someone

I have this sticker on my computer that says "write everyday."

I thought by having it on my computer, it would motivate me to do so.

It actually does the exact opposite. I look at the sticker and think "what a good idea," but then when I don't do it I feel somewhat like a loser or a failure, or just plain lazy. Instead of feeling motivated I feel tired from all of my negative self talk and opt for a nap instead.

I'm pretty sure I would feel really good about myself if I had a sticker above my bed that said "nap everyday." I would definitely feel well accomplished.

As much as I really do love writing, it's hard to find time for it. That and the fact that it's hard to get past the thought that anyone would want to read what I have to say. I saw a tee shirt once that said "your blog sucks" and I may have taken it personally... even though this kid had no idea who I was or that I even had a blog.

Women.

I put the "me" in women. I used to think I was different and so not the emotional type. That was until I got older and realized that there really is something about the way women are wired that just makes us crazy.

That's another topic I would love to discuss sometime, but for now I just want to get to the point.

Someone challenged me to write on my blog everyday, even if it's just a sentence or two, to at least get me in the habit of writing, and they also would take on that challenge.

Today is day one and I find myself without much to say, but up to the challenge. So here I write, mostly about nothing, but excited and slightly nervous to see what will come of this.

Thank you, dear someone, for encouraging me to write and taking part in this challenge with me.

This has long been one of my favorite quotes, but I have yet to live it out. I hope this inspires us both...



“Write everyday. Line by line, page by page, hour by hour. Do this despite fear. For above all else, beyond imagination and skill, what the world asks of you is courage. Courage to risk rejection, ridicule and failure. As you follow the quest for stories told with meaning and beauty, study thoughtfully, but write boldly. Then, like the hero of the fable, your dance will dazzle the world.”

–Robert Mckee

circling

I woke up feeling quite refreshed today. I was tempted to sleep a little bit longer until I felt my heart sink down to my stomach as I realized I forgot to move my car last night from the tow zone it was parked in.

Hear me out, responsible loved ones who want me to make wise choices... it wasn't a tow zone when I parked there. It became a tow zone the following morning at 7:00am when the high school I live across from takes up ownership of that whole side of the street until at least 4:30pm.

"Maybe by some shear miracle they didn't tow me," I optimistically thought to myself. As I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys I thought about it more... "yea right, the city of Chicago not make money off of me... hah!"

With a city in as deep of debt as Chicago, the people who work for the city become like vultures, scouting the streets for their next victim. I know this to be true since this is my 3rd time being towed since moving to the city last November. I won't mention the number of parking tickets.

People always ask, "how do you like Chicago?" I always answer the same, "other than parking and the weather, I love it."

Sure enough, I get to the street and my car is gone. Man, I love that feeling first thing in the morning! It just sets the pace for the whole day. I was so excited to figure out where it was towed to, how much it was going to cost, and how I was going to get there before going to work this afternoon. So many mysteries lay ahead of me.

The funny thing is, I'm being half serious. Someone once told me that life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it. So in an attempt to change my attitude, I decided to play a little game... "who's got JJ's car?"

As it turns out, the city owns this place called "lower hell" on Lower Wacker Drive where it takes all of it's victims. Part of what is so hellish about this place is that it's impossible to find. Even if you get to Lower Wacker and see a bunch of parked cars, you can't figure out how to get to where those parked cars are. It's like circling a giant snow globe and so desperately wanting to get in while knowing that it's impossible.

So, the first attempt happened before work today. My roommate took me to the address I was given and sure enough, we can't find it. Not only can we not find it, we are led to an exit on the highway instead of the parking lot of a towing company. We take the exit, seeing as it is our only option, and decide she will take me to work for now and I will try to figure out how to get it later. I keep hearing the guy's voice in my head, "You have until 12:01 tonight or the charge goes up $10."

It's now 8:15pm, and I still don't have my car. I got off of work, made a few phone calls and realized the reason most other people don't get towed is because they don't have cars. I'm tempted to leave it there, but I'm sure it could be used for something more enjoyable like a derby demolition.

I'm not too thrilled about the thought of taking the train and walking down Lower Wacker late at night, by myself, but I keep it in the back of my mind as a last resort.

And for now, I wait. I've left a few messages for people, scolding them for screening my phone call and then asking them to do me a favor. Hopefully they will feel touched by my sincerity and jump at the thought of taking me across town to lower hell.

I don't really have a point to this story, other than to say I agree with what that person told me... "life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it." Yea, it's frustrating to have to figure all of this out, but it's not a crisis and it's not out of my control. I have a slight headache, but for the most part I'm really not too worried about it, and it didn't ruin my day. Take that, city of Chicago, I hope you use my money wisely!

I guess it's also important for me to make one other point of this story for the sake of sounding responsible, since there are people who trust me with their children...

NEVER park in a tow zone... no matter how special you think you are.

singing with sam

I'm trying to fall asleep and ignore the fact that my favorite hoodie smells like burnt coffee, but it's too potent to ignore. I never should have worn that thing to work. I take it off and chuck it across my room hoping I won't smell it from over there.

I'm having trouble sleeping at night these days... or nights, I guess I should say. I find no trouble in falling asleep during the day, except for the fact that the day wasn't meant to be slept through... unless you're an owl, or perhaps a bear during the winter.

As odd as this may sound, I went to the bathroom the other day and thought about what it would be like to be a bear. Nothing about going to the bathroom particularly gave me this thought, just the mere act of sitting down (as girls do when they pee, let's clarify) made me wish I could fall asleep and not wake up until it's warm and sunny outside.

"I kinda wish I was a bear," I thought to myself. "I bet they don't struggle with seasonal affective disorder because they sleep through the most dark and depressing time of the year. I wish I could sleep through winter. Especially this winter. This has been a hard winter."

I flush my thoughts away along with tinkle town and I go on with my day.

But I keep coming back to this thought... "I wish I was a bear. I wish I could sleep through all of winter and then nobody would bother me about how I'm sleeping too much because I'd be a bear and it would be normal."

I sleep a lot. Mostly during the day. Some people say I'm stuck on a bad sleep cycle and I just need to break it. Some people suggest I should get my thyroids checked or be tested for anemia. And some people think I'm just lazy. The people I work with joke around and say I party too much which is why I'm always tired at work. I laugh it off because they and I both know it's not true, but sometimes I wish it was just for the mere fact that there would be a reason for why I am so tired all the time.

I keep hoping that when the season changes, something in me will change too. I don't even know what it is, I just know that something needs to change. I'm not who I was. And not in a cheesy Christian song written by Brandon Heath kind of way, or in a "I once was lost, but now am found" kind of way, but in a way that has brought me here to a place of almost hopelessness and begging "Lord, please, give me the joy of my salvation!"

"I've found you, but I'm still lost. I've been set free, yet I'm stuck again. I know you are good, but I've lost sight of your goodness. I don't feel you, see you, hear you, or know you anymore, but I know you are there. Where, God, where is the joy of my salvation?

But more importantly...

Where are you?"

I'm OK with asking these questions. The problem comes when it's my turn to listen for the answers. I don't listen. I sleep.

Sunday was the one year memorial of the death of a friend who took her life last March. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I slept. It's not the answer, but it's easier. And when going through a season of apathy, unfortunately I settle for whatever is the easiest.

I looked up the word apathy on dictionary.com and I found my name. OK, not really, but I found what best describes how I have felt about life for some time now...

Apathy:

1. absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement.

2. lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting
3. freedom from emotion of any kind.

Freedom? I used to beg for freedom... freedom from addictions, from bondage, from people pleasing, from abusive relationships, from self hatred, from anger, from depression, the list goes on...

I used to beg and plea for freedom and time and time again God has set me free, and yet instead of being thankful I find myself here... free from emotion of any kind.

Apathetic instead of thankful.

I don't want that kind of freedom... freedom from emotion. I want freedom from apathy, even if it means dealing with the hard stuff and squirming in the discomfort of facing it head on.

Something in me has to change, and I think it's bigger than the weather.

The time for excuses is almost over. I say almost because, let's be honest, freedom form apathy isn't that easy. Coming to the realization of the need for change is different than the actual process of making change happen (yes, who can, Mr. Obama?).

Change is not instant, and it's not easy. I still want to make excuses, and I'm frustrated at the thought of giving up those excuses... I still want whats easy, I won't lie about that.

But truth be told, as comfortable as my excuses make me, I'm not happy. I'm just comfortable. What a boring life! The absolute last thing I would ever want my obituary to read is "she led a comfortable life."

And with that thought, seeing as it's almost 3am, I realize it's time for me to get up, get off the couch,

and go to bed.

baboo

i love customers

Dear loyal, somewhat loyal, one time, and first time customers of Starbucks,

Let me preface by saying that this particular letter is directed to specific customers of Starbucks located in the Lincoln Park area of Chicago, and not necessarily every customer of every Starbucks location. Having said that, and having worked in numerous Starbucks locations in the city and in the suburbs, I am well aware of the fact that the issue, or shall I say... behavior, in which I am about to address does not solely pertain to the customers of the Lincoln Park area, but any customer who enters a store with the assumption that the people who wear aprons behind the counter aren't actually people and therefore deserve to be treated as less than.

Let me start of by introducing myself. My name is JJ Barrows and I have worked for Starbucks Coffee company for almost three years now. For my first two years I worked in a cafe/drive-thru store, and yes, I wore a headset.

Now, I realize that my green apron, or my battery pack hanging off the back of my pants, or my ability to steam your milk exactly the way you want it may not impress you, but don't assume that I am uneducated and incapable of human connection and conversation simply because I am on the other side of the counter.

First of all, it's called eye contact. I learned this at a fairly young age, but seeing as how my lovely state of South Carolina has been ranked 49th in the nation for education, what do I know? Now, I'm sure your phone call is important enough for you to walk up to the counter and tell the person behind the counter to hold on instead of the person you are talking to, but may I suggest the idea of not walking up to the counter if you are not ready to order. Second of all, when you do walk up to the counter, HANG UP THE PHONE!

As for people going through the drive-thru on their cell phones... in my opinion, there should be a law against it, and you should be arrested. If you would have actually been paying attention when you were ordering and listened to the person on the headset recite VERBATIM what you ordered while you were taking your important phone call, maybe you wouldn't have to insult the barista for making the wrong drink when really he or she made exactly what you ordered when you weren't paying attention. Also, could you wait for the voice over the intercom to finish what they are saying before you drive away? I realize you are interacting with someone working in a drive-thru, so it makes it a bit harder to show some respect, or even the bare minimum... being polite, but once again let me remind you, we are people too.

I know, I'll give you time to take this in. It's a lot.

Third of all, or fourth... I don't know, I can't keep count, I failed math. Just because the C.E.O. of the company decided to change the name of the size in which you order your drink does not mean that we have no clue what "small, medium, or large" is. Therefore I would appreciate it if you would keep your smart-alec remarks (that we've never heard before) to yourself and just order your drink. Don't worry, if you don't know how to read, we know how to translate.

I'm gonna go with fourth. Fourth of all... the pastry case. I understand that we are running a business, and cleanliness is as important as customer contact, I won't dispute that in America. But when you see one little fruit fly and make a fuss over how gross that is (because we've never heard that before), I would like to ask you to calm down, and visualize this...


Do I even need to add the fact that this child is smiling?

So here we are on this privileged continent of ours with, let's keep it at the minimum, access to food and clean water, and we're throw in shelter. And education. And shoes, and clothes, and a car, and a cell phone, cause who could survive without that? And a computer, and a camera, and an ipod, and a playstation. Not to mention the ability to shower, do laundry and have the choice of going out to eat or dining in.

And then there's a larger portion of the rest of the world without food or clean water. Without shoes or even a change of clean clothes. Without security. Without protection. Without hope. Surrounded by death and disease. And where orphans outnumber families.

One fruit fly. Are you kidding me?

So your foam isn't perfect. Are you serious?

So it cost four dollars for a cup of coffee? DON'T BUY IT!

I can not even begin to tell you how many customers come in and make a big deal out of the cost of their drink, or the thought of being charged for something extra. The funny thing is, in my almost three years of working at Starbucks, I have never once seen anyone twisting any one's arm to go into Starbucks and buy coffee. It has only been out of sheer choice. So next time you choose to spend your money on an expensive cup of coffee, or a latte, or a low fat raspberry muffin... don't complain to the person behind the counter who has nothing to do with the pricing in the first place and is only doing their job by charging you the price that is listed. Choose not to get it. Otherwise, suck it up, and leave us a monetary tip in the jars provided.

Fifth, the bathrooms. We have a saying in the south that goes like this... "if you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be sweet and wipe the seat." I understand it is a public restroom and the thought of sitting on said porcelain is grotesque, but ladies, if you happen to miss while you are hovering high above the germs, please be sweet and wipe the seat. As for the men... if you can't aim even with the seat up, don't bother coming in because you might as well relieve yourselves outside. At least then you would aim more carefully in fear of being caught.

In addition, try saying "thank you" when you walk into a public restroom that actually has a porcelain pee hole, especially when it's clean, because it could be worse...

(feel free to ask me about my time in Africa.)


While on the bathroom topic, I would like to address the young man in high school who came into our Starbucks a few weeks back and decided to be passive aggressive by peeing all over the floor in the men's room as a response to being asked to leave... don't worry, I, probably much like your mother, cleaned up after you. I also noticed that though your pee smelt like asparagus, it's bright yellow color indicated you are not drinking enough water and are in need of healthier eating habits. Oh and one more thing, please tell your middle and high school friends that they don't look cool standing outside of the store smoking and swearing. I myself went through a phase in high school where I thought to be cool meant you had to smoke, but now that I have seen all of you doing it, I realize how absolutely ridiculous I looked and laugh at the very thought of it. End lecture.

Trust me, I could go on. I could make a movie with all the crazy stories I have from working at Starbucks, but I'll save that for later. I would rather you take some time to allow all that has been said to sink in, and maybe think about your next interaction with anyone other than the people that matter only to you. The person in the drive-thru, the person ringing up your groceries, the gas station attendant, the construction worker you almost side swiped the other day... these are all people who are worthy of eye contact and a simple hello. Maybe even go way out of your way and ask how they are, but I don't wanna push it.

If you have actually taken the time to read this far, I would like to thank you for your time as I know it is of the essence. I would also like to apologize for my attitude towards you because although I stand firm in trying to make a point, I realize that you are people too with hurts like the rest of us. Everyone we come across is fighting in some kind of a battle, and my desire is to desire to fight with you, not against you.

Sincerely, but under construction,
Your Starbucks barista and bathroom cleaning lady, who is also a college graduate, grad school student, daughter, sister, proud aunt, friend, best friend, and girlfriend (of someone you should ask me about sometime),

JJ Barrows

again today

Feburary 5th, 2007.

Only two days prior to that date the Chicago Bears were in the Superbowl. I'm sure lots of people, especially Chicagoans, remember that day, but I don't. I remember two days later... Feburary 5th, 2007.

The day before the Superbowl I arrived in Chicago for the first time on what seemed to be the coldest weekend recorded in Chicago history. I was arriving from South Carolina. I never realized how warm 58 degrees was (the temperature the day I left home) until I arrived in Chicago... The coldest day I had ever experienced up to that point.

I remember the plane ride... the pilot would come over the intercom and say "DA BEARS!!!" and everyone on the plane, except myself, would yell back "DAAAAAA BEARS!" I was impressed by the team spirit, but I myself was in no mood to cheer.

I wasn't going to Chicago to see the bears play in the Superbowl that weekend. Nope.

That Superbowl weekend, 2007, at 23 years old, I was heading to Chicago (as the few of you who read my blog know) to admit myself into a treatment center.

3 years ago, TODAY, I walked through the doors of a very unfamiliar place, knowing that my life was about to drastically change... should I survive the winter.

I don't want to go into detail, and I don't want to write a lot about it (read old entries), but 3 years ago, TODAY, my life drastically changed because my recovery began.





And even though 3 years have past, I'm still recovering, as I think I will be... until I reach perfection.

And I know I will, just not yet.

Honestly, there are some days more than others that I long for that day when I stand before my Father in Heaven as He holds my face, heals my wounds, and tells me how much He loves me.

It's one thing to know someone loves you. It's a completely different thing to hear them say they love you. I can't wait to hear His voice. To audibly hear the man I have given my life to say "I have always loved you."

3 years ago, TODAY, a man I gave up on continued to love me.

3 years later, TODAY, I have fallen in love with Him... again and again, and again.



I know that sounds cheesy to some, but since being in recovery, I am OK with cheese.

I have good days and bad (as I'm sure most of us do but don't necessarily vocalize) but the bad days make me grateful for the good ones. And today... today was a good one.

February 5th, 2007... 3 years to the day.

The journey has been long...

and it has been hard...

but it has been worth it.




To those of you who are hurting, please hear me say as honestly as I know how... the journey is long, and it is hard, sometimes so hard... but it is so incredibly worth it!

And so are you.

thermals

My tea from this morning is still in my cup. It's not just luke warm, it's cold from sitting all day in an apartment occupied by four girls trying to save money by not turning on the heat.

It's definitely winter in Chicago. I can tell without even leaving my apartment... which is exactly what i haven't done today... left my apartment. In fact, I'm still in my thermals that i slept in, with a hat on my head, and two pairs of socks. The red socks are only to support the holes in the green socks... together they make a great pair.

I've spent most of my day on the couch trying to figure out how not to waste my day... huh. I'm glad my efforts weren't wasted.

There are days that I wake up and the last thing I want to do is get out of bed. These are the days that I know are most important to choose to pull down the covers, set my feet on the ground, and regardless of what I feel like, get out of bed.

I set my feet on the ground today, but I didn't go very far with them.

I'm tempted to get down on myself and remain bummed for not seizing the carp today... but instead I'm going to take my medication and choose not to punish myself.

What will it look like for me to live my life today? Other than getting off this couch, I don't know. But hopefully, in some small, free, and legal way it will look like making someone else's day instead of worrying about myself.*

I'm glad it's never too late to start.



*note to therpist: not worrying about myself does not mean not taking care of myself... don't worry.