesier than the cinematic masterpiece of Taken. Anyway.
Since I had Monday off for Columbus Day (I wasn't supposed to, but the MLSA office where I work was closed for the day, so what's a girl to do? Yippee!), I decided to go out on project with Will's team. A number of things collided perfectly to allow this to happen:
We headed off to Canyon Creek - one of the more breathtaking places we visit - to deliver the wood. There are two ways into Canyon Creek: via the highway, or the shorter, albeit terrifying back road along mountain ledges. Since a first year was driving the other truck, and she was from New Jersey, we opted for the highway route. However, we chose the wrong exit, not having entered Canyon Creek that way before. The resulting ride was much more stressful and fun than the mountain-ledge-route would ever have been.
There were two water crossings of the creek, a section so rocky we feared we'd bottom out and tear the brake lines or something, and steep descents and ascents galore. Plus the map was somewhat confusing. Will and I were at the head of the convoy and when we finally made it to the Charcoal Kilns, which, if you'll remember, are just up the road from Canyon Creek Canyon (or maybe not since I didn't actually tell you that in my earlier post), we decided to entertain ourselves and pretend to be hopelessly lost. We opened the map up all the way and presented it to the four first years with us ("Are you guys any good with maps? I have no idea where we are..."). Tom, who is probably the nicest person ever, even pretended to be mad at Will for getting us lost ("What were you thinking!?") and asked if the first years remembered where we were going ("What is it called...? Crystal something...?"). Will voiced the opinion that we should just give up ("Let's call it a day and just dump the wood somewhere. We can come back later for it..."). It was somewhat discouraging that the first years, even when given the map and told that we had started out going south on I-15 (which I pointed out) couldn't find where we were, even though the Charcoal Kilns (not to mention Canyon Creek Cabin) were marked in bright red on the map....
Anyway, after that bit of fun, we "stumbled upon" the Cabin, unloaded the wood, and were just finishing up when we started hearing lots of radio traffic about a fire.
Then we heard Bruce get on the radio.
If I haven't mentioned it before, Bruce, the founder of ERT loves fire. We suspected last year that he started them himself just so he could fight them. It's at that level. Suddenly, we hear ourselves being volunteered to fight the fire, and Bruce radioed us, asking if we were prepared.
We were not. I don't even own Nomex (fire-retardant clothing) anymore, having given it back to ERT at the end of my year. Will and Tom didn't have theirs with them (the last time ERT was on a fire out west was 5 years ago, it doesn't happen often!), and none of the first years have had any fire training, so they were automatically out. Still, we said we'd be there, and began the drive to the Fourth of July Campground near Wise River.
After a bit of confusion (and the arrival of one of the other ERT leaders and a second year from Fleecer, bearing Nomex for Tom and Will), we were sent out on various tasks. I helped Bruce with some hose (which mainly entailed me following him around and jumping in his truck as quickly as I could while he took off on tasks that went unexplained to me), then followed Will around while he dropped hazard trees at the perimeter of the fire. Some of them he cut down while the bases were on fire, a dangerous task since his fire boots are wearing very thin. Two helicopters were flown in from Helena to drop retardant on the flames, which was exciting, since I've never been on a fire with helicopters before.
In all, the blaze was contained pretty quickly - what we had heard was a 20-40 acre wildfire as we were driving there turned out to be only 12.5 acres. Good thing they got it early, though, as it was right next to a mountain that it would have raced up, trying to climb. It could have been a lot worse. Still a pretty exciting end to what was supposed to be a relaxed, fun day with ERT.
After about five hours at the fire, we finally left around 9pm and all went back to Fleecer. Will and I ate jalapeno cheddar hot dogs (delicious) and I took off for Helena, sore and tired and happy.
I had a great time running a saw and driving around and fighting fire with ERT. It was an awesome day, much better than whatever else I would have wasted my time with on my day off (with no studying left to do, whoop whoop!).
But it's not my place anymore. It's not where I belong. A new group of people are here to experience all the things that ERT will bring them. I'm thankful for my experiences, but they're not what I want to do forever. (It would, however, be awesome if I could just moonlight as a sawyer/firefighter/ERT-er from time to time). As awesome my Columbus Day was, it really just affirmed that it's not what I want to do every day, and I probably wouldn't have been totally happy with the choice to stay with ERT for another year. This doesn't mean I won't miss it, but my Columbus Day was a sort of restorative; it put me back into a good frame of mind and gave me some perspective and basis for comparison.
If I made the right choice in coming to LSNTAP and Helena, I don't know. But that's at least one question answered, which is pretty good if you ask me for a holiday that no one ever remembers anyway.
xoxo Liz.
P.S. I said I wanted to brighten up your day, so if that didn't do it, how about this?
Sorry my last post was such a downer. It was the truth, but a sort of depressing truth. I went to see ERT over Columbus Day weekend and that has made me considerably happier! Hopefully this post has the same effect on you :)
Anyway, I took the LSAT Saturday morning (accompanied with a not-insignificant amount of stress when I realized, 45 minutes before the test was to start, that I was completely unprepared... had to drive to the office with my hair still wet to get the admission ticket I had left there, take a photo of my[not attractive]self with my phone, print it, and steal everyone's pencils...) and I guess it went fine. Whatever.
That evening, I drove out to Butte/Fleecer to see the team. We had a great time Saturday night and hung around Butte on Sunday. Will and I went to see Taken 2. It was less than inspiring; much cheesier than the cinematic masterpiece of Taken. Anyway.
Since I had Monday off for Columbus Day (I wasn't supposed to, but the MLSA office where I work was closed for the day, so what's a girl to do? Yippee!), I decided to go out on project with Will's team. A number of things collided perfectly to allow this to happen:
- Will's team was hauling firewood, so they were driving 2 trucks instead of one, meaning that the entire team didn't have to cram into one truck, meaning that there was room for me.
- One of the new leaders of ERT, Tom, was driving back to Fleecer that night for a flight the next morning, so I had a ride back to my car.
- Angie from last year had given Sara, a second year her fire boots to see if they fit. Since they were extra, Sara let me borrow them for the day since we were on federal land, and regulations require 8-inch leather boots in order to cut... something I don't just have in my closet.
We headed off to Canyon Creek - one of the more breathtaking places we visit - to deliver the wood. There are two ways into Canyon Creek: via the highway, or the shorter, albeit terrifying back road along mountain ledges. Since a first year was driving the other truck, and she was from New Jersey, we opted for the highway route. However, we chose the wrong exit, not having entered Canyon Creek that way before. The resulting ride was much more stressful and fun than the mountain-ledge-route would ever have been.
There were two water crossings of the creek, a section so rocky we feared we'd bottom out and tear the brake lines or something, and steep descents and ascents galore. Plus the map was somewhat confusing. Will and I were at the head of the convoy and when we finally made it to the Charcoal Kilns, which, if you'll remember, are just up the road from Canyon Creek Canyon (or maybe not since I didn't actually tell you that in my earlier post), we decided to entertain ourselves and pretend to be hopelessly lost. We opened the map up all the way and presented it to the four first years with us ("Are you guys any good with maps? I have no idea where we are..."). Tom, who is probably the nicest person ever, even pretended to be mad at Will for getting us lost ("What were you thinking!?") and asked if the first years remembered where we were going ("What is it called...? Crystal something...?"). Will voiced the opinion that we should just give up ("Let's call it a day and just dump the wood somewhere. We can come back later for it..."). It was somewhat discouraging that the first years, even when given the map and told that we had started out going south on I-15 (which I pointed out) couldn't find where we were, even though the Charcoal Kilns (not to mention Canyon Creek Cabin) were marked in bright red on the map....
Anyway, after that bit of fun, we "stumbled upon" the Cabin, unloaded the wood, and were just finishing up when we started hearing lots of radio traffic about a fire.
Then we heard Bruce get on the radio.
If I haven't mentioned it before, Bruce, the founder of ERT loves fire. We suspected last year that he started them himself just so he could fight them. It's at that level. Suddenly, we hear ourselves being volunteered to fight the fire, and Bruce radioed us, asking if we were prepared.
We were not. I don't even own Nomex (fire-retardant clothing) anymore, having given it back to ERT at the end of my year. Will and Tom didn't have theirs with them (the last time ERT was on a fire out west was 5 years ago, it doesn't happen often!), and none of the first years have had any fire training, so they were automatically out. Still, we said we'd be there, and began the drive to the Fourth of July Campground near Wise River.
After a bit of confusion (and the arrival of one of the other ERT leaders and a second year from Fleecer, bearing Nomex for Tom and Will), we were sent out on various tasks. I helped Bruce with some hose (which mainly entailed me following him around and jumping in his truck as quickly as I could while he took off on tasks that went unexplained to me), then followed Will around while he dropped hazard trees at the perimeter of the fire. Some of them he cut down while the bases were on fire, a dangerous task since his fire boots are wearing very thin. Two helicopters were flown in from Helena to drop retardant on the flames, which was exciting, since I've never been on a fire with helicopters before.
 |
| A pretty neat truck; the operator could control where the hose sprayed from the driver's seat (prompting Will to say [jokingly], "We could have used that at Occupy St Louis...") |
In all, the blaze was contained pretty quickly - what we had heard was a 20-40 acre wildfire as we were driving there turned out to be only 12.5 acres. Good thing they got it early, though, as it was right next to a mountain that it would have raced up, trying to climb. It could have been a lot worse. Still a pretty exciting end to what was supposed to be a relaxed, fun day with ERT.
After about five hours at the fire, we finally left around 9pm and all went back to Fleecer. Will and I ate jalapeno cheddar hot dogs (delicious) and I took off for Helena, sore and tired and happy.
I had a great time running a saw and driving around and fighting fire with ERT. It was an awesome day, much better than whatever else I would have wasted my time with on my day off (with no studying left to do, whoop whoop!).
But it's not my place anymore. It's not where I belong. A new group of people are here to experience all the things that ERT will bring them. I'm thankful for my experiences, but they're not what I want to do forever. (It would, however, be awesome if I could just moonlight as a sawyer/firefighter/ERT-er from time to time). As awesome my Columbus Day was, it really just affirmed that it's not what I want to do every day, and I probably wouldn't have been totally happy with the choice to stay with ERT for another year. This doesn't mean I won't miss it, but my Columbus Day was a sort of restorative; it put me back into a good frame of mind and gave me some perspective and basis for comparison.
If I made the right choice in coming to LSNTAP and Helena, I don't know. But that's at least one question answered, which is pretty good if you ask me for a holiday that no one ever remembers anyway.
xoxo Liz.
P.S. I said I wanted to brighten up your day, so if that didn't do it, how about this?
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
It's suddenly cold here.
Dear Internet,
It's been in the 70s-ish since I moved to Helena. All of a sudden today, it's 40 degrees out and miserable. Worse, I saw snow.
This is how I feel:
It's been in the 70s-ish since I moved to Helena. All of a sudden today, it's 40 degrees out and miserable. Worse, I saw snow.
This is how I feel:
It's supposed to be back up in the 60s next week... one can only hope.
xoxo Liz
Monday, October 1, 2012
So far the hardest part about growing up is deciding what I want.
Dear Internet,
Usually, for your benefit and my level of happiness, I try to keep my posts very upbeat. I try to skate over negative things that happen and post pretty pictures of good things that happen. I think it's healthy to focus on the positive and it makes for better reading. But more pensive times have come.
Not to be a Debbie Downer, or anything. I just wanted to sort out my thoughts and writing helps with that. The thing is, I am not enjoying my job lately; partly - say 60 percent - because I'm not busy enough, but also - 40 percent - because I'm just not finding it as fulfilling as I thought I would. Also - 100 percent - because I miss life in ERT.
I'll clarify. The not-busy part is easily enough overcome. My supervisor, Brian and I meet twice-ish a week via Skype and he gives me lists of projects to work on; for the last week or two, the lists don't last as long as the time in between Skype chats. I've gotten in touch with him to ask for more to do, but even the updated lists don't fill up all the empty time. I also feel like I'm invading his work time by constantly bugging him for more to do. I probably need to get over that. Regardless, I end up surfing Facebook or Pinterest for a few hours a day. A certain percentage of Internet trolling is not out of place in a work day, mind you, but when it's several hours' worth I get really frustrated, but there's just nothing left on my list of projects.
One of the things that I kind of knew/suspected about this job when I began was that I would have to be a bit more of a self-starter. I knew I wouldn't have a team around me, working hard at a given task and getting me to work alongside them. I knew it would be up to me. So I need to start finding things to do, relevant things that fill my hours, my own projects. It's just a kind of strange transition. When I think about it, I've always kind of had someone guide what I'm working on - a supervisor, a professor, etc. I still have a supervisor, of course, but I'm going to have to start to fill in gaps.
Then there's the not-so-fulfilling part. This is in part due to the fact that I don't actually interact with humans in the course of my work - even though I work in an office full of great people, I don't have to speak to a single one of them during the day to do my job. I'm a sort of satellite for the Seattle office of NTAP, so I'm not working on any of the same things as the people here in MLSA. Furthermore, the people I'm serving as a VISTA are the lawyers - who I don't see or work directly with - who then help people who are even more remote from me. It's tough to feel like I'm actually accomplishing anything or doing anything good at all. The end results of my work are all digital - blog posts, videos, and Tweets - just a bunch of 0s and 1s.
This one's harder to deal with, but not impossible. A few weeks ago, the Executive Director of MLSA mentioned training me on the help desk that MLSA runs (not the NTAP help desk that I staff). I would actually be able to help callers find legal help (I think; there's a fine line between what a non-lawyer can and cannot say to potential clients). That would be a good thing for me to get involved in if it's okay by Brian, so of course I should check with both the Executive Director and Brian. Other than that, I think I just need to try to remember that I am doing something worthwhile. I think.
Overall, the hardest part of the transition into this job is its sheer contrast with ERT. Everything I can think of is different: instead of working outside with a team of four or five, I work by myself in front of a computer. Instead of never really knowing where I'm going next, I have a very regular (bordering on boring) schedule. Instead of constantly having people around, even in the off hours, I'm usually on my own. I laugh less. I miss everyone. I miss Soulard.
As I've been growing up, I've of course been trying to figure out what I want to do, which direction I should choose in life. I'm still not sure what I want to do for work - my main hesitation in applying to law/grad school, which I had planned to do this fall - but I've found how I want to live. It's funny, I was always pretty introverted and liked having time to myself, but I just loved life in ERT. I practically lived at the Shenandoah apartments, surrounded by people who felt like my family, in good ways and bad. They drove me nuts and there was no privacy, but we just had this amazing level of comfort with one another; amazing at least to me. ERT was the first time I felt comfortable wearing little to no makeup, for example. Those people saw me at my worst, frustrated and angry and bored throwing sticks at Peck Ranch in February. And they didn't hate me for it. I learned a lot from them, more than I at first thought that they could teach me. I miss them a lot.
Unexpectedly, I also really miss Soulard. That little neighborhood felt like it belonged to us and we belonged to it. I've never felt that way about a place before. It was exactly right for who we all were and where we were in our lives. I used to joke that Soulard felt like a campus and it did; Shenandoah was our dorm-slash-frat house. I guess I was just never "in" on that stuff in college, so it came as a revelation. It was great.
I wish I could live like that again, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I never will, and this makes me sad. I was talking to Will a few weeks ago after he returned to Shenandoah from the time-honored tradition of $2 pitchers on Sunday nights at Llewelyn's, and he was telling me about poking fun at another member of the team last year, Clare. Clare was returning to pick up her truck at Shenandoah and he started hollering at her, just trying to get a rise out of her (as he does). I could see the whole thing: the steps of Shenandoah looking out over Pontiac Park, Clare's teal pickup truck parked across the street, busy 7th Avenue off to the right and groups of ERT members straggling up the cracked sidewalks of 9th, lit intermittently by the streetlights. For some reason, at that particular moment, I missed Soulard and ERT and all of it so bad that it hurt. Unlike the things I listed above, there's not a cure for this one, except time, maybe. I don't want to forget what ERT life was like, even if I never live it again. Especially then.
The long and short of all this is that this job is feeling less like something I'm looking forward to this year and more a like a trap; something I committed to and now I just have to get through it. I'm wondering if it was worth it, and - right now - saying no. I took this job because, as much as I loved ERT, it wasn't the kind of work I could see myself spending my life on and I thought that in staying another year I would feel stuck. I could potentially see myself going to law school, working in legal aid, etc. etc. I knew that the life would be different but I thought that the work would be good. But now that the job is not all I had hoped and dreamed, I just don't know. I don't know.
I guess the silver lining is that I'm learning a bit more about what I want in life, and what I don't want. I just wish it didn't have to be the hard way.
xoxo Liz
P.S. Thanks guys, that helped.
Usually, for your benefit and my level of happiness, I try to keep my posts very upbeat. I try to skate over negative things that happen and post pretty pictures of good things that happen. I think it's healthy to focus on the positive and it makes for better reading. But more pensive times have come.
Not to be a Debbie Downer, or anything. I just wanted to sort out my thoughts and writing helps with that. The thing is, I am not enjoying my job lately; partly - say 60 percent - because I'm not busy enough, but also - 40 percent - because I'm just not finding it as fulfilling as I thought I would. Also - 100 percent - because I miss life in ERT.
I'll clarify. The not-busy part is easily enough overcome. My supervisor, Brian and I meet twice-ish a week via Skype and he gives me lists of projects to work on; for the last week or two, the lists don't last as long as the time in between Skype chats. I've gotten in touch with him to ask for more to do, but even the updated lists don't fill up all the empty time. I also feel like I'm invading his work time by constantly bugging him for more to do. I probably need to get over that. Regardless, I end up surfing Facebook or Pinterest for a few hours a day. A certain percentage of Internet trolling is not out of place in a work day, mind you, but when it's several hours' worth I get really frustrated, but there's just nothing left on my list of projects.
One of the things that I kind of knew/suspected about this job when I began was that I would have to be a bit more of a self-starter. I knew I wouldn't have a team around me, working hard at a given task and getting me to work alongside them. I knew it would be up to me. So I need to start finding things to do, relevant things that fill my hours, my own projects. It's just a kind of strange transition. When I think about it, I've always kind of had someone guide what I'm working on - a supervisor, a professor, etc. I still have a supervisor, of course, but I'm going to have to start to fill in gaps.
Then there's the not-so-fulfilling part. This is in part due to the fact that I don't actually interact with humans in the course of my work - even though I work in an office full of great people, I don't have to speak to a single one of them during the day to do my job. I'm a sort of satellite for the Seattle office of NTAP, so I'm not working on any of the same things as the people here in MLSA. Furthermore, the people I'm serving as a VISTA are the lawyers - who I don't see or work directly with - who then help people who are even more remote from me. It's tough to feel like I'm actually accomplishing anything or doing anything good at all. The end results of my work are all digital - blog posts, videos, and Tweets - just a bunch of 0s and 1s.
This one's harder to deal with, but not impossible. A few weeks ago, the Executive Director of MLSA mentioned training me on the help desk that MLSA runs (not the NTAP help desk that I staff). I would actually be able to help callers find legal help (I think; there's a fine line between what a non-lawyer can and cannot say to potential clients). That would be a good thing for me to get involved in if it's okay by Brian, so of course I should check with both the Executive Director and Brian. Other than that, I think I just need to try to remember that I am doing something worthwhile. I think.
Overall, the hardest part of the transition into this job is its sheer contrast with ERT. Everything I can think of is different: instead of working outside with a team of four or five, I work by myself in front of a computer. Instead of never really knowing where I'm going next, I have a very regular (bordering on boring) schedule. Instead of constantly having people around, even in the off hours, I'm usually on my own. I laugh less. I miss everyone. I miss Soulard.
As I've been growing up, I've of course been trying to figure out what I want to do, which direction I should choose in life. I'm still not sure what I want to do for work - my main hesitation in applying to law/grad school, which I had planned to do this fall - but I've found how I want to live. It's funny, I was always pretty introverted and liked having time to myself, but I just loved life in ERT. I practically lived at the Shenandoah apartments, surrounded by people who felt like my family, in good ways and bad. They drove me nuts and there was no privacy, but we just had this amazing level of comfort with one another; amazing at least to me. ERT was the first time I felt comfortable wearing little to no makeup, for example. Those people saw me at my worst, frustrated and angry and bored throwing sticks at Peck Ranch in February. And they didn't hate me for it. I learned a lot from them, more than I at first thought that they could teach me. I miss them a lot.
Unexpectedly, I also really miss Soulard. That little neighborhood felt like it belonged to us and we belonged to it. I've never felt that way about a place before. It was exactly right for who we all were and where we were in our lives. I used to joke that Soulard felt like a campus and it did; Shenandoah was our dorm-slash-frat house. I guess I was just never "in" on that stuff in college, so it came as a revelation. It was great.
I wish I could live like that again, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I never will, and this makes me sad. I was talking to Will a few weeks ago after he returned to Shenandoah from the time-honored tradition of $2 pitchers on Sunday nights at Llewelyn's, and he was telling me about poking fun at another member of the team last year, Clare. Clare was returning to pick up her truck at Shenandoah and he started hollering at her, just trying to get a rise out of her (as he does). I could see the whole thing: the steps of Shenandoah looking out over Pontiac Park, Clare's teal pickup truck parked across the street, busy 7th Avenue off to the right and groups of ERT members straggling up the cracked sidewalks of 9th, lit intermittently by the streetlights. For some reason, at that particular moment, I missed Soulard and ERT and all of it so bad that it hurt. Unlike the things I listed above, there's not a cure for this one, except time, maybe. I don't want to forget what ERT life was like, even if I never live it again. Especially then.
The long and short of all this is that this job is feeling less like something I'm looking forward to this year and more a like a trap; something I committed to and now I just have to get through it. I'm wondering if it was worth it, and - right now - saying no. I took this job because, as much as I loved ERT, it wasn't the kind of work I could see myself spending my life on and I thought that in staying another year I would feel stuck. I could potentially see myself going to law school, working in legal aid, etc. etc. I knew that the life would be different but I thought that the work would be good. But now that the job is not all I had hoped and dreamed, I just don't know. I don't know.
I guess the silver lining is that I'm learning a bit more about what I want in life, and what I don't want. I just wish it didn't have to be the hard way.
xoxo Liz
P.S. Thanks guys, that helped.
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