Category 2 - Surviving Life After College

Piles of Books

March 13, 2019 by Josephine Journeyman Leave a Comment

This year brought an unexpected change in my life. After four and a half years living in my apartment, I had to move. I have a hard time with change, so sometimes a kick in the pants from fate is exactly what I need. It was challenging, and I think my cat misses his squirrels, but as of January 31 I am all moved in to a new place.

That sounds relatively straightforward. In reality, there were a lot of emotions and an overwhelming sense of “where did all this crap come from?!” I am impressed by book collectors who whittle their collections down after moving once or twice. Even after hours of carrying bags and bags and boxes and bags of books down and up stairs, I mostly felt inspired to read more (albeit with the goal of giving away books after having read them).

Tsundoku

In the midst of my move, as Marie Kondo’s Netflix show alternately threatened or inspired readers across the country, I read an article about tsundoku. This is a Japanese word for the collection of books you build up on a shelf or bedside table waiting to be read. What a useful word! The article collected photos of people’s tsundoku, too. Some people had hundreds of books waiting to be read. But many people had five, ten, or maybe thirty.

Even reflecting on those people now, I’m kind of baffled. A life with few books is not necessarily a life I would want, but part of me does wonder how that would feel. The restraint, the free shelf space. As a person who rarely rereads books, I’ll give away most of the books I own after I’ve read them. The joy I get from books is partly the anticipation of a good read and partly the act of reading.

Tsundoku — One small part of my tsundoku.

Moving my books to a new apartment made me more aware of what I have in my collection. While I’ve only read two of my own books since moving (hey, I’ve read a lot of library books so far this year), I’m feeling inspired to read locally more often. I read an advance copy of a book, and I’m especially happy to give it away knowing it was not my cup of tea. I read a short parable about cats. And now I’m happily enjoying an Ellery Queen novel that was printed during World War II. This book in particular reminds me that reading is such a joy.

At the end of the day, that’s what Marie Kondo seems to want for her clients and people in general: a home comprised of things that make them happy. When your pile of books gets to be too overwhelming, or is a carrier for emotional baggage, that’s the time to rethink your collection. I’m spending quite a bit of time this year thinking about the pleasure of reading. Here’s to a guilt-free, joy-inspiring tsundoku!

Not Just Enduring Endurance Sports

May 19, 2018 by Josephine Journeyman 3 Comments

A few weeks ago, I ran a 50k race. That’s roughly 31 miles. I don’t think of myself as a crazy person, but the look on some people’s faces when I tell them about it says otherwise. What I wish I could convey to them, though, is the amazing feeling I get from long distance running. I remember running a few miles to stay or get in shape during college or in the few years afterwards. It was something I did for the outcome. Calories burned, maybe a little rush of endorphins. Inevitably, I would get sick with a cold because of the freezing winter air, and then I’d give up running again.

Then, a few years ago, my friend at work asked me to run a leg in a marathon relay. “Yeesh. Ok, well I can sign on for one of the shorter legs. I could definitely work up to running four miles.”

Over the course of the week, I got bumped up to a six mile leg. “If that’s what I have to do for the team.”

A week later, my friend told me we would just sign up for the ten mile race. That way we wouldn’t have to rely on the team members all showing up for the race. “I can try, but that’s farther than I’ve ever run before. I don’t know if I can do it.”

Wearing my finisher’s medal after my 10 mile run.

But I did, and I felt like I had enough energy for a few more miles. It was an amazing feeling. I ran through Denver, being cheered on by the masses, running through Mile High Stadium, and generally feeling badass. All of which spurred me to run my first half marathon (with lots of help from my uncle, who ran with me for several miles), and eventually my first marathon. The marathon was quite an experience. People voiced their amazement when I talked about my training, but I was training with my friend, which made it seem much more manageable. A lot of people have running a marathon on their bucket lists these days, so it seemed relatively understandable to friends and family.

As soon as I could, I signed up for another half marathon, a year from my marathon in the same race series. And I had the feeling that I could do even better if I ran another marathon. But along the way to signing up for another I had a niggling thought: “I could run a 50k. It’s only five more miles.” The road to a 50k, at least in my case, was a relatively slow progression. Ten miles is crazy! Oh, I did it. A half marathon feels so far! Well, too bad, you already signed up for a marathon, so you better be able to manage it. Before I knew it, I was the crazy person who was excited for a 50k. A 50k run on a loop course, where each loop was 1.3 miles long. Meaning I would run 24 laps. Life is strange.

The 50k

To talk about my whole experience of my first 50k might be boring. But I will. (Ok, only highlights.) It was a Saturday of wet snow, in Brighton, Colorado, at a park. I was nervous about the weather and the distance, but also ready to see where my training would get me. The first two hours were great, other than losing my phone by the end of the second loop, and regaining it at the aid station later. Because of the snow and resulting puddles on the course, I was soaked within the first few laps. Luckily, though, I wasn’t too hot or cold. My goal was to try to keep going, and spend as little time as possible under cover at the aid station. Better to avoid any temptation to quit or take my time, and instead relax at the end.

The third hour started to feel more difficult. For me, the midpoint of any race is a mental struggle. The first third of the race, I can tell myself, “Cool! Five laps down, and feeling strong. Just 19 more!” But then I get to the middle third, and start getting tired. It’s much harder then to say that to myself, because my reaction is, “Oh my god, I don’t know why I’m doing this anymore. What is my life? This is taking forever.” So this race I had a plan to listen to “Anna Faris Is Unqualified,” a podcast, when things got tough. I got to spend the 45 minutes before my phone died laughing at Sim, Anna, and their guest, not thinking about each step of the race so seriously.

That kept me feeling positive just long enough for my amazing friends to show up with signs and loud cheering. They helped me at the aid station with changing my soaking socks, lent me wool gloves, and remained upbeat in the face of my exhaustion. I felt, and still feel, so grateful for their support and presence.

The last two hours were probably the hardest, with a little more walking. I didn’t walk as much as I expected to, and I tried to always run by my friends. It helped to take advantage of that positive energy. And of course, I finished strong. I ran as hard as I could for the last quarter lap, so I would know that I put everything into that race that I possibly could. And then I ate chili and hot chocolate with my friends. Even though it might seem strange, I loved running that race and seeing that I had it in me. For those of you who are crazy too, I would highly recommend the Runs with Scissors race.

I celebrated, and came home to flowers from a very nice man. A month later, I’m ready for a half marathon. It will be slow, but fun. Gradually over the last several months I have finally started to think of myself as a runner. It’s almost time to find the next adventure.

At the aid station after the Runs with Scissors 50k.

Saying Goodbye

April 8, 2018 by Josephine Journeyman 1 Comment

Five and almost a half years ago, I had my first day of work at a new job as a shelver for the library. I was so excited to start a new job, and I remember celebrating with friends on the night I got the offer. On my first day at work, I was quickly shown around the library. “Here’s the children’s DVD shelving, here’s the juvenile nonfiction, here are the early readers…. Okay, so that’s the library. Go ahead and shelve a cart. Let us know if you have a question.”

At that point, I was still working part time at the Acrapolis, sanding drywall, digging up sumac roots, and generally remodeling. Then I eventually got a second position at the library that gave me full-time hours, which brought with it more changes than I had expected. New coworkers, tough hours, and some new responsibilities that were somewhat divisive. I learned about good leadership and work politics. Then I got into graduate school, and got a new supervisor. Grad school had its own challenges, but I was able to take on new responsibilities at work and connect with great people.

Five and a half years feels like so much and so little time. I’m three weeks into a new professional position, and it’s hard to imagine ever feeling so lost in my last two positions. While it is great to use my degree and work with a good team, I have also been missing my former coworkers and the comfort of competency. The challenge is exciting though. There are already new projects and ideas I’m in charge of, and I’m ready to prove myself. Here’s to an exciting next five years.

Celebrating the New

Here are a few new items that don’t have anything in common, other than being newly released on DVD or in print. I recently spent several weeks reading and watching a lot of content. Enjoy!

Marshall

Based on Thurgood Marshall’s career early in his life, Marshall follows one particular case for which he provided a defense through the NAACP. An African American chauffeur was charged with raping the white woman he drove, and Marshall’s job was to make sure he got a fair trial in spite of his color. Marshall is a charming character who adds humor and dignity to this story. In spite of the serious issues of racism and the severity of the alleged crime, the movie is accessible and, of course, remains relevant to today’s political climate. I would recommend it.

Coco

Coco is an excellent film, full of color and energy. Miguel wants to be a musician like his idol Ernesto de la Cruz, but his grandmother has forbidden music in their family. Her grandfather left the family to try to become a famous musician. Still, Miguel wants so badly to play that he borrows Ernesto’s guitar from his tomb. Having stolen from the dead, he needs a blessing from his family before dawn in order to counteract the curse he incurred and return home from the land of the dead. This is a great movie about intergenerational relationships and music. It’s one of the best films I’ve seen for a while.

Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann

David Grann, the author of The Lost City of Z, recently wrote this nonfiction book about the oil boom in the Osage Nation during the 1920s, and the multitude of murders that took place there. With the oil boom, the Osage had vast amounts of money at their disposal. They had maids and mansions, and the towns were thriving. Then the murders started. People were shot, houses were blown up, and no one felt safe. Grann talks about the tensions between the Osage and the American government in this narrative nonfiction. Killers of the Flower Moon is a discouraging look at American history, and an important story. I didn’t enjoy this book nearly as much as Grann’s previous book though, and if you choose to read it, I would strongly recommend not listening to the audiobook. It was narrated by three people, none of whom seemed right for the role.

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

Wang’s graphic novel is a beautiful story of young love, acceptance, and fashion. After designing a controversial dress for the prince’s ball, a young dressmaker is invited to work at the palace. She finds that she has been hired to create dresses for the prince. By day, the prince endures his parents’ search for his future bride, but by night he wears the incredible dresses at public events. This book is so colorfully illustrated, and the story is an ode to fashion. But it also shares an idealism and hope that is contagious. I highly recommend this book.

I’ll be back again soon with more recommendations. Until then, have fun reading!

Reading, Finding an Apartment, and Life

June 1, 2014 by Josephine Journeyman 2 Comments

Having just finished a grueling month of reading ten of the books I had checked out from the library, I think it might be time to reflect a little on the act of reading and some of its effects. Particularly in the last few days, I have found myself feeling a certain way that I don’t completely understand. Challenging myself to read a book every three days added immensely to the way the emotions and plots of books seeped into my everyday life, and I’m not sure it was a very good thing.

I was an English major at Colorado College, so I am used to reading a lot in a short amount of time. The block plan, in which you have three and a half weeks of one class at a time and then it’s finished, allows you to focus on a subject, but you might find yourself too imbued in it to think straight about other things. One particular time that I found myself going a little crazy from literature and the criticism of it was during my senior seminar.

Patrimony, a book I do not like. — Patrimony, a Book I Do Not Like

My senior seminar had the broad but intriguing focus of narratology. Lots of unreliable narrators, discussions on how a story is put together, and a wide range of texts. I remember one particular week during which I had to read Patrimony by Philip Roth and several literary analyses of horror films, along with another text. The night I finished Patrimony, a book which I absolutely loathed, I cried and cried about the ending and the whole story and probably about not getting enough sleep, too. When I went down to our apartment’s kitchen to make a late supper, my roommate Andi was there, and I started crying all over again when she asked me what I was upset about. That alone might not sound too crazy, but the next night she scared me to death in the kitchen because I’d been reading about horror films. Luckily, she understood that my senior seminar was fairly demanding, or I think my hysteria might have scared her off.

This month, I have been trying to find a new apartment, since my lease ends at the beginning of July. That is a very important factor in this month of reading. All my tension, nostalgia, sentimentality, and anger at people who try to scam you by saying they need a good tenant who loves God because they are moving from Prague to South Africa to be missionaries and cannot keep an eye on the property, became wrapped up together and found their outlet in different ways depending on what I was reading.

A good book for people who like the idea of escaping. — A Book for People Who Like the Idea of Escaping

A week or two ago, a welcome escape came in the form of the nonfiction book Fakebook, which is a first-person account of how a man in his mid-twenties decided to make up a story on Facebook about leaving his job to travel the country. I would recommend this story about Dave Cicirelli’s prank, which ended up inspiring people and causing Cicirelli to reevaluate what he himself wanted in life. As a person with a sometimes frustrating job and no prospects for a place to live in July, I was hooked. It made it easier to look for apartments during the day, because in the evening, I could go home and read this book. I’d think, “Well, maybe I’ll just leave the country and go teach English in Eastern Europe if I can’t find a place.”

A recent children's book. — A Recent Children’s Book

The happy medium for this month of reading was The Mysterious Benedict Society. I thought it was the best book I’ve read in a while, with a great writing style, amusing characters, and a story that is intelligent. This book didn’t make me moody, or start crying, or think about running away. It was a great escape just reading Stewart’s book. I didn’t have any way of relating it to my own life, or envying the characters. I just read it and enjoyed it.

For People Who Like Reading About a Lot of Weddings

On the bad end of the spectrum, I have for the past few days been reading Save the Date, by Jen Doll. It is a nonfiction account of Doll’s experiences of some of the weddings she has been to in her life. Reviews said it was a funny book, but to me it sounds almost preachy at times, and I think more than anything, I’m just not in the right mood for it now. Feeling homeless and directionless doesn’t mesh well with sympathizing with a character who sounds a little worried about ending up alone. She is also a little older than me, which rather than being comforting, has made me forget that I still have a lot of time to settle down in work and life.

Sometimes you read about a particular topic or learn something new, and then it seems to come up everywhere. Every chapter in Jen Doll’s book is about a different wedding she attended and what she was experiencing at the time. Seemingly everything I watch now is about marriage. Yesterday I watched the movie Jesse and Celeste Forever, which was great, but not entirely reassuring. Then today I watched an episode of “Sherlock” which involved a wedding. Unfortunately, sometimes even when you know why you are feeling a certain way, you can’t keep the crazy from coming out. Even while I read Patrimony, I knew what I was sad about, but it still affected the way I saw other things. With reading Save the Date, I knew I was in a strange mood, but it took me quite a while to figure out what was causing it, and then I still couldn’t help it.

Books are wonderful ways to escape, to see other perspectives, to experience different things in a way. This month has reminded me, though, just how easy it can be to get swept up in the books you are reading and forget what you are really feeling and experiencing. A book can amplify the feelings of distress or worry or happiness you already feel, or turn your mood around completely. I think for the next month, I will focus on real things and read just a little bit less. Or at least read happy books.

A Life’s Work

October 6, 2013 by Josephine Journeyman 1 Comment

To all my many fans, I apologize for my extended hiatus from the blog. In the past few months, I got a second job at the library and finished working at the Acrapolis. I also had a friend from college visit for a few weeks. Of course, there was also plenty of housesitting to be done. Even as I write, I find myself looking for the latest episode of “Castle” on Hulu. Plus, I have about 75 books waiting to be read. So yes, I’ve been incredibly busy. But just for your sake, I will write a post.

My new job at the library is as a clerk. It’s at the same library where I shelve, so I work forty hours now, and my schedule is surprisingly easy to keep track of. What I have been most struck by since I began is how bitter some people get after having worked at this job for ten or fifteen years.

One of my coworkers, who has worked for the library for at least 16 years, gave me a run down over the course of a few days of the most common complaints I will get as a clerk. His favorite refrain: “You’ll get people every day who say, ‘You must love this job!’ They think we just sit here and read books all day. But people can be so stupid, and we have to put up with it. Everyone thinks they’re our boss because they pay taxes.” Why did he devote so much of his life to this job that just makes him angry and crotchety?

I can think of about four or five people off the top of my head who are equally disillusioned about working at the library. Then there are about three or four of us who find ourselves worrying about becoming those people. What I have always heard is to keep applying for jobs. Even if you think you have the job of your dreams, keep applying. You never know what might happen, or what jobs might come up. If anything, being brought down by the complaints of embittered coworkers has made me remember this advice and appreciate it. Maybe the library has good benefits, and you get paid holidays, but I will not get stuck at a job if it makes me that kind of person.

Albert Camus said, “A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.” If we spend our lives in jobs we never get any pleasure from, we won’t feel fulfilled or live life to its fullest extent. Our hearts won’t be used to their capacities. We owe it to ourselves and the people around us to seek out those simple, powerful images that open our hearts. So I will keep applying for jobs, and in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the one I have.

Everyday Heroes Sand Drywall Too

July 21, 2013 by Josephine Journeyman 2 Comments

At the end of Mystery Men, when the team of ragtag superheroes has saved the day, they get interviewed by the newscast and say this:

“‘Excuse me, could I say something? I think we would all like this victory to go out to all the other guys, and I’m talking about the people in this city who are super good at their jobs but never get any credit. Like the lady in the DMV – that’s a rough job.’

‘To the people that remember jingles from tons of old commercials.’

‘And uh, uh, people that support local music and seek out independent film.’

‘And the guy that drives the snow-plow. And the school nurse, that’s a…’

‘Eddie, Eddie, I think they got the point.'”

While it’s memorable for being funny, this quote stayed with me for a different reason after having watched the movie for the first time a few weeks ago. It made me feel vindicated and sufficiently thanked for my work at the mansion.

This past week, I spent a lot of time in the three by two foot floor space of the entry way to one of the apartments in the mansion. I sanded drywall compound, primed the walls and ceiling, and painted. During that time, I probably listened to “Crimson and Clover” at least fifteen times and sang along to all kinds of songs from the 1960s. So it wasn’t all bad by any means. The only difficult part was not being able to find anything in the garage, so I used a worn down sanding block and didn’t have safety glasses.

During one of the days, the youngest son of the house owner began a conversation with me about college extracurricular activities. At the age of 17 or 18, he is the black sheep of the family, in part because he is attending college late. On the bright side, he was just accepted to be a part of a national debate team. He asked me what extracurricular activities I had done, and I told him I was in choir, took voice lessons, and once put together a basketball team, primarily made of people who hadn’t really played the sport before.

It was at this point in the conversation that he said something very telling: “And you went to Metro State, right? And majored in library sciences?”

I’m sure Metropolitan State is a great school, and I have heard some good things about it. But in point of fact I went to Colorado College. It isn’t a state school, and the tuition proves it. Even though a lot of people from Colorado haven’t even heard of it, and some people ask if CC stands for community college, Colorado College is in fact a renowned liberal arts school. I also studied not library sciences, but English. When I said these things, he suddenly became more interested in me, and his esteem for me visibly increased.

I like working with my hands at the mansion, being able to see the effects of my work. Even so, there are times that I’d like to be able to quote Mystery Men to the homeowners. Or even say something as silly as, “Lucille, God gave me a gift. I shovel well. I shovel very well,” like the Shoveler says to his wife. I’d like credit for supporting local music, or picking up the dog poop in the basement of the mansion, or doing a bang up job at drywall sanding. Where we went to college shouldn’t be important in deciding what we think of a person, nor should we be able to treat people any worse for whatever job they might have. I work hard, and yes, I’m pretty good with a shovel.