Times are hard…and I’m hella busy. So busy that I am spending all my free time writing papers before the semester ends next week (on Dec. 5).  So this week, my new twitter friend, d-paul, who also has his own blog, has so graciously offered to guest post here at Life in the Middle Lane, while I crank out a couple of papers on Inclusionary Zoning.

I think he’s quite awesome (and damn near as random as me), so even though he called me a weird bird (yeah, I know), I still think he’s cool enough to hang with us,

He’s whipped us up a little something, something to get us into the holiday spirit (or not).I, personally, am boycotting the holidays.  But YAY, Thanksgiving (and days out of work!)

Enjoy

-M-

Paul’s Holiday Truths

Some thoughts about the days to come…

(he had a really cute picture here, but I don’t know how to make it display…)

-          Thanksgiving should be moved to a Friday.  Well that or just make it a 2-dayer…

-          Turkey contains some sort of muscle relaxant…

-          Christmas letters are so corny that I actually have come to like reading them…

-          Speaking of corny, this is your window to wear that sweater you got last year…

-          No putting up trees before Thanksgiving – it’s just lame…

-          Yams are low in calories – right?

-          Red wine goes with everything – screw the pundits…

-          Pumpkin pie should be cut into quarters – this way we don’t need to feel bad about asking for more…

-          A gift available online is a good gift…

-          Who invented wrapping presents anyway?

-          Eggnog is yummy, but why not just drink the brandy?

-          Christmas music is sort of amusing, but never before December.  What’ up with that?

-          When in doubt, always ask for a book.  You just might learn something…

-          Window for wearing my red button down starts in 10 days…

-          Gratitude is good for you…

I’m applying for a fellowship that requires that I write a personal statement.  In a week or two, I’m actually going to post the final product.

I’ve had to write a few personal statements over the years, for undergrad, and during the application process for law school and graduate school.  Each personal statement is a little different, and I like to draw on different experiences to create a vision of myself that makes people want to pick me for their program.

In this case, my personal statement is a big component of whether I am accepted into this fellowship program.  And entrance into the fellowship program will open doors for multiple interviews with local governments throughout the United States.  It’s kind of a big deal, and I want to show myself to be the awesome leader that I am.

For the past few weeks I have been thinking (more than usual) what it means to be a good leader, and I am always on the lookout for my leadership in action. Today, I was able, within a 20 time span to get a glimpse of Monica-The Leader.

The following conversations with my classmates simulated (in my mind at least) what I would be like as a manager.  The personal insight into these conversations also made me realize how much I depend on my soft skills. They reminded me of the importance of context when making decisions. And it brought to my attention some potential weaknesses in my leadership style.

A classmate in another department called me and said the following:

Him: Monica, I’m exhausted. I’ve been working on blah, blah, blah project and I really want to go to bed. Do you know of anything happening in class today that I NEED to be there for?

Me: Honey, I don’t know what we are doing in class, but it doesn’t matter. Go home. Go to bed, if anything important happens in class, I’ll send you an email.

Him: I thought that would be your answer, that’s why I called you (instead of our other classmate, S).

Me: Ha! You knew I would give you a pass! Hmmm, what does that say about me…. Okay, love, go home, sleep well.

Then I had a conversation with another classmate about a problem she was having getting in touch with a government hack. She asked me for guidance and advice.

Her: I’ve been trying to get in touch with this government bureaucrat about XYZ policy for a paper I’m writing, but he isn’t responding to my email. It’s weird, he responds to my other email about other stuff. We’ve been corresponding for weeks.

Me: He doesn’t want to talk you about xyz. XYZ policy, if implemented, will increase his workload.  If you want to talk to him, you have to call him and bully him into telling you what he thinks about XYZ. He’s not going to respond to your email on this topic. You also need to come to terms with the idea that he won’t talk to you about this. It’s too much of a political hot potato for him.

Her: If my finding is that the government employees don’t want this policy, then it is going to make someone angry.

Me: You are going to make someone angry. Get used to it and get over it. It’s your job to get the truth, not to worry about who gets mad about it.

These conversations made me think about what kind of leader am I? Am I the kind of leader that shows compassion for folks (even when I suspect that my classmate was up late last time because he waited to the last minute to get something done).

Or am I the kind of leader that expects folks to suck it up, and do what they are supposed to do, and make the tough decisions?

Hmmm.

Empathy

Reflecting on how my classmate in the first conversation made me reevaluate how others see me.  I generally see myself as a hard-ass. I even had a professor (or two) comment on how they wouldn’t want want work for me.  I demand excellence, in myself and in others. And I don’t give breaks….or do I?

Thinking that I could potentially be seen as a softie was a huge blow to my perceived management style.  But when I think about how I deal with real people, I see a myriad of examples where I cut other people slack. (Maybe I’m not such a meanie, after all)

I apparently have a huge capacity for empathy – when the situation warrants it.  I have often found myself, the day after pulling an all-nighter, needing to go home and recharge.  I understood his situation, and I knew that it would be better for him (and me) if he got some sleep today.

In the real world, would I have been so forgiving if it were female employee telling me her kid was up all night sick and she needed to take some time off? Of course.

What if an employee took a day off to play video games? Probably not.

Intuitiveness

On the other hand, in the second situation, I wasn’t willing to let my classmate off the hook. I knew it was in the best interest of her paper to get the truth from that government hack.  I knew he was ignoring her because she was asking a question that he didn’t want to answer.

I was able to motivate her to keep digging and I was able to read between the lines quickly to figure out what the issue was and give her suggestions on how to go about fixing it.

Soft Skills

Leadership is more than having the right answer. It is more than being the best at Excel or some fancy design software or being able to do the best regression analysis.

Leadership comes down to people.

I worry that as I apply for jobs, my strengths, those soft skills like intuition and empathy, aren’t going to be as well received as some other MPAer how spent the last year and a half actually learning statistics, and excel and GIS. (bleh)

I spend the last year and a half learning about people. I’ve learned how to motivate and negotiate. I’ve learned how to recognize the strengths and weaknesses of others (and help others to be successful). I’ve learned how to connect differing ideas into a workable plan. I’ve learned how to deal with weirdo personalities. I’ve learned how to pick good team members, and when that fails, I’ve learned how to work in the most jacked-up team ever. I’ve learned to listen and give good advice.  I’ve learned to do small talk, and get people to like me.

And when it all boils down, people like me should will be running the show anyway.  As my colleagues and I make our way up the career ladder, it won’t take long to separate the idea leaders from the task leaders. (And there is nothing wrong with being a task leader. You just shouldn’t be leading people. You should be doing your tasks.)

But I truly consider myself a big idea person. I don’t care how something gets done. Just do it.

So when interviewers ask me about my strengths the challenge for me will be, not only tell them my strengths, but also why those skills matter. And why they should hire me. Immediately.

I mean, anyone can learn budgeting or finance or statistical analysis, but not everyone can deal with people.

I like to surround myself with creative people.

In the past, I would have said that I like to surround myself with creative people because I don’t have a creative bone in my body.

I now know that this is not true. I do stuff.

However, while I accept my creativity, I have to keep it real. My creativity manifests mostly in my thought process, rather than in a physical form. I still can’t draw worth a damn. My paintings are all rather abstract (even when I don’t want them to be). My short stories have minimal plot (they are more like scenes than stories). And while my poems are the bomb (if I do say so myself), they are few and far between. And it has been far, far too long since I wrote anythng worth showing folks.

And that is why I’m hating on poets.

On Monday, I went to a spoken word thing.  I call it a “thing” because it wasn’t a slam or a competition, so I don’t know how to catergorize it. And for you local Triangle peeps, come bless the mic and tell me when so I can come clap for you. (Its every Monday night)

So.

This poetry thing was in Chapel Hill and was a very different experience from the Atlanta and Durham poetry things that I have gone to in the past.

Let me explain.

My Atlanta experience with poetry things has been really gay. Mostly women speaking on how much they love women and all the reasons why they love women and all the ways they love women.

And in Durham, the poetry things are rather militant and political. They talk about revolutions, and overthrowing the government, and smoking weed and embracing diversity.

Monday, the poets were mostly college kids, idealistic, sugary. They lacked the life experience to really talk about anything that makes you wanna holla. Some of the “deepness” seemed forced or contrived. Their pieces didn’t evoke any lasting emotion. There were a couple of times that I may have even snickered and thought, What the hell are they talking about?

But even in the midst of that, there were flashes of brilliance. Some of those kids had skills. They had word play, they had depth, they made me think, they made me listen. They made me jealous.

They had the gift. They were real poets, speaking of experience beyond their time, making me feel some kinda way.

That’s why I hate on poets.

I’m jealous of the way poets see and are in tune with people, situations, circumstances, emotions. Poets tell us how we feel. They tell our stories. Its like they know us (all of us) And then they have the nerve to add rhyme? Yep, I’m hating. ‘Cause I’m jealous.

I remember (in my younger years) when I could sit down with a pen and a notepad and the words would just…flow. And I would surprise myself.

And Monday, as I listened to these kids, I was reminded of my younger self, with my half-boiled, just below the surface emotions that I carried on my sleeve, and I was sad for me.

Young Monica was a poet. She could take a situation, (even an ugly one) flip that ish and make her momma say, where you copy that from? (True story)

Now, I don’t even know what I do. I’m hard. Cynical. Blah. Sometimes I think I’m sleepwalking. And I’m definitely not writing any poetry.

I’ve lost something. I’v ignored my sensitivity. I’ve ignored my humanity. Not is the sense that I don’t care about the world, ’cause I do care. But I look at life at an arm’s length. I don’t let anything get too close.

And its hard to write about emotional sh!t when you keep your emotions all locked up.

Monday, I took notes at the poetry thing. When someone said something that spoke to me, I wrote it down. Don’t know what I’m going to do yet. But I’m going to do something. Dammit.

I couldn’t sleep Monday night. I tossed and turned and wrote poetry in my dreams. Then I got up Tuesday and I couldn’t remember any of it. I would have felt better had I just sat up and let my pen work. *sigh

I gotta strengthen my flabby poetic muscles.

I’m going to keep going to poetry things. I’m going to let the gf give me painting lessons (and writing exercises) and I’m going to shake the dust off my raw emotion and let it out. I’m going to take more opportunities to think poetically.

Because I’m sick of hating on the poets and their ability to twist vocabulary in a way that makes my soul ache.

Sh!t, I used to be able to do the same thing.

For a couple of months, I’ve been toying with the idea of developing an on-line networking site.  I’ve spent countless hours (when I probably should have been working on my studies) thinking about the different aspects and features of my very cool networking site.  I multi-tasked in class looking at different software that I could use to develop it. I thought about domain names, and mission statements, and how to build a business brand (or at least a non-profit) around my idea.  Like everything I do, I obsessed about it.

So.

Here’s my idea. Or the story behind my idea.

2 weeks ago I listened (or pretended to) to a lecture by a government hack who was talking a group of other government hacks (and future government hacks, i.e. MPAers) about the way we Gen Y and Millennial (and Gen X to a certain extent) MPA, MPP degree holders manage our careers.

His main points:

We change jobs frequently. We aren’t attached to a job title, an organization or a boss.  If something better, more fun, more interesting, more engaging comes along; we bounce like a bad check.  On to bigger and better things. (This is not a surprise to anyone under 32.)

We change sectors frequently. We don’t particularly care if we work for non-profits, governments (local, state or federal), or the private sector or ourselves. And at some point in our careers, most of us will have worked for a combination of these entities.  Most of us are in it to make a difference, change the world, start a revolution-otherwise we would be getting MBA’s and not MPA’s. And chasing the almighty dollar.

Ahem.  That is the back story.

This is the front.

I am looking for a work opportunity and I want to expand my professional work-related network. I would say I want to start my career but that sounds so stick in the mud and is so.not.me. I would say I’m looking for a job, but “job” sounds hard and boring and I don’t want work to be hard, I want it to be fun, engaging and I want to contribute to the welfare of my fellow man, dammit.  And I really don’t care who I work for.

And I figured there are lots of others just like me, graduating with a MPA, MPP, Political Science, Social Policy, blah blah blah degree but not really looking to be a cog in someone else’s wheel. And I know there are other young professionals and recent grads just like us who are trying to get off the bureaucracy bandwagon and actually DO something useful.  Even if it’s just for volunteer.

And then I thought, Wouldn’t it be fun if we all (all the world changers, in all job sectors, around the world) had a place where we could meet, greet, exchange ideas, talk about available jobs, share our work/war stories (horror and other) network, chit chat, build a community, make a difference, help each other and save the world (and the whales)?

My networking site could be a hub for all the sh!t that I think about when I’m sitting in class learning (supposedly) how to affect organizational change or read a regression line.

Today my school sent me a survey, no doubt sponsored by the government hack from the beginning of the story, and it listed some of the best known on-line social media outlets (myspace, facebook, linkedin, blogs)  and asked the question, which of these do you utilize  most? I scrolled down to the bottom of the list, because, of course, I use them all and I want pick the other box so I can add twitter (and ping) and when I get to the bottom I see a website that I have never heard of.

Like all things internet related, I must know what this mysterious, unknown website is……

And damn if it’s not my f*cking idea!  Just in case you, like me, have been living under a rock, apparently, and have never heard of this site; it is Idealist.org and it is pretty f*cking cool.  I’m just mad I didn’t think of it first. Dammit.

Now I have to think of another big idea. Sh!t.

I had three really great conversations with cool, intelligent people over the course of 48 hours. And the topic of conversation?  ME!

This is what I learned from those conversations:

>>I am under tremendous pressure. Not because of deadlines, and papers and graduating from MPA School, however. I am under increasingly large amounts of pressure because I care too damn much about what other people think of me. Large amounts of my time is wasted because I am wondering, thinking, stressing over what this or that person is thinking about my decisions, my words, my life. I’ve called myself a chameleon for years, it is only now that I realize that this is not a compliment.  My chameleon behavior has caused me to wonder “Who the hell am I, really?” Because I’m someone different for everybody.

This is a problem, but I have no one to blame but myself.

>>I have carried friends and loved ones on my back, making sure that their lives ran smoothly, fixing their problems, being a sounding board but in the meantime I forgot about little ol’ me.  Who the f*ck takes care of me?  Instead of advocating on my own behalf, I have been more likely to work for the best interest of others. I ask, What works for you? What do you need? What will make you happy? Never once stopping to ask myself, What the f*ck do you want, Monica?

This behavior must cease and desist.

>>I say bad things about myself all the time. Regardless of all the great things I do on a daily. Despite all the awesomeness that seeps from my pores on the pages of this blog.   I often have feeling of unworthiness, inadequacy (this would be worse if I were a man, hee hee), I dwell on my shortcomings, my mistakes, regrets, etc. In short, I am never good enough (in my own mind).

And that is just plain wrong! I am so cool.

How do I know? Everyone tells me so .

Seriously, I have NEVER given myself a reason not to believe in my coolness. I always bring it. I rock. (Even as I say it, I don’t know why I have such a hard time believing it.)

I have to unwind my negative tape. And put in a better more positive tape (thanks for that visual, gf!) And give myself a daily pep talk.

>>My life is better when I’m spontaneous. And flying by the seat of my pants.  When I make a decision quickly, I’m a happy camper.  If I have time to stress, agonize, and worry about a problem, then I stress and worry, then make the decision anyway, but at the end I have a decision and an ulcer.

My need for spontaneity may explain why procrastination works so well for me. The last minute allows me to do what I need to do.  Then I release the decision, project, problem into the Universe, and I don’t have to worry about it anymore.  When I have too much time to work on a project, I end up stressing over it, and waiting til the last minute anyway.

>>I’m a rule breaker. I like to do things my way. I don’t like to walk single file. I don’t like to follow the speed limit. I don’t follow directions well. I will do stupid stuff sometimes just to see if I can get away with it.

But you know what? For 26 mutha f-ing years, I have done NOTHING but follow the rules and do what everyone expected of me.

And I’m over it.

I have been having a reoccurring NIGHTMARE for at least 3 years, where I’m suffocating and no one will help me, even when I scream my little head off.  Tuesday, someone that I pay to listen to me said something along the line of ” Well, if you’d let her out of her cage more often she wouldn’t try to kill you.”

She didn’t really say that. But she should have.

What she did say was that I am all I need and I am good enough. And when I free myself from the pressure of being PERFECT then I’ll stop suffocating. And when I truly understand and believe in myself, my super scary nightmare will go away. Because the real Monica is ready to stand up.

Intellectually I get all this. I see how all these horrible bad habits make my life harder and miserable. But old habits are hard to break. Will people still love me if I start caring for myself more than them? I sure hope so, but that is not the point here.

The point is that I’m learning, slowly but surely how to get back to me (for the first time, ever).

And I love my gf, ’cause she lets me be a complete teary mess and she listens to me.  She reminded me (and I didn’t even have to pay her for this nugget of wisdom) of all the things I’ve done over the past 18 months where I did what I wanted instead of what EVERYONE else expected.

• I broke up with my fiancé- who is a great guy, btw (just not for me)
• I started dating a woman
• I told my family that I’m dating a woman
• I moved out on my own
• I started graduate school
• I’m taking a hodge podge of non-finance/budget classes
• I’m moving far far away from here

And these are all things that make me happy. And I don’t care what you other f*ckers think!

One of my favorite shows is Grey’s Anatomy. And one of my favorite relationships on the show isn’t Callie and Hahn-no, it’s seriously not. My favorite relationship on the show is Grey and Yang. Why? Those two have the most enduring relationship of anyone on the show.  And they don’t even sleep together.

They share their secrets, their fears, their problems, their triumphs and happy times. They are each other’s person.

What does it mean-this notion of being someone’s person?

It means that everyone needs someone that they trust completely.  Everyone needs someone that they can tell anything to, that they can be totally completely their most authentic self. Everyone needs someone who they know will love and respect and not judge them no matter what.

It is so hard to find someone like that. We wear so many masks every day that preclude us from finding our person. We share pieces of ourselves with others but we rarely trust, even our friends, enough to completely let our hair down enough and let all our foolishness hang all out.

I had a conversation with a friend about the guy with which she is having an affair. I asked her why she continues to do it, even when she knows that it is a completely bad decision. Her answer was that she couldn’t stop herself because he was her person. He was the one person who knew her completely.  He was the one person that she connected with on all levels.

I was so happy for her, that she found this person and has them in her life. (Even though she was in tears because she wants to break it off).  And I must admit that I was more than a little bit jealous.  Not because of her specific relationship, but because of the deepness of the connection between them.

My relationship with the gf is still new and since our relationship is mostly conducted via telephone we haven’t had much of a chance to forge that connection.  And still I swear we share a brain. Countless times we damn near say the same thing to each other at the same time. We crave the same food at the same time. I’ll text message her and get one from her at the same time. Last week we had a conversation where we realize that most days of the week, we share a brain. And I told her – I wish I had my own brain, but since I have to share one, I’m glad to share one with her.  She laughed and dared me to write about it in a blog. To which I replied…. Already writing it down.

I know that these are fairly superficial examples, but they still make me smile. I’ve never been as open and honest and authentic (with myself or anyone else) as I am with her.  And I’m constantly pushing myself to shed my masks and stop filtering my words and let all my foolishness hang out. And I remind myself to trust her to love and respect and not judge me.  Ultimately, I know that it is up to me to let her in. And I want to let her in.

Why? Because I think she could be my person. And I don’t want to miss out on that.

Power Dyke: A Power Dyke is a lesbian who has gained a position of power, either within the LGBTQ community, or in the world at large. She could be the head of a non-profit agency, a politician or successful in business.

This is going to be me one day.

One day, my picture will accompany this definition.  

I’m going to be all three (business woman, non-profit leader, f-ing awesome politician)

Wish me luck, cheer me on.

Here are some other fun lesbian definitions.

In MPA school we spend a lot of time talking about public policy and how policy affect public administrators and since my class is a pretty liberal crew we discuss our opinions with each other ad nausem. In this most historic American week of my lifetime, Barack Obama was elected to be our 44^th president (Yay) California banned gay marriage (boo), and in the most boring Public Administration conference ever I learned that America is indeed in a recession and it will probably get worse before it gets better (Argh!!!).

So, today, I will answer 2 questions that I have been asked over and over and over… and one question that I asked on Twitter that no one took the bait on.

1. What do you think about the Obama Victory?

I am super excited that Barack Obama was elected President. Why, you asked?

Because this was the first presidential election that my baby sister has ever voted in (she’s 18), and I wanted her to have a positive experience.

Because lots and lots of people who have never voted before took part in our political system (and the system f-ing worked!!!!)

And not only did he win, he BLUEd up some states. North Carolina, Indiana, Florida, some other midwestern states that I can’t think of!!!! I am so proud of my country right now. America rocks!

Obama (whether you like him or not) inspires people. He has restore hope and optimism to a bunch of cynical, hard-hearted, apolitical Americans and  I hope to see more good people entering politics because of him.

He has restored the WORLD’S faith in America. His election proves that Americans aren’t as stupid as I (and every other country on the planet) thought they were in 2004.

He and Michelle are just so f-ing cool! I really just want to be their friend and chil-lax in the White House having conversations, babysitting the girls and hanging out with the family.

This is the first presidential election that I have ever voted in where the guy that I voted for won.

This is the first election that I think people 18-35 had a candidate that they could truly relate to and believe in. Gens X, Y and millennials actually made a difference. Several of my best friends has been working TIRELESSLY for the Obama campaign and I KNOW that their efforts made the difference.

The election of Obama signifies the end of an era and I am so glad to see it go.

(****notice that none of my reasons have to do with him being a Black man****)

And a follow up: This historical election is one of those things where people ask, “Where were you when Obama got elected?” Here is my answer: When CNN and NBC called the election for Obama, I was at home sharing the experience with the gf (over the telephone). In one moment the news anchors were talking, and then all we heard was screaming.  I was indisposed at the moment (in a unspecified location in my house, ahem) and couldn’t get up to see what the screaming was about. Luckily the gf was able to tell me that Obama had won. I couldn’t believe it. I’m still a little in shock.

2.  What do you think about the passage of California’s Prop 8 that bans gay marriage?

I am so disappointed at California. California has always been a beacon of life to a little lost black girl like me. It also seemed like the one place where all the people who were a little different, a little alternative, and little (or a lot) less normal could go and be accepted and thrive.  I have to rethink California now. And it makes me a little sad.

And I sit and think, how can the country, on the one hand, elect Barack in a landslide and then other the other, (in arguably most liberal state in the country) vote to ban gay marriage. I’m so confused and sad.

I mean, everything happened on the same ballot, so logically it follows that a lot of the people who voted for Obama voted for the ban. Right? What the f*ck is up with that?

Let’s assume for a moment.

Lots of Black people can out to vote for Obama. Could it be that historically oppressed Blacks voted to oppress another segment of society? Have they forgotten that equal and separate is NEVER really equal?  Have they forgotten that it took a coalition of Blacks and whites to affect change for Black people?

Homosexuals need our straight brothers and sisters to stand up for and with us if we are going to emerge from this constant battle of 3 steps forward, 2 steps f-ing back. *Sigh. This just reminds me of why I hate incrementalism.

Of course, I don’t know who actually voted for Prop 8, but lots of people seem to think it was people of color .

3.  Does the bust always follow the boom?

Economically speaking, it sure as hell seems that way. Every time someone explains economic policy, in terms of the current crises and the recession, I see a pattern Boom.Bust.Boom.Bust.Boom.Bust. The little squiggly lines on economic graphs show cycles of good and plenty, followed by deep dark recessions. In my life, I saw the dot com boom and bust and now the housing boom and bust.

For once I’d like things to be on a little flatter line. I think that a flat line would indicate folks having enough money (and nice nest egg savings) without the rampant consumerism that seems to drive the high boom.

Essentially, what goes up must come down.  So, if we never have those super high times, then we don’t have the far to fall.  Hence, no bust.  (this is all in my completely unprofessional non-economic opinion, of course.)

Happy Friday, party people. Be E-Z

I have a fat roll. Yes, I admit it. I only have one fat roll, and it really isn’t a roll.  It’s really just a itty bit of fat around my tummy, definitely not enough to create a full fledged roll. 

My fat roll is one of the top three parts I hate most about my body. And you know what I’ve noticed?

No one else cares about my fat roll.

No, scratch that. They care, just not in the way that I care. I hate my fat roll. Everyone else, well…

If I dance with someone, you know what their hands do? They rub on my f-ing fat roll!

Not just resting their hand on it. I mean, like caressing the fat roll.

If I hug someone, you know where their hands go? Around my fat roll? Yeah. They keep their hand there, and sometimes they caress my fat roll, as well.

My friends and family love my softness (i.e. doughiness). A couple of my friends call me a pillow.

Why?

Because I am comfortable to lay on, to hug, to rub on, to generally be close to.

And you know what is a big part of that?  My fat roll.

I am so self-conscience about my f-ing fat roll that I sometimes have trouble concentrating when someone has their fingers all up on it.

Why, instinctively, is the whole wide world is drawn to my fat roll?!!?!?  Why do other people like it so much, and I HATE, HATE, HATE it.

I’m sure it says something profound about me and my self-image….

This year was the first time I have ever dressed up from Halloween.

Weeks ago my friends and I were talking about how we were going to dress for the occasion. I heard so many sexy this or sexy that– totally not my style.  And since I grew up on Franklin, I’ve been there, saw that in terms of all the skanky chicks. It’s a bit overdone and I’m definitely over it.

But all the sexy talk got me thinking…

How about I take advantage of all the sexiness of my friends and go as a pimp? It sounded like a good idea at the time. I got to be sexy in an understated way. I got to play with wigs. I was fully clothed, thus staying relatively warm.

Unfortunately my Halloween didn’t go as well as planned. Why? I was so hyped about putting together my costume, dressing up, and going out, that by party time I was so sleepy that me, my wig, and my pimp cane could have gone to bed.  And my party partners were also rather tuckered out.

But we persevered!   We didn’t all just call it a night and go to bed.

Was Halloween a success? I don’t know. I tried to force it.  I tried to be a good sport since I put so much effort into making an effort but -in the end – I had to force it. And I probably should have stayed home.

Especially since the police shut down the party as we were walking towards it. At f-ing 1am. Sometimes Chapel Hill sucks.

I cannot wait to live in a place that knows that it wants to be a city and not some pseudo-village bull shit. Most cities would love to have 30,000+ people downtown eating and drinking and celebrating the city.  Not Chapel Hill. It is actively discussing ways to ask all those dollar spending people to take their dollars somewhere else.

Dear Chapel Hill,

Thanks for ruining the last Halloween of my extended childhood. I hate you today.

Signed, Monica