Life teaches. And living on your own, I mean for real (not in college; that's kind of halfway there)*, is kind of a big unknown before you start doing it -- so there is a high concentration of lesson-learning in the beginning. I realized this applies to general lessons, and to lessons about myself. I was musing in the shower, so here are a few.
A shower curtain is pretty critical. Plastic bags cut and tied together will NOT make a very good substitute.
A good friend with whom to laugh and take two-minute breaks at work does wonders on days that drag. And on days that don't.
Paying for Starbucks drinks with your college dining plan dollars truly rocked. Now, anything but a straight coffee is expensive.
Being able to leave work at work, and to not feel obligated every single night to be working on some kind of homework or project, is an undeniably AWESOME freedom.
Follow-up: who says college is the best years of your life?
Showering at night is far less stressful than in the morning, when bus arrival deadlines loom.
Philly is an amazing city for loving good beer.
I like managing my own place to live... but sometimes, it does feel lonely.
Addendum 1: No way do I want to live alone for my entire life.
Making friends with people who have cars comes in handy. (I mean real friends, of course, who happen to be kind enough to give you rides.)
Utilities included in rent? Seriously convenient.
Family is still there for you, loving, teaching, and supporting. (* This is why I'm not 100% there. It's still a process.)
The college sleep schedule, um, doesn't exactly work anymore. It's a little more feasible, though still unhealthy, when you have classes at all different times of the day across the week, and you can show up and in many cases not have to be particularly productive (just hope that you don't fall asleep, if it comes to that). For a 9-to-5 type of schedule? Yeah, really not so smart.
It's sadly too easy to lose touch with college friends when everyone scatters geographically and begins busy lives somewhere else.
The (swing/blues) dance community is full of basically the best people ever. (Westie is seeming pretty good so far too.) I could go on about this. :)
Two ways to improve your commute:
1. Move 20 blocks closer to the office.
2. Take a bus route that operates right on schedule. So much frustration relieved!
Becoming a local is fun. The pizza shop guy knows my order every time I walk in. Albeit small, it's a nice way to feel belonging.
24-hour CVS is the best kind.
Student loan repayments are - shall we say, a little painful?
One reason it's great to live in a city: you can get by, and even access many places fairly reasonably, without a car. However, then you start discovering places and events a little out of reach without one. See previous related point.
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Monday, April 9, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
afterthoughts from The Help
I just finished reading The Help tonight. As I'm not in a book club (maybe I should be?) and don't know if I'll have anyone with whom to chat about it soon, I figure I'll take down my reactions at least for my own memory later.
Perhaps the strongest emotion I felt woven through this story is love. I was amazed by the relationship between Aibileen and Mae Mobley. I'm not sure what builds that bond between a maid and a child that is not her own -- is it the ongoing act of caring for and raising the child that engenders a mother-like love? Is it the natural innocence, joy, energy that the child has in abundance? I think I cannot fully understand from my point of view, given that I haven't the experience of being a mother. Yet at the same time, it was somewhat shocking the way the white mothers in the story generally seemed to be a mix of uninterested in and annoyed by the role of being a mother, or of what was left of it, anyway. I couldn't help but wonder why they would have children in the first place, if they didn't want to be raising them... but perhaps that's just how women's lives were expected to unfold at that time and/or place.
The love in the friendships among the black community was beautiful, too. I suppose some of that comes to existence naturally due to the situation -- all being together in the same boat, so to speak. But they really supported each other, through their church and in individual friendships.
I enjoyed Skeeter's character a lot. Her peers in the town seemed like empty human beings with surface level lives, spending their days gossiping, playing bridge, being in the League, and getting their hair done. But Skeeter was a person with her own unique depth: she took notice of her community and surroundings and saw them for what they were; she had her own interests and dreams (and while she respected and cared for her parents, she didn't let them press her into a life path of their choosing); she had immense self-respect (in her interactions and relationship with Stuart, in going forth with her mission of the book despite basically everyone she had been friends with turning away from her). In other words, she lived true to herself. And once she put her finger on what she felt was right and necessary to do, she took on the project with diligence, yet with honest respect and care for those involved.
Reading the story definitely enveloped me in a different time and place. It took me away from the busy, technology-infused world that even my own daily life is, and put me in a town that was mostly its own microcosm in time. It's funny how that time period seems to be lost to the history textbooks. We all learn about slavery, civil rights movements, and such. But the world of the story seemed to be partially functional. The maids were paid, but still struggled to make ends meet. They were perhaps treated civilly, yet were viewed at least by some as still a different class of human being, and hence, segregation was the way things ran. This was set in the south; perhaps the north was already changing more rapidly by then, but I don't really know the history.
I'm going to sound like a reviewer, but truly it was an eye-opening book. But aside of that, it was touching and emotional as well, because once you get down past all the lines that the people of that time were living by, you can see and feel the beauty of the human relationships: between Aibileen and Minny, Skeeter and Aibileen, Aibileen and Mae Mobley, Skeeter and her mother, Stuart and Skeeter... And, of course, the entire point is exactly that which Skeeter realized her book was demonstrating.
Perhaps the strongest emotion I felt woven through this story is love. I was amazed by the relationship between Aibileen and Mae Mobley. I'm not sure what builds that bond between a maid and a child that is not her own -- is it the ongoing act of caring for and raising the child that engenders a mother-like love? Is it the natural innocence, joy, energy that the child has in abundance? I think I cannot fully understand from my point of view, given that I haven't the experience of being a mother. Yet at the same time, it was somewhat shocking the way the white mothers in the story generally seemed to be a mix of uninterested in and annoyed by the role of being a mother, or of what was left of it, anyway. I couldn't help but wonder why they would have children in the first place, if they didn't want to be raising them... but perhaps that's just how women's lives were expected to unfold at that time and/or place.
The love in the friendships among the black community was beautiful, too. I suppose some of that comes to existence naturally due to the situation -- all being together in the same boat, so to speak. But they really supported each other, through their church and in individual friendships.
I enjoyed Skeeter's character a lot. Her peers in the town seemed like empty human beings with surface level lives, spending their days gossiping, playing bridge, being in the League, and getting their hair done. But Skeeter was a person with her own unique depth: she took notice of her community and surroundings and saw them for what they were; she had her own interests and dreams (and while she respected and cared for her parents, she didn't let them press her into a life path of their choosing); she had immense self-respect (in her interactions and relationship with Stuart, in going forth with her mission of the book despite basically everyone she had been friends with turning away from her). In other words, she lived true to herself. And once she put her finger on what she felt was right and necessary to do, she took on the project with diligence, yet with honest respect and care for those involved.
Reading the story definitely enveloped me in a different time and place. It took me away from the busy, technology-infused world that even my own daily life is, and put me in a town that was mostly its own microcosm in time. It's funny how that time period seems to be lost to the history textbooks. We all learn about slavery, civil rights movements, and such. But the world of the story seemed to be partially functional. The maids were paid, but still struggled to make ends meet. They were perhaps treated civilly, yet were viewed at least by some as still a different class of human being, and hence, segregation was the way things ran. This was set in the south; perhaps the north was already changing more rapidly by then, but I don't really know the history.
I'm going to sound like a reviewer, but truly it was an eye-opening book. But aside of that, it was touching and emotional as well, because once you get down past all the lines that the people of that time were living by, you can see and feel the beauty of the human relationships: between Aibileen and Minny, Skeeter and Aibileen, Aibileen and Mae Mobley, Skeeter and her mother, Stuart and Skeeter... And, of course, the entire point is exactly that which Skeeter realized her book was demonstrating.
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