The Stuff I Collect

• Steel can lids
• Bottle caps
• Corks
• Can tabs
• Milk jug rings
• Fortunes from fortune cookies
• CD cases
• CDs
• Broken zippers
• Buttons
• Audiocassettes
• Orange pill bottles
• Glass jars, bottles, etc.
• Springs
• Clock parts

I will continue to update as I think of more things.  If you have these things or want to save these things for me, I'd definitely appreciate it.

Idiotic Inspirations

Sometimes I’m an idiot.

Luckily, sometimes in correcting my idiotic mistakes, I gain new insight.

The particular idioticness of which I speak is in regards to my last packet of homework.  I had started it in a rough draft, and then proceeded to work in a different document, pulling the information from the rough draft to the less-rough draft.  This, however, is not why I’m an idiot.

Short story long, I saved my final draft over my rough draft, sending several pages into computer oblivion.  Whoops.

So, just now, I finished rewriting all three of my book annotations (about five pages long altogether), and as one might suspect, it is not as easy to write about a book several weeks after having read it.  Don’t get me wrong; I like to give books a couple of days to marinate, but not a couple of weeks.

This is where my idiot-correction comes into a positive light.

As I was rewriting my annotation on Yi-Fu Tuan’s Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience, which explores the difference between “space” and “place” (think of it like as what makes a house a home), I thought about a conversation I had with my older brother, Jason, about a week ago as we were driving to our family’s holiday party. 

This particular bit of the conversation began with Jason telling me of his girlfriend’s displeasure working at a Macy’s Clinique counter, where the employees are pressured to sell, sell, sell!

I said I would suck at working on commission. 

He felt the same way about himself: “I can’t sell something if I don’t believe in it myself.”

He told me about how he did enjoy working a plant sale in Columbus for a few days: “I really liked helping people figure out which tree was best for them.  Like, with their soil and light, and how much care they want to give it, and directing them to good information on care.  If I didn’t think we had the right tree for them, I wouldn’t sell them one, but I’d tell them what to look into.”

I agreed that, although I feel like I’m not a very good salesperson, I wouldn’t want to sell someone a product of mine that they would not truly enjoy.  “If you’re not going to love it and keep it and it’s not going to make you happy, I don’t want you to have it, so keep your money.”

This sentiment may or may not change as I find myself in a state of extreme poverty.

Reinventing Wheels

“There’s no such thing as a new idea.  Everything you could possibly think of or do has already been thought of or done before.  Don’t worry about having new ideas; instead, think about how you can apply those ideas to your own work.”

That piece of advice was given to my class by John Pearson, an art professor at Oberlin College.  He might have been partially kidding, but I took it to heart, and think about it on a fairly regular basis.


I don't worry about having new ideas.  The wheel was already invented, so I just worry about how I can use its sleek, rolling roundness to my advantage.

So if wheel-invention has been taken care of, why do I often feel like I have to invent it again?

See, I get these ideas about how I can apply different ideas to the way I think about things.  I figure, a little bit of research to pull everything together, and WHAMMO!  I can analyze and synthesize. 

Incorrect!

Despite the glory that is the internet and the wonder that is a library, I can never friggen find the things I want to know.

Last semester, I wanted to analyze textile production methods.  Apparently, no one had really thought to pull all of those different things together, so I spent days in tears trying to find something  that I could analyze.

This semester, I'm developing a business structure for myself.  Being an artist, art makes sense, so I thought, "Gee whiz, I'll apply art movements and theories to business!"

As it turns out, in the thousands of years that art has been around, no one put the information into a nice, accessible spreadsheet.  Don't even tell me Leonardo didn't get a kick out of spreadsheets.  I'll bet Salvador Dali dreamed of spreadsheets.

Okay, so maybe I didn't expect a spreadsheet, but an outline?  Bulleted list?  Something not spread out in bunches of books and websites?

So here's the thing:
Instead of spending a little time gathering information and reading books on the effects of art, I've spent three weeks compiling a twenty page spreadsheet of [most of] the major art movements, founders, et cetera.

Think twenty pages is a lot?  It started out 60, but I reduced the font size to 7.

The damned thing isn't even close to being complete, and I've only touched the surface in regards to analysis.

Doing all of this makes me wonder... how many others have gone through the same struggle?  So, if you know anyone who needs a spreadsheet of art movements, or a description of various textile production methods and their effects, please have email me, and I'll send it right on over to them.  Heck, once I get a website going, I'll post them on there.


Wheel: round  

(Check!)

...and on with the rest of my life.

Sometimes I hate knowing stuff.

What if...

Do you ever think about the “What ifs”?

How would your life be different if things had not gone the way they did?

I often take a moment to analyze where I am and how I got here. I never look back and say to myself, “Oh, I should have worked harder” or “I made a big mistake in doing that” or even “I would have been much happier if…” 

Whether or not everything happens for a reason, everything happens, and very little of it is in our control. 

Yesterday, as I was making monkey bread to take to a friend’s house, I started thinking about where I am now and how it’s not at all where I’d imagined I would be two years ago…

Imagine today is November 22nd, 2007.

It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m at my grandpa’s house.  My cousin’s daughter 18-month-old daughter is sitting on my lap, tasting all of the various foods on my plate while my grandpa asks me if I’m done with school yet. 

“Not yet.  About one more year,” I tell him.  We realized some time ago that it’s pointless trying to explain grad school to someone who did just fine supporting his family with only an eighth grade education.  He can barely hear me, anyway.

My plan is as follows: be accepted to Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, graduate from Oberlin College in the spring, attend Harvard for a year, graduate from Harvard with a Master’s in Art Education in Spring 2009, get a job, get a puppy… in two years, I should have my life together.

I mean, when I visited, I fell in love with Harvard and Harvard fell in love with me, so I’m practically in, and everything should just fall into place.  I’ve worked so hard to get this; this is just right for me.

Alright, back to present day.

...life didn’t work out as I had planned. 

Instead of having a job, a place of my own, a Master’s degree in Art Ed from Harvard, and a puppy, I am currently unemployed/working on starting my own business, live with my mom, am working on a Master’s degree in Socially Responsible Business from Goddard, and am still anxiously awaiting that puppy.

However, when I think about it, I am pretty okay with where I am and where I’m going.  If I had worked harder and had gotten into Harvard, I might have missed out on a lot of people and places and things that have really affected my life…  the people I’ve met, the friendships I’ve nurtured, the boys I’ve dated, the places I’ve been, the skills I’ve acquired, the revelations, the triumphs, the heartbreak, the epiphanies…

It occurred to me again last night, as I talked to my [new] friend David about start-ups, business models, making projections, and marketing; Trina circa 2007 would have been baffled and confused by the knowledge and skills I have attained since then, whereas for Trina circa 2009, it has become second nature.

Just to be clear, every time my life doesn’t go as planned, I don’t just pop right back and brush myself off, heading off optimistically in a new direction.  I know that (despite my efforts), I cannot plan my life, and sometimes I’m going to be disappointed, even heartbroken or traumatized.  However, I also know that I have had my world turned upside-down and shaken on numerous occasions, and each time I managed to recover and make the most of it.

So, what if I fail?  What if Pretty Smart Stuff just doesn’t work out and my life’s plans are tossed into a trash compactor?

I don’t know.

...but I always seem to figure out something, right?

Healthcare Hell

    The other night I went to the pharmacy to get a new prescription filled.  It’s an anti-inflammatory that will hopefully prevent my knees from occasionally giving out.  For some reason, the pharmacy techs couldn’t find my insurance information and said the one month supply would be $71… and that’s for the generic.


I’ve been thinking a lot about the cost of healthcare lately… possibly because of the national healthcare bills, and possibly because come August 22, I will turn 25 and will no longer be covered as a school-going dependent under my mom’s insurance. 

….and quite frankly, that scares the hell out of me. 

While a lot of people my age seem to get by without healthcare coverage, I seem to be a bit lacking in the “youthful health” department.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I typically feel bright and healthy, but that is with medication. 

So, let me give you a “brief” rundown of my medical history:

• As a child, due to myriad ear infections, I not only developed awesome balance (hah!), but also incurred hearing loss.
• At 3 or 4, I had to have my feet fixed because they were angled wrong. Introducing: orthopedic saddle shoes until age 7!
• At 6, my permanent teeth started coming in with soft enamel.  Next came a lifetime of dental procedures.
• At 8, I started needing glasses.
• At 12, braces (hey look, now my top and bottom teeth actually touch so I can chew!)
• At 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. 
• At 16, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, depression, and chronic migraines. However in order to discover this, I was sent to a bazillion specialists and had an absurd amount of tests done. 
• At 17, I had surgery for enlarged turbinates (the things in your nose that pull the air through so you can breathe...which is apparently important)
• At 19, I had panic attacks, blackouts, and was also diagnosed with ADHD and endometriosis.  I had surgery to remove endometriosis.
• At 20, due to all of the medical problems, I started freaking out a lot and became really unhealthy and had to have a lot of bloodwork done. Then I endured six months of chemically-induced menopause to get the endometriosis that the surgery didn’t get.
• At 22, I fell down a flight of stairs and got a concussion, then had to go through therapy to teach my brain to talk to my hands again.  Additionally, brain scans showed potential signs of MS, and a tumor was found in my right knee.  We’re keeping an eye on the brain.
• At 24, after several years of knee issues, I’ve been seeing an orthopedic surgeon and have had x-rays and MRIs done of both knees.

...that was pretty brief, right? 

Fortunately, my dad had a good job with good benefits that continued on after his death (and a legal battle with his company), but I won’t have those benefits much longer.  So, two weeks ago, as I was driving home from the hospital after having MRIs of both knees, I wondered how much an MRI might cost without insurance… or even my prescriptions. 

For some time now, I’ve taken three different prescriptions daily: an anti-depressant for generalized anxiety disorder and depression, a stimulant for ADHD, and birth control to help control endometriosis.   

Without prescription insurance, those three medications cost $140, $321, and $86 respectively*… per month!!!  In addition, I take a migraine medication about once or twice a month which is $24/pill.  Add that new $71 anti-inflammatory to the list, and it’s $642 each month… over $7700 a year in medication alone.

Obviously I need to visit a doctor to get those prescriptions:

• Four trips to the neurologist in a year is $360.
• My yearly visit to the vaginacologist is $170, and standard checks like the pap smear add another $307.
• Two trips to the dentist cost $174, not including x-rays.
• My annual optometrist checkup however, is free, thanks to the eye doc being my sister’s best friend.

Therefore, assuming everything stays as-is, I’m looking at an annual cost of $8715.


Of course, as my medical history shows, the chances of remaining “as-is” are slim: 

For example, the cause of endometriosis is unknown and its eventual return is inevitable. Now, while some things help make it better, like birth control pills or pregnancy (the latter being an obvious bad idea when it comes to reducing healthcare costs), I will probably have to go through at least one more ($7000) surgery and/or chemically-induced menopause in my life.  The way menopause works is by an injection of Lupron Depot once a month for six months.   Those six shots are $785…each. 

In a couple years, I’ll need another MRI of my brain to check on the lesions, and if anything has changed, a spinal tap to be sure.


Heaven forbid I become ill.


What about preventative medicine? 
At some point, I’d like to get the HPV vaccination, which is three shots for $156 each (and even my current company doesn’t cover it).  I know I’m also at risk for skin cancer, so I might want to see a dermatologist at some point.


Clearly things might be cheaper with some health insurance, even crappy health insurance.  But how the hell am I supposed to be approved for it? 

Pre-existing conditions?  Yessir.  Granted, all of my conditions have nothing to do with taking care of myself.  On the outside, I’m a young, healthy, 5’9” female weighing 169 pounds (within the healthy range for my build and height).  I don’t smoke, rarely drink alcohol, wear sunscreen, eat my fruits and vegetables, have strong bones and muscles, a healthy heart, low blood pressure, low cholesterol, an exceptional IQ, and take vitamins.  Hell, I’ve only ever had one cavity in my life!


If I cannot afford doctors bills and prescription medications, where does that leave me? 
     I see the following as my options:

• Reduce medication by half where possible.
  
• Pros: Reduce costs by $200 each month
• Cons: Reduced effectiveness
• Take different medications (for example, methylphenidate instead of time-released Concerta).
• Pros: Reduce prescription costs to about $72 per month.
• Cons: Side effects are inevitable, and the medications may not work well with my body chemistry.
• Go to free clinics like Planned Parenthood for health services.
• Pros: Affordable
• Cons: Difficult to get in, they don’t have a sense of my medical history, care probably isn’t as good

   
Saying “to hell with healthcare” is clearly not an option for me.  Untreated, I would  be subject to crippling pain, absurd blood loss, depression, panic attacks, brain damage (as a result of untreated migraines), and infertility… for a start. 

At that point, it would be a good thing I wasn’t trying to pay for healthcare, because I certainly wouldn’t be able to work. 

So I ask you, how can I focus on starting a business and saving the world when my own personal wellbeing is at stake?  While I’m busy factoring things like taxes, profit-and-loss, market research, and business frameworks, in the back of my mind I’m freaking out. 

The thing is, considering all of the medical conditions I don’t have, I think I have it pretty good.  I feel very fortunate for the health that I have.

...but how the hell am I ever going to manage to pay to keep both myself and a business healthy?

* Prescription prices are from www.drugstore.com and Target Pharmacy.

Okay, Universe, I hear you.

For those of you who are new to this, Pretty Smart Stuff is the business I'm creating as part of my graduate work through Goddard College and, despite this business having unusually low start-up costs (hello, other people's garbage!), my mom's generosity in giving me a place to live without charging me rent (hello, student-status!), and my putting off paying for school until later (hello, to you, too, student loans!), life isn't cheap.

To combat poverty and credit card payments, I've been a part-time nanny, but now Miles, the adorable little guy on whom I've been sitting for over 8 months, is going to daycare so he can be exposed to other people his size. I'm interpreting all of this as the Universe telling me to quit putzing around and get in gear.

And in gear I am getting... starting with actually building my workshop so I have a place to work, as well as hopefully selling my car and buying a truck (which is terribly exciting for a girl whose first vehicle was an F-150, as well as a possibility, as I no longer need a backseat for child-safety harnesses).

I figure, if I buy a truck for less than the Seafoam Slut (*ahem* 1999 Ford Escort) is sold, I can get a bit of money from that, and if I'm not driving places, I won't need to buy much gas, then maybe I can actually get some stuff done and sold. Wouldn't that be dandy?

I also need to make the site not suckterrible, which might mean I need to take a small vacation (yum, vacation!) to Brooklyn, NY so Ben can help me fix my site. Or I guess I could ask one of those other 57 geeks I know. But wouldn't it also be nice to get out of Oberlin for a couple days? Yessir!

So there you have it. I'm accepting a kick in the pants from the powers that be. Awesome.