Thrift Shopping 101

No, this isn't going to be a difficult course, take note of the number, but please pay attention. Thrift shopping is a broke girls retail therapy. It's relatively cheap, mostly accessible and easy, if you follow some basic rules. So here goes:(in no particular order)

1. Go before you go. Most thrift stores don't have public restrooms, enough said?
2. If and whenever possible, leave children, of all ages, at home. There are way too many distractions for the younger ones and the older ones will just get bored. Most importantly, aren't they part of the reason you need therapy in the first place?
3. Follow the flow of traffic-do we need signs? You can accomplish this either way you choose. Starting at the opposite end, the end where there's not already a pack of people, is the one that works best for me-The search aka rack protocol
4. Have a strategy, what are you looking for? It might be best to head to that section first. Stopping in the middle of a packed aisle because something caught your eye causes a traffic jam and basically pisses people off.
5. Go early if you can. Cashiers are likely to be more friendly and plentiful at the beginning of the day than towards the end.
6. Remember where you are. There are no sales clerks to offer assistance nor to tell you if something looks good. Frankly, they might not know and definitely don't care-no commissions here.
7. Keep track of what you are spending. A no brainer right? Having to put something back at a thrift store? And it just adds to the stress you're trying to reduce to begin with.
8. Know the policies. Returns or exchanges-yes, there is a difference.

OK, there are other key points, like knowing whether or not there is a dressing room...if I can't find the size I usually don't buy. Dry clean only, stays right where it is, the cost of dry cleaning tends to be more than whatever it is you are buying, make sense?
With practice your therapy session should go smoothly, making everyone a bit calmer, and eliminating the need for a what's up piece!

Neighborhood Watch

Perhaps in this section of the urban jungle they should be called the Porch Patrol. All day, all night, every day. Sitting in front of their rented space, watching-what? No one says, then again no one has asked. Holding court? Maybe I don't really want to know. Thing is, as far as I can tell, no one works. This has become their employment-an obligation of sorts, keeping tabs on all the activity in the neighborhood. Nice concept, I guess. It just doesn't seem to be doing anything useful anyway.
This past weekend there was a string of car break ins, mine included. Punch out the lock, rummage through, grab whatever they thought might be worth something. So where were those gathered on the porch? Were they watching then, in the wee hours of morning? No. I had to make the discovery of the violation later, a hole where my driver side lock should have been. Contents of the glove compartment tossed about. Needless to say I was just a bit angry. After all I had just become the victim of a crime. And the police never even came out. All handled by phone. Something new, convenient? Who was suppose to catch these vandals? Pay for my new lock? Something-anything!
Calmer now, days later, they are still out there-holding court in their own private kingdom. Did I really expect them to notice who could have done this? Of course not, not really. At least they did know I hadn't been singled out. Something I guess.
So our neighborhood watch continues to do as they will always do, keeping watch and saying nothing of any real importance.
What's up?

In Too Deep

I've been at this for awhile, each day every day. One program, system, or site and where am I?
Too far...pages and pages of notes, passwords,user names...today is one of those days where I don't know which end is up.
OK, I do have a part time job...mostly. You would think with all that free time, I would have mastered this apparent elusive art. But no, I'm still out here, little fish, being lured into deeper waters each step.
So, what's a newbie to do? Right now, I think I'll just hang out near the shore and chill.

Processing

Going on two weeks and I am just now settling down, absorbing the impact of the news even as it's been blasted across the world 24/7. Am I slow? Maybe. No matter. I get it. Got it the moment regularly scheduled programming had been interrupted. I just struggled to get to the connection.
Where was I when I first heard the music? Their music. Who was I when this group of boys, who looked like us, first came across the radio? Grade school-an institution that doesn't even exist anymore, K-8Th education has been replaced...
There I was then plaid skirt, white blouse, hideous shoes. I remember it being toward the end of the school year, summer just breaking through...the end of a long day, waiting to be picked up or the last song of a dance. "I'll Be There" the signal a sign, to have some boys arm on your shoulder or around your waist. What this meant didn't matter, it was something to move you closer to some far off place called adolescence. High school was just months away it was certainly down hill from there, wasn't it?
I was put these images together, connected to all the others broadcast daily, yesterday-all morning, glued to CNN. Listening feeling the music, poke then pull its way out...finally able to connect to the madness the media had created. Rest in peace Michael.

Neighborhood Violence

OK we're headed into the 4Th of July weekend...yes, I am afraid. My block usually looks like a war zone the next day, smoke hanging in the air, litter, broken pieces of just about everything-but without the body count. This year, I'm not too sure.
With the battle lines already drawn, I have to figure out how to safely leave-staying in isn't an option. Oh, next door has added a new element to an already confused situation-dogs! Pit bulls in fact-oh goodie!
So far, this week at least, the police haven't been seen as frequently, I'm not sure if that's necessarily a good sign....
What's happening here in my little piece of the American dream is not unusual...decay and apathy are common occurrences in any urban setting-I don't live anywhere else-I live here, and for now, I'll have to stay.

Neighborhood violence-a continuation

When we last talked, I was giving a brief out line of a loud and wild weekend in my urban jungle. Family feuds territorial disputes...Middle east comes to the Midwest.
I live on an ordinary block, could be anywhere USA. It has gone through its evolution just like anywhere and every where else. There were home owners then, the real ones, not these flippers and flopper's. Buying a piece of property then moving on, not even bothering with up keep. No, when we first moved this was a real neighborhood. Families. Working, connecting trying to make progress. It was mixed. A buffet of ethnicities, languages, and cultures. A mix of old traditions and a new something that never really took off.
Our park, just a block away had real playground equipment, children ran climbed and swung. The echo of their happy laughter silenced now by drugs, and all the elements of crime that come with that enterprise.
Neighbors, people whose names you knew, faces you recognize-spoke. If it was only a casual civil greeting, real words. Not the screaming and cursing coming from these unknown faces.
Now, well, I suppose what has happened could be blamed on any number of social, political or economic ills...every theory right yet none of them offering a solution.
Perhaps there isn't one solution. A problem this layered can not be simply solved. It needs to first be examined-which could take a while, since no one here seems capable of conversation.

S.D.D.-Neighborhood violence

Just in case you haven't been paying attention-the title is "what's up?" Same question, different day... got it? For the next post or two, I'll be unwinding from a volatile weekend...
It's the beginning of summer. The real heat has yet to arrive for its usual visit from hades...so I ask again, what's up?
My block was particularly loud this past weekend. Flashing lights, slamming cursing rattling music, the works. Did I miss a memo? Was it Argue With Everyone Day? Something Hallmark must have missed.
Where do I start? Fine, at the end of this little piece of the American Dream, round one. Families against families? I'm not really sure of the main characters. At least one group has been here for as long as we have...Their brand of dysfunction often clashes with that of the family across the street-there are young children involved. This round usually just involves cursing and shouting-police showing up just occasionally. Let's move on or rather down, closer to my end where the real fun is!
There is another family unit, guardians of the block-maybe...no one quite understands their grip on this crumbling section of urban delight. Their battles seem to be mainly territorial, a twisted fairy tale, with all of them cast as the trolls just forgetting to ask the three questions...the rest of us daring to cross the bridge without the necessary permission.
Well, there are of course more rounds...you'll have to come back.