Optical Allusionist

I knew it was a LONG time since I'd posted, but I didn't realize it'd been this long! After i got a nasty response to one of my posts, I had a hard time knowing how to respond-- in terms of "do i keep posting?" But all is well, I think, now, and at the moment, I've been working (as a custodian, but it's a greeaat job, so i don't care that it's custodial work again), and had a rather stressful holiday season, but it's okay now. And the past couple days I've been messing around with youtube and vids that I have. :) So, to start off a slew of enjoyment, here's a video of my family at Trümmelbach Fällen near Lauterbrunnen.

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This is a poem I found on a folded scrap of paper while I cleaned out the drama room. I thought it was good enough to stick in my pocket, and, in memory of the lonely student, I've decided to publish it, per se. It needs help, but give the kid a break- they're in jh.


When I was at my old school
I was happy every day.
I was bright and young and joyful;
It should have stayed that way.

But now I'm at a new school-
I'm dismal, slow, and sad
I don't quite know why I'm like this,
But I do know that it's bad.

It could be that it's winter,
Or I'm not meeting ends,
But mostly, I think that it is
My total lack of friends.

I can't hold out much longer;
It's harming to my soul-
This overwhelming loneliness
Is taking its told.

I have no one to talk to,
No one to hold my hand. (the words "relief" and "belief" are written out to the side, and, quite honestly, i like the two words together with the kind of rhyme scheme this young author has in mind. Good going, ol' chap.)
I have no one to comfort me,
When I can hardly stand.

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January 12, 2008


I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Without school or work in the morning (until next Tuesday when I start working a second job for the mornings) I've had a lot of time for it-- thinking, that is. Thinking about me. About where I want to be at various points of my life. Of who I am, who I hope to be, who I don't want to be. Thinking about where I stand with other people in my life.

Every now and then I'll talk to someone who will say, "Man. I don't think I could do that." Since I don't have anything to say to that, I mutely nod a few times and then just look at them, waiting to see what they'll say next. But it's half of how I've been feeling lately. A lot of "what ifs" have been running through my head, and I've been having to remind myself that I'm supposed to be in the moment, in the present. I'm so used to spending the brunt of my time speculating or worrying about the future or obsessing about the past, that it's an odd sensation to suddenly remind myself, "Oh yeah. That hasn't happened. I'm driving to Wal*Mart, not being kidnapped."

Who am I, though? I'm the person I think people will want me to be, most of the time. I'm the good girl at church, the lewd girl with Elise, the liberal-open girl with Matt, the smart girl with teachers. Am I good, lewd, liberal or smart? Am I all of those things, and I just intensify them for those people? What wouldn't I be able to handle? Could I not handle knowing what did -or didn't- happen? Could I handle not being able to have kids? Could I handle being in a gun fight? A war? A rebellion? Could I handle being in a relationship where my spouse cheats on me? Could I handle having a child die, or be raped or abused or bullied? Could I handle the loss of a close friendship? What could- or couldn't- I handle?

In the worst of situations, what would I do? With "situational force", would I kill someone? Abuse someone? Rape someone? Steal from someone? Would I lie to them? Ignore them? What would I do? What is the worst I would do? Does that make it me? In the best of situations, what would I do? Save someone's life? Smile at them? Invite them over? Talk to them? Love them? Forgive them?

I wouldn't ever put myself as the super-hero of my own novel, but I don't think I'd place myself in the role of the super-villain either. Those secret hopes and forbidden thoughts that are rarely revealed, is that the submerging of a deep subconscious, or a momentary lapse of consciousness? Is that the part of us we are suppressing, or is it just simply not a part of us?

The real question is: Who am I?

A daughter of God
A janitor
A survivor
And a million other things.

What do those mean? Who am I?

Does what we do define who we are? If someone says something jerky, does that make them a jerk? If somebody helps somebody out, does that make them nice? What if those people are the same person? Are they nice, or are they a jerk? What about "bigger" things, like "rapists" or "sex offenders"? Maybe those titles are valid, but maybe not. 11 years after the crime, with a great amount of reformation, is that man still a rapist? No?
"But he RAPED someone!!"
"But it's been 11 years."
"But it was RAPE!"
"But he's changed."
"But it's just a part of who he is! He showed that 11 years ago."

I don't know the answer to that. What do you think? What about job titles? I'm not just a janitor, but I am a janitor. It's a part of my life, but not a part of who I inherently am. What would happen if I decided on a career that I wanted, dependent of anyone else's opinion of that career? What if I wanted to be a urologist or a sex therapist? What if I decided to study architecture or aviation? How about if I decided to be a detective or a sexual assault advocate? A brain surgeon? Let's say I had the ability to be ANYTHING! Free of guilt from knowing what other people would think of me. Who would I be?

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The past few weeks have been hectic at work. For months we've been scrounging for ANYONE to come in to work as a janitor at American Fork Junior High (so if you know someone who needs a job, we need them.) Anyone who comes in usually quits within the next couple days. We had a "full crew" as of a week ago, fortunately, because with one slacker and one boy with mono, and two girls it was hard to clean the entire school, satellite included. Zach- kid with mono- was gone for two weeks. Andrew- slacker- isn't even allowed on my side of the school when at all possible because of a sexual harassment charge I sent against him. Aleena and I get along fine, but she's got anxiety HUGE which means some days she can't come in because it gets that bad. She's gotten better though. One day Zach and I were the only workers, and Zach's in charge of cleaning the satellite, which meant it was only me in the "main building" which includes everything from the library to the band room. :P Matthew, my boss, cleans the gyms, and Eddy, who I keep forgetting- as does he- that he's my equal, cleans all the hallways. So, you get the picture. We had a short crew. Well, a couple weeks ago, a guy, Corey, decided to give it a try. We gave him two days tops. Well, he's here... but I swear he's only come in six days-- tops. He comes in when he wants to, and when he does come in, we often find his rooms, garbages, or restrooms to be a mess. :P Then, last week a girl named Katie came in to try it out. Seems she had already worked there, had had a mental breakdown, and headed out to Arkansas without telling anyone until much, much later. So, much later, she came back to try work again. Guess what? one day working, and we haven't seen her since... We're guessing she's in Arkansas.

So, a week of cleaning the worst rooms upstairs, and cleaning rooms downstairs, and teachers are ticked. Mrs. Memmott, one of the women i clean for, asked me on Thursday if someone was going to vacuum her room. I said, "I'm not sure. I haven't asked Matthew yet." "Well, it needs to be done." "I know. We're shorthanded right now." "Well, it hasn't been done for at least three days. It's bad." (Liar. I vacuumed it very well two days ago.) "Okay, well, I hope I can clean it today." "'Kay, please do." Jeez. So, that night I cleaned all the teachers' rooms who asked for theirs to be done and one English room that's always trashed, and then headed downstairs to clean the wood and metal shops. Friday I came into work and Matthew said "'Kay, we've got to clean all the rooms upstairs. Robert (his boss) yelled at me today because teachers are complaining right and left." Okey dokey, Matthew. I was ticked out of my skull. I swear I've said "I'm sorry we can't do your room tonight. We're overstaffed." at least 200 hundred times in the past two weeks. Rebecca Underwood, a good friend of mine, and a teacher I vacuum for, spoke with me on Friday. I explained to her that I was angry because I'm getting flak for not having cleaned rooms I never had time to clean, and I was angry at the teachers for complaining continually. Her response was this: "You shouldn't be getting flak for it, and it's too bad you are, but, from the faculty's point of view, when we hear over and over that you're understaffed, we think 'then get staffed!'. I mean, it may be hard, but it's do-able." Okay, so it was good to hear a different perspective, but I was only angrier because I have a STRONG loyalty to Matthew, only the best boss I will ever have, and felt that he had been duly attacked as he is the one who is trying to hire people. As you can see from the situation described in the first paragraph, we have been SCROUNGING, GRASPING, and DYING just to get SOMEONE, ANYONE, SOMEBODY, ANYBODY into our school as the newbie janitor. When I saw Rebecca later, I told her PART of the reason no one wants to be a janitor: the bathrooms.

THIS NEXT PARAGRAPH IS NOT FOR THE QUEASY OF STOMACH!!! IT'S BEARABLE, BUT NOT FOR THOSE WHO ARE QUICK TO REGURGITATE!!!









NO, I'M SERIOUS. IF YOU'RE WEAK-BOWELED, DO NOT CONTINUE!!









KAY, IT'S YOUR DECISION. WHAT'S TO BE SAID IS QUITE, QUITE BEARABLE, IF, AND ONLY IF, YOU AREN'T EASILY-SICKENED.

Aleena- who is a good friend of mine, and works upstairs with me- and I were talking about the bathrooms the other day. We decided something: THEY'RE BORING!! I've worked there over a year, and her for about 8 months, and you get so used to them, that the general urine, defecation, brown tampon bags, toilets, and urinals become routine. They're the slowest part of the day. So, when we find abnormalities, we usually joke about it, but rarely exclaim, "Oh my gosh, that's DISGUSTING!!" with a need to leave the room so we don't throw up. For instance, we 'recycle' the Maxi-pad bags. Aleena and I joke about "MAN, these girls had a BAD day today!!", but don't hesitate (quick notice: we have gloves on during ALL of this for a good, healthy reason) to pick up a blood-soaked Maxi pad, or wipe off a bloody toilet, boys' or girls' bathroom. Pictures and profanities on bathroom stalls bother me, but don't shock me as much as they used to. (speaking of which, to any junior-high age girl reading this, PLEASE, if you are in a relationship with a boy, BE CAREFUL HE WON'T SPREAD YOUR ACTIVITIES AROUND, EXAGGERATED OR NOT. You deserve more than that!!) A week ago I did have a situation that shocked and disgusted me. One boy had defecated on the floor next to the toilet, and there was a heaping pile of feces laying where I was to mop. I can't mop it up like that. I didn't know what to do, so I did what I knew I had to. I picked up the pile, and tried to put it in the toilet. Unfortunately, I missed, and had to pick it up again, and put it in. On Friday-in the midst of my frustration- I found a swastika on a boy's bathroom stall written in their own poop along with a gang sig. and several obscenities. Who does things like this?!! Occasionally I'll find a note on a bathroom stall that makes me think, "This girl will slit her wrists tonight." I get to be the one to wipe whatever her statement may be off the wall, as though her pain, as though she herself, didn't exist. A little less extreme, but still saddening, I once found a sentence that said "There is no such thing as love" Below it had ensued a heated discussion. Sans the profanity- which there was plenty of- it went something like this:

"Yes it does! Just because you've never been loved!"
"Yeah, don't be stupid!"
"You brat!"
"How dare you say something like that!!"

The conversation continued. I remember one of the things that disgusted me the most was the boy's urinals. Few days have I NOT found gum, or wrappers, or other trash in the urinal for me to pick up for them. Once in a blue moon, I'll find a chip bag filled with urine and soggy chips. Yum, Doritos... In the girl's bathroom, the bathroom stall discussion will go something like this: "I hate Tyler." "I love Jacob Collins." "Don't touch him, brat! He's MINE! I'm going with him!" "This girl is such a brat." "Oh, I know. She's such a skank." "I hate her!!!! She gets around!" And an occasional smart alec such as myself who writes "Go read a book." (Sometimes I like to leave comments like that last one up for a few days. Hahaha. Once I saw the popular lyrics, "If everyone cared, and nobody cried, If everyone loved, and nobody lied, If everyone shared and swallowed their pride, Then we'd see the day that nobody died." of Nickelback.

My point? After a couple days in this job, nobody wants this job. So, teachers, faculty, counselors, administration, be a little more patient when your janitor tells you they can't vacuum your room because they're understaffed. When you start feeling frustrated, ask your high school-age sibling to start working at your school as a janitor. This will ease up their burden and allow for more time to clean your room. The bathrooms aren't fun to clean, but you'll get used to it for the most part. And when you're not, you pick up the poo, and move on. Hey, you get paid for it.

The Few, the Bold, the Proud, the Janitor.

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