I’m just gonna put it out there.
Like it really fucking sucked. I’m trying to think of good things that happened during 2015 and I can only come up with a few things but hey might as well focus on the good before we go into the bad shit right? Here is my list of the good, the bad, and the WHAT? Get ready folks. This is a long one.
- I got accepted to study abroad in London which by the way IM GOING IN 10 DAYS WWWWWWWHHHAAT IS LIFE. I am planning on going to a museum EVERY DAY and its going to be the best and I’m going to cry so many tears of happiness its going to be great.
- I went to Hawaii with my choir and that was pretty bomb. I’m pretty sure most of us blinded the Hawaiians with our Portland paleness but it was worth it.
- I got 2 new tattoos that I’m really happy with (and one I didn’t even pay for because my brother is the best)
- My boyfriend and I celebrated our first anniversary and somehow my love for him keeps growing everyday and wow he’s great.
- I didn’t spend the Summer in Miami!
- I stopped being a teenager and turned into a twenty nothing so that’s always nice. I’m no longer one of those “dang nabbit teens with their gadgets and their kissing and their sex and their issues” oh wait thats still me but take out the teen.
But now we get to the bad. And there is A LOT of bad.
- So.. I was pretty damn suicidal this year. I was constantly trying to convince myself why I shouldn’t end my life because my anxiety was so crippling. I didn’t want to end my life because I thought I was alone. Actually on the contrary. I didn’t end my life because of all the wonderful people in my life cheering me on. It’s hard to think of life worth living when its so difficult to just be alive because your mind is constantly against you and you can barely sit still at a dinner party because you feel like you’re being judged and all you want to do is take off your make up and crawl back into bed. What was scarier was that the voice that was trying to convince me was SO SWEET ABOUT IT. They were like giving me a choice and I was like, “gah this would be so much easier to push away if it wasn’t said in the voice of a fucking FAIRY SUICIDE GODMOTHER.” (Update: since I started taking some more meds and lots of therapy, my suicidal thoughts have dwindled to almost nothing)
- The summer was pretty bad. Although it’s difficult to complain about living in wine country for 3 months, it is easy to complain about literally having no friends but your parents in an hour and a half radius. So I was pretty lonely, and I only worked once a week at a museum that was an hour away and saw my boyfriend and his friends every other weekend.
- This semester. I just want to pretend this semester did NOT HAPPEN. IT DIDN’T HAPPEN GO AWAY.
- I had to say goodbye to my boyfriend and I won’t be seeing him until May.
- Literally everything that happened this fall.
- I turned 20 and now I feel like I have to be an adult and lord knows I am NO WHERE NEAR ABLE TO ADULT YET.
There were some really weird stuff that happened this year too. Some that were rather humorous, but still strange.
The WHAT?! :
- So this semester (aka the-semester-that-shall-not-be-named) I worked at this TEENY gallery in North West Portland called Yale Union that was run by some pretty cool people who were not affiliated with Yale University (I know that was confusing for me too) and I only went on Saturdays and spent 3 hours sitting at the “front desk” (it was a table with some pamphlets on it. I’d hardly call it a front desk) counting the three people coming in every time (sometimes no one at all) and trying to help people. I had to help people because this exhibit was insanely confusing. All of the names of the titles of the pieces and their artists were on a wall facing away from the exhibit. So people had no idea what they were looking at or who it was by and so they took their frustration out on little ol’ me. This exhibit was all about motherhood and so there were some cool things like three HUGE peitry dishes with spit samples and hair samples that kept growing to show how life is everywhere and there were some really neat-o photographs of spider webs. But then, there was this really strange pregnant mannequin that was always RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME when I snapchatted that had like twisted limbs and feet and hands and was supposed to show the pain of mother hood. Some people enjoyed it. Others did not. A conversation I had with a visitor:
Lady: Is there are pamphlet or something that I can have?
Me: Nope. There’s just this collection of material the curator and the artist’s put together that inspired them to make the exhibit.
Lady: So I seriously have to go back and forth between this stupid wall and the exhibit?
Me: Yes ma’am.
Lady: with a sneer This exhibit is very…obtuse.
Me: That’s art ma’am.
Lady: Not all art.
Me: Yes ma’am all art. Goodbye now.
She left with quite a huff. (If you seriously want to have a discussion why all art is obtuse, I will GLADLY have that with you)
- Yet another gallery story because all I do is work in galleries and tiny museums. Once again, I was in a super small museum in Sonoma as a front desk host (this was way more legitimate) and people LOVED talking to me. The amount of people I had just tell me about their son’s for NO REASON or their grand children was astounding. We especially got a lot of older visitors who loved talking to me while waiting for their S.O to get out of the bathroom. An example of a conversation I had:
Man: Where are you from?
Me: Um… Miami. But I go to school in Portland.
Man: PORTLAND? Wait what on earth are you doing all the way over here in California Miss Miami?
Me: My parents just moved here and I’m spending the summer with them.
Man: Ah thats sweet. My son said Portland was full of hippies or something like that. Are you one of them?
Me: Well uh…I don’t know sir…Do you mean-(I was going to say hipster which is what I think he meant)
Man: Nah you’re too young to be a hippy. Plus you’re from Miami. They don’t have none of those hippies in Miami. Have a good day now.
- Other times at this same museum I had people try to swindle me out of paying the 5 DAMN DOLLARS to get into the museum. We were free on Wednesdays. One conversation with a rather wealthy looking woman caked with make up, probably about 60:
*She rushes in and doesn’t look at me*
Me: Um excuse me Ma’am, you have to pay 5$ in order to see the exhibit.
Lady: I have to pay?
Me: Yes ma’am we’re independently funded and its not very much-
Lady: This museum is so small though.
Me: Yes ma’am…
Lady: And you only have this Deeben whatever?
Me: Diebenkorn ma’am and yes. We only have space for one exhibit at a time but the exhibit is very wonderful and-
Lady: *looks around with her nose in the air* This museum isn’t WORTH 5$.*leaves*
Me: BET I COULD HAVE PAID THAT MUCH FOR YOUR FACE LIFT. (Or rather I would have said that if I wanted to get fired).
*man comes in and also doesn’t look at me*
Me: Excuse me sir, you have to pay 5$ to enter the museum.
Man: No I don’t. I didn’t last time.
Me: Well, you do now. You must have come on Wednesday. It’s free on Wednesdays.
Man: I’m pretty positive I don’t have to pay.
Me: Are you a member?
Man: Well no, but I didn’t pay last time.
Me: That’s not how this works sir. If you want to see the exhibit you have to pay 5$. I’m not sure why you didn’t have to pay last time but you do now.
Man: When did it switch to being paid?
Me: I’m pretty sure it’s always been 5$.
Man: I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.
Me: I’m not sir. Are you going to pay sir or shall I call my manager and have her explain why it’s 5$?
*he promptly leaves*
Me: I WORK HERE ASSHOLE IM NOT WRONG ABOUT THE PRICE OF THE MUSEUM I WORK AT.
I don’t understand people.
- I dog-sat a dog who would chase his own shadow. It was probably one of the most frustrating things that has happened to me when it comes to dogs.
- While I was dog sitting the greatest Bernese Mountain Dog, I also cat sat a cat who would walk with the dog and I. The two of them hated my boyfriend.
Well, I think that’s my year in a nutshell spewing poison. Y’know, it sucked. Really bad. And I wish I could forget that this whole year even happened but at the same time, I learned a lot this year. I learned a lot about my limits as a person academically and that I really shouldn’t have so many hours of class in a day that I have 10 minutes to eat and maybe 18 hours of rehearsal a week isn’t so nice and that maybe I should not take a class when the professor is clearly an ASSHOLE. But you know what? I did. And I’ve learned from that. I learned that when anxiety gets bad and you think no one gets it, there may be one author who makes your shitty world make a lot more sense (Thanks Jenny Lawson). I learned that working in museums can be great but not everyone gets art and sometimes they take it out on the person working there and thats just what the workforce is like. I learned that even when you haven’t talked to your friends in weeks because you’re drowning in work and mental illness that they will still be there with open arms, smiles and a bottle of beer (thanks New World House and those who visited constantly).
Alright 2016, let’s not fuck me up as bad as 2015 did.
Have a new year filled with kittens, Okay?