A day in the life of a vegetarian, tree-hugging, hippie.

Friday morning, my alarm clock 'alarmed' me after I apparently reached my snooze quota, causing my alarm to shut off as my eyes also remained shut. Miraculously, or maybe anticipating the next alarm and preparing another slap to the snooze button, I awoke only to notice the time. As quickly as the night seemed to pass, my heavy eyes found their focus and I frantically raced out of bed, did my morning rituals and headed for work. All in 15 minutes time. Thinking back, I idiotically ignored the message my alarm clock attempted to deliver -- just stay in bed! You see, the following events of my Friday morning simply reflect the realities of my eco-anxiety (it's true, read about it here: Eco-Anxiety) and what its like to be a vegetarian, slightly to the left east-coaster in Pomeroy. Enjoy my perils.

* * *

Back in September when I first arrived at the clinic, my co-workers immediately initiated me into their weekly ritual of "drink Friday" (the stimulant kind, not the depressant). As you can imagine, it took some serious arm-twisting. An excuse to have a weekly chai from Meyers? Tough decisions... Anyways, considering the already eventfulness of my morning, I desperately needed my aromatic, soothing cup of cleverly blended steamed soy milk and spicy goodness.  So as I patiently waited for my drink to place itself into my hands, Paula (one of the nurses) stops by my desk.
"So whatcha drinking today?" she asks.
"A soy chai, of course!" I proudly reply.
"Ohh, that's that hippie drink right?" she seriously questions. I can't help but laugh. I think to myself, "it's going to be one of those days." And I couldn't have been more right on. As Susie crossed the threshold into our back office, before I could repeatedly say "Thank you!" a dozen times, she tells me  I have a message. Curious, I inquire, "Oh?" She merely smirks as she hands me my chai, and my eyes are drawn to the graffiti on the lid of my cup.

I chuckle. Only in Pomeroy. Immediately two faces come to mind when I ponder who scribed this message. And merely a few minutes later, the culprit walks through the door and asks, "So did you get the message on your coffee?" I reply, "Yeah, Josh, thanks for the note."

* * *

Probably at the same time the soy milk for my chai was being steamed, I found myself also getting steamed. But not in the scolding, burning sense. More so on 'the rage' (as my EC community service superstar friend, Steph, would say) scale. Let me preface the next event by telling you about the white, Lloyd Center Clambake reusable bag that has sat under my desk since the first day I settled into my office space. It's purpose you ask? To collect recycling, of course. First off, one would think Washington, of all places, would be all gung-ho about recycling, right? Well, the west side, aka Seattle, takes recycling to all kinds of intense levels. The east side? Yeah, not so much. I witness plastic bottles get alley hooped into the trash like they belong there. Side note: the alley hooping usually only happens when I'm around. It's sort of a way to kind of ignite more of 'the rage' or simply for entertainment as they anticipate my reaction, which usually goes sort of like this. "Did you seriously just throw that away?" I say with a 'uh, hello' facial expression. Followed by my hand reaching into the trash, grab the bottle (or whatever it may be), and carry it with me until I can place it safely in the Lloyd Center bag.  Honestly, most have caught on to my quirks and began adopting my ways, well, usually only when I'm in their presence. Susie and Lisa most always defer their recyclable materials to me. But then there's Jeff, who finds pleasure in poking fun at my "eco-terrorist" ways. Oh, and Andrew who had the audacity to throw away the 50 or so paper-planes created in a module right in front of me. But don't worry, the second Andrew released his hand causing the planes to crash land in the trash, I spoke up, without thought, "Are you serious, Andrew?!" I caught him in plane (HA) sight. I then spent the remainder of the module unfolding each of the planes and still use them for scrap paper. He still makes paper planes and throws them away after each module. One day...

Gosh, I'm getting off topic. It's all relevant, though. Right? So, Recycling. Yes. You see on Thursday I peered under my desk to notice my overflowing sack of sundry papers and bottles. I thought to myself, "I should probably take care of that." Needless to say 5 o'clock came around and I left, forgetting to take my nifty recycling bag, but knowing it would be there in the morning... or so I thought. Because for the past six months I've been at the clinic, no one has ever touched my recycling bag... even when it surpasses its capacity, overflowing into my leg space. So while my chai was being steamed (bringing it all together again), the cause of my steaming rage came because I looked under my desk only to find my bag... empty! Now there's only one other person in our office who properly disposes of recycling, and thats Suzanne. She's actually the one who will notice my overflowing bag and ask if I'd like her to take care of it. However, she left before me the day before. When she came in on Friday, I got straight to the point, "Good morning, Suzanne. Did you take my recycling by any chance?" She replied no and told me she noticed it needed to be taken care of, but didn't touch it. My thinking wheels began to creak as they turned, I felt myself getting warmer. Susie noticed my distress, "What's the matter?" But before I could answer her question, I answered my own question of "what happened to my recycling?" I raced out the door to the trash bin outside. I opened the lid and under a bag of actual trash, there lay all the papers, cardboard, and bottles I so diligently saved. Susie, right behind me, uttered, "Uh oh. Why would they do that?" I didn't understand. As my own way of protesting, I went inside and grabbed my Lloyd Center bag and gloves. With the help of Susie, we salvaged all I could reach. I went up to the front desk to report my findings to Jeff, and with no surprise, didn't get too much sympathy. Rather, he told me I probably create a bigger carbon footprint by driving to the recycling bins. Tough crowd... At the end of this whole ordeal, the recycling finally made it to their proper disposal area thanks to Suzanne.

* * *

And lastly, the vegetarian issue. Well, this month marked my one year of being a vegetarian, or pescetarian if you want to get specific (being a New England native, I can't resist fish... well, when I'm there that is).  Naturally coming to a place where hunting takes precedence over just about everything, the whole "I don't eat meat" thing usually takes awhile for people to understand. The conversation typically goes something like this,
Them: "So you don't eat meat?"
Me: "Nope."
Them: "Not even beef?"
Me: "Nope, thats meat."
Them: "You eat chicken, though?"
Me: "Uh, no. Thats also meat."
Them: "How about elk?"
Me: "Could you just pass the salad, please?"

Now that most people I know understand that being a vegetarian means not eating beef, chicken, elk, quail, etc., they accept it. Well, thats unless you're like Josh who came into the office Friday afternoon with some buffalo chicken wings. Not only did the stench fill the office, but he made it a point to ask me which way I thought the leg used to be attached to the chicken. He made it clear that he enjoyed every bit of it by saying every few minutes, "Oh, this is so good. Are you sure you don't want some?"


And that concluded my day. Needless to say, I was ready to go home and make a nice vegetarian meal.

We get things done for America.

Let me take you to my last semester at Endicott College:

A cold February evening, probably procrastinating working on my thesis, I found myself talking with one of my closest friends, Lindsey, on iChat. The context of our conversation centered on spring break. A few months prior Lindsey committed to going on the Alternative Spring Break (ASB) trip to New Orleans. As we began talking, I expressed my excitement for her, and frankly, how I wish I applied. With no concrete plans for my last spring break, suddenly, an opportunity presented itself. Lindsey revealed that two individuals dropped out of the trip and if I got in touch with the trip advisors, I  could potentially join. Two days later, I found myself sending letters to family and friends asking for donations in support of ASB. My first experience on ASB changed my perspective on volunteering, family, and faith, and I knew this trip would bring new revelations -- especially at a time when graduation loomed in the near future.

(Me and Lindsey)

For nearly four years, I struggled with individuals who suggested new graduate nurses work two years on a medical-surgical floor. That's certainly not how I wanted to start off my nursing career, nor how I envisioned myself as a nurse. So when I expressed my interest in following a rather unconventional route, aka AmeriCorps, you can imagine the reaction. But by the time senior year rolled around, those who knew me well enough recognized I'd follow whatever path I felt fit me. Yet at the same time, I masked the inner debate I constantly had with myself of whether I focus on nursing or my passion for service. And when I stepped off the plane in New Orleans, despite my contentment, my mind raced over the thought of the future.

You see, I feel best when I volunteer and help others. That's mostly why I became a nurse. But as I progressed through nursing school, I realized the quintessential nursing role wasn't where I would find that fulfillment I envisioned. My concerns grew greater and I frequently thought, is this profession really what's right for me? By the time March and ASB rolled around, the subject of applying for jobs and preparing for the NCLEX came up in nearly every conversation with professors, peers, and family. So inevitably, the height of my anxiety regarding the future was at its climax while in New Orleans. Yet I never imagined that one volunteer trip and one woman could solidify my years of indecision into a clear, concise plan so quickly.

I'll admit, I'm not the troublemaker (shocking news, I know...). Predictably, I never had to encounter the Associate Dean of Students during my time at Endicott. Well, until I decided to go on ASB. Much to my delight, Brandi (the gal who possesses the previously mentioned, kind of seriously intense title), was just the 'trip leader turned mentor', I needed. In between painting, moving ladders, and scraping paint, we talked at great length about my 'life dilemma.' As an AmeriCorps alumna, she shared stories from her term of service at Citizens School and how positive AmeriCorps impacted her career. Before I knew it, I found myself back in Beverly and in Brandi's office, filling out applications for AmeriCorps positions across the country. Brandi encouraged me to follow my passion, so I did.

                          (Brandi and me)      

Now let me bring you to the present:

Seven months ago I received a phone call that completely changed the direction of my life. After months of applying myself to various AmeriCorps positions across the country, I finally heard the words, "We would like to offer you the position." At last my grandiose ideas of 'saving the world' were becoming more of a reality. Within 4 weeks I found myself in a town the size of my high school and a state I never visited before. However, in double the amount of time it took for Michele to call me from my interview to offering me the position (Roughly 18 hours, but who's counting?) I already knew I made the right decision. Immediately I began meeting with various hospital administrators and staff to find out how we were going to create a healthier community through the Health Home initiative. My role as the AmeriCorps Rural Health Promoter has shaped me into a stronger person and unique nurse and provided me with opportunity I never would have experienced as a med-surge nurse. Every day, the work we do impacts the patients of the Pomeroy Medical Clinic and I know this work will only grow greater. The impact myself and the 75,000 other AmeriCorps members across this nation have on communities as small as Pomeroy and large as NYC makes the United States a better place to live. We give children an opportunity to succeed in school, build homes for those devastated by natural disasters, and assist the unemployed with finding jobs... just to name a few. We give of our time with an unselfish and nonjudgmental attitude. We fulfill the ideals our country was founded on everyday by helping others. AmeriCorps works to making our country a better place to live for all. We focus on 'our backyard,' but realize how we can impact the world through our actions.

Why am I sharing this story with you?

On February 19th, congress proposed the complete elimination of the National Corporation for Community Service, the umbrella over which AmeriCorps falls under. AmeriCorps works. It changes the lives of not only those who members provide service to, but the individuals like myself who devote our time to serve others and live on less than minimum wage (about $5.00/hour... ish). Taking away AmeriCorps would effect our country in an extremely detrimental manner. We cannot allow dollar-driven politicians to cut AmeriCorps, the effect would devastate communities and individuals everywhere. 

Do your part:

Stand for AmeriCorps. Sign the petition. Call your state representatives. Tell them that AmeriCorps works and we value volunteerism. Educate yourself. Stay alert to what's going on in Washington D.C.

Save AmeriCorps Petition

As JFK said, "Don't ask what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." AmeriCorps members takes this concept to heart every single day. So, what will you do for your country? 

"Look, there's Walmart!" "Really Dad, we didn't see that HUGE sign"

A statement you've heard more than once throughout my blog posts, "life has been hectic." And the past few weeks have certainly been just that. After making a lot of changes and big decisions, this weekend provided an opportunity to get out of town and visit with family. Bringing back memories of our journey west, Jay and I reunited in my trusty Volvo, but this time we had an extra passenger -- Dad. Arriving on Wednesday, they experienced game night and Quelf, a rather unique game which can initiate anyone into a group of people by embarassment. My first time playing came a few weeks after I arrived in Pomeroy. In short, I had to sing a love song on one knee to Lisa. Anyways, Friday we left Pomeroy, but not without my Dad noticing how I've certainly settled into town and I no longer get those funny looks, nonverbally saying, "who's that girl?". He caught onto my hand waving to passerbys and our trip to get vegetable oil at Pomeroy Foods took longer than necessary due to stopping for conversation with a few familiar faces. Finally, though, we made it north to spend the weekend in Coeur d'Alene. We arrived yesterday, took care of some business in Spokane (oil change...) and on the way east towards CdA, stopped at the ginormous Cabela's, a compromise with my brother so I could stop at the Gap. Wow. As you enter the store, you're immediately overwhelmed, and greeted by the firearms check-in station -- only at Cabela's! For this gal, I've never been a place with so many taxidermed animals (if thats how you phrase it...) and guns. Walls and racks of guns. Aisles and aisles of shelves stocked with bullets caught me by surprise as I browsed around. On the other hand, Jay was in heaven. After what seemed like hours, we left and made the final trek to CdA and found a hotel. After checking-in, the three of our stomachs warned us we needed to eat or else. We found a restaurant called Crickets downtown which had live music. The band started off with James Taylor and we knew it was going to be good. For the first time, we all enjoyed a few beers, dinner, and talked for a hours. We called it a night and today spent the day snowshoeing at Schweister Mountain in Sandpoint. The views were spectacular. The snow covered mountains hugged the lakes and provided a backdrop worthy of admiration. Our trek didn't stray from dysfunctional, but at the end of the day we had a great time. As we walked to the car, we had a good laugh at a message someone scribed in the dirty back window of a Subaru, "I wish my girlfriend was this dirty." Slightly inappropriate, but you can't tell me a grin and chuckle snuck out. With Dad aching and the fresh air inducing a sleeping pill effect on our energy level, we ordered take-out from Greek Street and decided to call it an early night. Tomorrow brings a new day and more adventures, and hopefully, more updates on whats been going on in Pomeroy!