Sunday, April 22, 2012

Vision Quest

I recently found myself in a debate that ended with my opponent telling me that I'm selfish and close-minded. Ouch. Am I really that bad? I decided that need to go on a vision quest to find out the truth. Unfortunately I hit a few barriers, which include (but are not limited to) having a full-time job and a complete lack of Cherokee ancestry.The only option was to take an online quiz. Turns out my spirit animal is an owl.

 

It makes sense. I've always suspected that I'm something of a soothsayer. Anyway...

I would realistically rate myself a solid 8.3 on a 1-10 scale measuring patience, understanding and general tolerance--but there are a few things that I simply can't stand for: 1. Torturing animals;  2. Sitting through an entire live baseball game without a big pretzel;  3. Waiting in line at the post office and, most importantly:

4. People who are so "open-minded" that they fail to see their own hypocrisy.

In many of my classes from K-12, we were expected to complete a "Do-Now." The Do-Now was a problem on the chalk board that either reviewed the lesson from the day before or set the stage for the upcoming lesson. Do-Nows were a huge nuissance and really inhibited everyone's ability to talk very loudly with friends about other friends for the first 10 minutes of class. Total inconvenience at the time. Looking back now, however, I can see the value in the exercise. In fact, I'm going to post a logic-themed Do-Now right here on this blog:

"y=mx+b"

"Access to healthcare is a human right."

Are these sentences both facts, both opinions, or one fact and one opinion? Please explain. 

I understand that access to healthcare is an extremely complex debate, but it really is the icing flower corner piece on the birthday cake of life when somebody tells me (and quite nearly physically attacks me) over my ideas. Yes, that has happened. Can you imagine? Someone berating me/lecturing me like a common criminal? Yikes.

I thought this was pretty timely given that the Supreme Court just heard the oral arguments about the constitutionality of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (Obamacare). PS I saw everyone's favorite "Wise Latina" Sonia Sotomayor on the Acela train bound for NYC. I wasn't stalking her, but she got off at Philly incase anyone wanted to know. I digress..

Like I said, healthcare seemed timely, but the point of this post and my feeling in general is that discussing topics such as this could be both fruitful and enlightening if people would acknowledge that there are always at least two ways of looking at things. There are always circumstances. All I'm asking of anyone is to just listen to other people when they speak and consider their side. No one has to agree, but let's reserve emotionally charged/clouded discussion for when it is officially confirmed that Kate Middleton is indeed hosting a royal child via pregnancy. Additionally, it is helpful to know the facts. (Ex. Fannie Mae ≠ Sallie Mae). Even if you're close-minded about something, that's okay too, but just say so! I happen to enjoy it when people are staunch in stance--so long as they know weltanschauungs vary. 

I've felt this way for a while. Please review my Facebook status update from January 4, 2012 of this year (Ah, the joys of timeline..)

"I would just like to point out that everyone alleging the GOP as a whole to be stupid and/or ignorant is not nearly as open-minded as they claim to be. Growing up in the Northeast and subsequently attending an insulated, liberal university does not necessarily make you smart/unequivocally correct, sorry :( "

Conclusion: Everyone needs to chill out and focus more attention on this baby elephant playing at the beach.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Animal Crackers

Everybody has that one food that they can't even fathom consuming. This is usually a result of either getting sick or over-consumption. I have approximately four of these foods: anything from KFC, lo mein, rice-a-roni (San Francisco treat? I. Beg. To. Differ.), and animal crackers--but animal crackers seem so innocent, don't they? Think again.

Flash to May 2010--my final week as a junior at Syracuse. I was all set to move to DC at the end of the month to start an internship in DC and subsequently stay there for the semester for another internship. The world seemed to be right at my feet, until that fateful Sunday afternoon when I paid what I thought would be a leisurely visit to BankofAmerica.com..

I was officially flat broke.

I couldn't believe it, I was shocked. Actually, that's not true. I could totally believe it. I pretty much blew my entire savings in Chile buying scarves and pisco sours a year before--and it was only a matter of time before my checking account suffered a similar fate. I started to panic--how was I going to survive? I was all alone in the apartment by that point, and I was way too proud to ask my friends for food scraps. I had enough money to fill my gas tank to get home from school and mooch off of my mom until I got to DC and got my first paycheck, but that was about it. I starting brainstorming--and by the way, is there ANYTHING less effective than "brainstorming?"

Anyway, I remembered my upcoming birthday, but I suddenly realized that I had already cashed in on my birthday when I blew out not one but TWO tires earlier in the semester. I couldn't ask my parents, they had bailed me out way too many times. It was time to be a responsible adult.

...but I was so, so hungry.

After some serious budgeting I surmised that I had about $10 to buy food for a week. 

I drove to Sam's Club to browse my options. The very first thing I did was 'troll the whole store to see if anyone was giving out free samples. No dice. I finally settled on an industrial sized barrel of animal crackers, and proceeded to the check out with my prize. The cashier broke some seriously bad news to me--I couldn't buy the crackers. Apparently, you have to be a member of Sam's Exclusive Club of Soccer Moms to purchase bulk items. 

It was the most pathetic moment of my life--until the NEXT moment when a grandmother behind me in line bought it for me. That moment then became the most pathetic of my life. Thankfully, it's still holding strong. I've only gone up from there.

It only cost me $7.50, so I was able to buy milk so that I could have animal cracker cereal for breakfast. It had 73 servings and I devoured the entire thing. One week. No energy. No dignity.

I still can't even look at them.

Friday, April 20, 2012

ESFP

ESFP

God, I feel exposed.

Two colleagues and myself were subjected to a 3 hour meeting discussing the results of our Myers-Briggs Type Indicator tests. After a series of 100 questions that essentially asked me "Do you like schedules?" and "Do you talk to people at parties?" in 100 different ways...the MBTI determined that I exhibit the following four qualities in life--and specifically the workplace:

E- Extrovert
S - Sensing
F - Feeling
P - Perceiving

Good news first: It was no surprise to find out that my celebrity personality-dopplegangers include Britney Spears (obvi pre-shaved head, child-bearing, washed up 'Circus' Britney), Cameron Diaz, Rachel Blison, Pamela Anderson and most importantly KIM KARDASHIAN. But really. One of the main things that my identity packet kept telling me was that I "live in the moment" and "look for immediate satisfaction." It is from this that I must conclude that the MBTI test is full of lies--that assumption of me could not be more untrue. I suffer from something I have coined "stress-phoria." I become stressed over things that are supposed to make me happy. My condition definitely stops me from living in the moment as often as I like. I'm not sure if stress-phoria is included in the latest edition of the DSM-IV, but it is as real as you and I.

We were shown the picture below and asked to talk about it:


I wanted to see paradise--I really did, but all I could think about were the scary ocean animals just waiting to drag me to my watery grave--sharks, manowars, and the like. I can't do anything without somehow getting at least a little stressed about it..

"Wow, this Adele song is great. Oh my God--am I relating to it too much?? Am I going through a break-up without even knowing it??"

 
"I just bought new sneakers!....but what if I can't  find time to fit in a long run TODAY...?"

See what I mean? It's hard to allow myself to just let go. Upon being asked what I would do with $5000 CASH and a free 7 night trip to anywhere, I immediately got my happy chest pains about how in the world I would find the time to plan my fake vacation and whether or not my travel companion would be into my ideas. It was pretty sad.

There were some truths to be found in my MTBI test results. As a 'P' I apparently, "tend to be flexible and adaptable and to keep your options open as long as possible." Okay, I can dig that--especially because the other option 'J' is for "Judging." I'm not into judgers, although I do invest heavily into researching the possibility of using energy from judgemental haters as a viable alternative fuel source for the future. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

As a "practical" person within the "Sensing" subset of characteristics (have I lost you yet?)
I am, "impatient listening to ideas if a practical use is not the end result." True. Ideas and theories mean very little to me. Actions and experiences, on the other hand, tug at my heart strings a little more. I need facts to stay comfortably grounded, and I like to stay in touch with the commonsense aspects of any situation. I find this to be especially applicable in conversations concerning foreign aid, green technology, and other whimsicalities.


Conclusion: I am an immensely complicated person and I find it insulting that I was subjected to a three hour discussion about my personality. That being said, the comparison with Rachel Bilson and the free bagel were nice touches.

Looking forward to Parts II and III...

Thursday, April 5, 2012

For Crusty

Chances are I don't like you as much as I like my animals. Anyone who knows me knows that there is no one and nothing in the world that can come between my pets and I. 

I've heard that you meet your once in a lifetime friend just once in a lifetime (makes sense), and in my 22 years on this planet, I have already loved and lost my forever friend. My cat Crusty.


Please forgive Sheila and her braces for photo bombing this picture. She didn't mean to be so visually offensive.

Crusty was legit my heart and soul. I would have done anything for that cat--and I still would if properly inspired to do so. Crusty knew everything about my frenemies, boy drama, fights with my parents...and he was on my side without condition. He let me braid his fur, he didn't mind when we tried to flush him down the toilet, and he was even okay when pulled his whiskers out. We found him at a farmer's market with his eyes crusted shut (hence the name "Crusty"), so we don't know much about his lineage. It seems pretty clear that he was part creature of Eden and part Kitler

Crusty passed away late April 2007, and I haven't gotten over it yet. Other cats have come and gone, but none have been the same. To honor all of my kitties past and present, here is a timeline of the notable felines of my life (in no particular order):

La Dixie, my host cat in Chile


I have this picture of Dixie hanging in my office. She is very, very special to me, and without joking this cat helped me through one of the hardest times of my life. She was there when I needed her most, and she was also there when I didn't need her...such as all the times when she'd haul ass into my room and run up my curtain and hide on the curtain rod. That's what friendship is all about, imo. She'd sleep with me every night and I'd give her sweet, sweet besos in the mornings--cat breath and all.

Little Kitty

To be clear, Little Kitty will never reach the level of Crusty in my heart, but there really is just something so beautiful about motherhood. Here is Little Kitty with her own little kitties--including Calendar Kitty, Peabody, Fonzi, Judas Priest, et. al. As if my house wasn't hairy enough...


Rumor is that at the last papal conclave, Catholic cardinals were discussing Little Kitty's bid for sainthood. Please write to your local Catholic diocese to lobby her cause/show support. 


Helen

I actually hate Helen. This picture is of her drinking out of the bath tub because she is disgusting. I found her on my way to Wildwood after prom, and she was disgusting and diseased. Naturally I picked her up, dropped her off at my house to be my Mom's problem, and proceeded to the beach instead of caring for my new charge.

Helen has always had it in for my sisters and myself. One time we had a party at my house while my mom was in Germany and we had an unexpected visitor come to "check up" on us...and we desperately tried to rush and hide the beer meanwhile all of Valerie's friends were Anne Franking. [To Anne Frank (verb): To run upstairs and hide from an incoming malefactor.]
We had everything covered until Helen and her busted eye ran directly into our posterboard fortress built over the beer. Our hidden cache beneath was fully exposed and it was obvious she felt less than remorseful. I won't forgive her for that.

and last, but not least:

Tinsel

This little miracle came into our home this past Gilchristmas Eve. She's grown up a bit now, and she looks ancient. As in...I think she descends from the cat of a Pharaoh. Tinsel is the stuff of legends. She's young and must prove herself to me, but I have high hopes for her.

Before I finish, please behold Little Kitty and Fester having a moment. When I think of love I generally think of this picture:


Eddie says bye :)


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Ode to Polly

This morning my mom, famous for her curt, sometimes abrasive text messaging style, simply asked me one question (but endearingly failed to locate the "?" function on her ancient, brick-like cellphone):

"Do you remember Polly Pocket"

OF COURSE MOM. 

But then I got to thinking...

Does anyone remember the story of Puff the Magic Dragon? If you don't, just listen to the live version I've linked in. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here is a spark notes version:

Young boy and mythical creature (Puff) become BFFs. Mythical creature is presumed to be figment of young boy's (alias: Jackie Paper) imagination. Adventures abound. Jackie Paper then grows up and leaves his friend behind, and for the purposes of the song the creature returns to his mythical cave dejected, sad, and nostalgic. Without joking, the story/song really touches my heart, and if the song describes a real life phenomenon, then I owe a serious apology to my former bff and confidant, Polly Pocket.

I played with Polly Pocket and her gaggle of pocket-sized biddies on a daily basis--often for hours a day. This was the exact house where the magic happened (so to speak):



God, it was magnificent. It wasn't until 3 years after I received this gift that I realized that the indoor garden (stage right) actually flipped upwards and became a computer room. Life was full of surprises when Polly was involved. 

I loved playing with Polly Pocket almost as much as I loved the "Dear America" history book series for girls and Nancy Drew. Never got into Barbie (her fair freaked me out...), never owned a cabbage patch, and my parents wouldn't even let us have Alpha-Bits cereal (you know, with the marshmallow vowels) let alone dream of indulging our wishes for American Girl dolls. Polly was perfect for me.

My cat Crusty bit the heads off of all of my Pollies, but it didn't matter, I was still able to use my imagination to make something of her that she wasn't. I channeled all of my hopes and dreams into Polly's daily adventures. For instance, I was so ABSOLUTELY sure that on my 13th birthday I would jump out of bed, look in the mirror, and I would just be a Spice Girl. I'd be tall, pretty, and an internationally known diva. I truly believed in my heart that this would be true--and I created that scenario day in and day out via Polly. I waited patiently and dismissed most personal setbacks as temporary--after all, I was going to be a TEENAGER one day. Even if life wasn't always perfect, it would be perfect soon.

My imaginary story always followed this sequence. My metamorphosis into a Spice Girl (OBVIOUSLY I'd be Baby Spice...blonde hair and all) would commence immediately on my 13th birthday. I'd then go on to find my amazingly sweet high school boyfriend, and we'd be the shit and totally in love. I'd go to any college I wanted, I'd be a scientist, and life would be a non-stop party. 

I was so ready for these life events that I even made a straight-to-video Polly Pocket movie--which at the time I viewed as more of an auto-biography written and produced by former Allison Gilchrist and starring the "new" Allison Gilchrist than a movie for pure entertainment. For the record there is NO shame in having a straight-to-vid blemish on my cinematic resume because Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen did it and they are (relatively) fine.

Being the entrepreneurial prodigy that I was, I had the foresight to include commercials in my movie. I knew I had to generate revenue for the remaining two movies in the Polly trilogy. Evidently I drew my inspiration from the ambulance-chasing law firm commercials that aired between Maury and Jerry Springer segments. I lined up 3 of my stuffed animal bears on the couch and spoke of the services they could provide for clients. A simple call to "1-800-The-Bears" would handle any medical malpractice cases my friends at the time were juggling. I was one letter/number over the correct amount of digits necessary for functioning toll-free numbers, but I was pretty close.

But none of my expectations ever came to fruition. I remember the last day that I woke up and tried to play with Polly. It was just going to be another standard day with my hot pocket-sized boyfriend in our big pocket-sized house (with secret compartments...obviously) in Polly's World, but I just couldn't do it. I remember feeling a block in my brain that just wouldn't allow me to remove myself from reality and into my former dream world. I just couldn't get into her story. That wasn't really my story, and I realized that I didn't even want it to be my story anymore. I was me and that's all there was to it. With a heavy heart I folded up her houses and Polly Sea-World and put her in my closet for good.

The imagination of a child is a fascinating concept--and it's a beautiful thing. But really, I'm just glad that none of my Polly predictions came true. A Spice Girl?? How would that be working out for me now...?

Lucky for my conscious I can't look back on the end of my relationship with Polly Pocket and think of whatever the equivalent of Puff's "green scales falling like rain" would be for her. Afterall, Crusty bit off her head..tear-ducts and all.