I had to laugh at myself the other day when yet another book arrived for me in the mail… I may have a book addiction to go along with my already out of control plant/seed collecting addiction. Looking over the spines of my library, I had to admit that the titles say a lot about my life and when I added my newest bound friend to my precariously heavy shelf, I realized that the three books I am currently reading probably say the most.

Book Two:

Book Three:

They are all fantastic books so far and I recommend them all… especially if you are interested in:

1. Hearing about someones actual experience with transitioning to a simpler, homestead style life.
2. Understanding why we eat what we eat, how US meat is processed, and what it means for our lives.
3. Wondering how our the endearing author of Eat, Pray, Love is overcoming her negative experiences and doubts about the idea of marriage so that she can be with the one she loves.

Clearly, these are all things that I find interesting because I want to homestead, return to my vegetarian ways with a gluten/dairy free twist, and work through my own doubts about people’s ability to truly commit. Now if I can just find the time to read them all… I will be in business.

One of my friends recently referred to me as one of her “non-grown-up friends” which made me laugh and then of course sparked conversation. We started talking about what makes a person a grown-up according to society and how we both feel as though we do not fit into that category. As I steadily approach the ripe age of 30, I am constantly reminded of what I am “supposed” to be doing.. i.e. settling down, making big bucks working an office job, buying a house, getting a rock on my left hand, and making babies. Alas, I find myself far from that scenario… and I am okay with that (to the dismay of many).

It has take me long enough to recover from the socially isolating experience of trying to fit in during my high school years; it is hard to realize that you are most appealing when you just embrace yourself and stop caring so much about other people’s opinions. We are a society of people-pleasers … yet such behavior often leads to unhealthy compromise and self sacrifice. Trust me, I should know, I have spent years playing that role. Not to say that I will stop trying to make people happy but I will no longer do it at my expense.

Many people, especially ones significantly older than myself, are always telling to use my background to get a high paying corporate job or monopolize on the green movement. What they are missing is why I got into this field in the first place… and believe me, it was not for the money. When I chose my major my adviser STRONGLY advised against it because environmentalist were still considered “liberal, tree-hugging, granola eating hippies” at that point (and why is that a bad thing?). This is the pre-al gore time when professors were not allowed to voice their opinions much less teach us about global warming at. Needless to say, I went into the field because I am passionate about it. My goal is to make the greatest positive impact on the largest number of people possible by to shedding light onto the cracks that have formed in our society so that we can work together to fix them.

My passion for making this change far exceeds any desire to hop on the adult train. In fact, I think I am one of many individuals that are redefining what it means to be adult. My adult life means pursuing higher education, doing service work, traveling regularly, living a frugal lifestyle, volunteering in your free time, and saving my compromising for relationships. Most of my close friends live similar lifestyles and those that don’t at least understand and respect mine. Some high-school friends, co-workers, and strangers however have a harder time understanding where I am coming from. A selection of my favorite responses and comments:

Question 1: ” Do you have kids? ” (Of course the answer is no…)
Responses:
” You should have AT LEAST three by now girl, you getting old.” (incorrect english intended)
“Are you a lesbian?”
“Yeah, I guess your chest would be bigger if you did.” haha. That one still makes me laugh.

Question 2: “What do you do for a living” (I just received my masters and I am working two jobs)
Responses:
“A masters, that’s cute.”
“Why do women these days think think they need to be so well educated?”
“I guess your degree didn’t teach you to master the art of getting a full-time job.” This was from a friend, so its allowed.

Interestingly enough, a lot of my friends that are married with houses and kids are always telling me how lucky I am, how jealous they are, and why they should have taken more time to consider what it was they really wanted. The grass is always greener.
(See funny e-card to the left from someecards.com)

This is not to say that I don’t to eventually have/do some of the “normal” adult things, just that I want to do them my own terms at at my own pace. And really, lets be honest. I will never be normal. Where is the fun in that?

With only two posts up I have already been getting some feedback from friends and family, which is very encouraging. As someone that tries very hard to be positive and find the humor in any situation, publishing a blog about some of the darker parts of my life make me feel a little vulnerable and perhaps a bit like I have failed in some way. Yet after hitting the submit button I let go of a piece of my burden and it is very freeing (and apparently comforting to some of you out there facing the same challenges).

While I have been able to deal with the tide of bad events that often comes to shore, I have found that the challenges have started to create a flood that has consumed the horizon. As a very goal oriented person, not knowing what is “coming next” makes me feel like I am losing control, which in turn totally freaks me out. So, maybe I am a little bit of a control freak… but aren’t we all? For so many people out there, knowing what they want to do is the problem. I have NEVER had that problem. I have at some point wanted to be a: vet, inventor, scientist, sailor, athlete, marine biologist, artist, actor, writer, politician, activist, professor, reporter/journalist, executive director, farmer, professional tree house builder, entrepreneur, dog trainer, researcher, and photographer. Considering I starting “working” long before legally able , I have actually held or experienced most of these positions. My issue is that my interests are so broad that focusing my energy has always been a challenge. I want to do it all. Did I mention that I am an overachiever? As my dear friend Cedric put in his comment to my blog: “Nikki, you have too many talents to boil them down into a “job”.”

The point I am at now is figuring out which path I should take and then figuring out how the hell I plan on getting there… quite literally… since I still only have a bike. At this point I am trying to take my own advice (from the younger, less jaded me), which is found on my bedroom wall:

In the mean time, I will continue to make the best of my current jobs and try to save up some money in case I pull a Jerry McGuire, write a mission statement, and walk out with the office fish. 🙂

Three generations of Perley women helping me install a veggie/herb/flower garden at my Mother’s house in Ft. Lauderdale, FL during Christmas 2009.

When I was young I spent a lot of my time outdoors… Playing in the dirt, rerouting ant trails, catching tadpoles, building tree houses and laying in the rain. My parents quickly realized that a.) I was a tomboy and b.) I was a natural science geek. Most of my time was spent either working along side my father in his workshop or tagging along with my mom. When I was out in my mother’s garden, we would poke around in the flowers while she told me their names and explained why they chose to live where they did. I found myself at peace laying in our mossy backyard with the jack-in-pulpits, wild columbine, and azaleas. When visiting my grandmother in California, I would climb in the limbs of her avocado tree for hours, only coming down to pick lemons or watch with awe as she tended her bonsai.

I soon began taking part in the maintenance of the garden. At this point, my mother introduced me to her arch-rival, the slug. The seemingly innocent silvery trails of slime always dead ended into mass plant destruction. So what was our strategy for derailing these hungry critters? Well beer, of course. I found this to be hilarious and loved the idea of putting out little watering holes for these gooey little dudes so that they were too drunk to carry on. Yet, we were up against an army of uber slugs that saw through our guise. The next step…. salt. I had seen my mom making lines of it around some of the garden beds but before I could ask her why, my curiosity got the best of me. So there I was, blue Morton salt container in one hand, ginormous slug in the other, when I learned a harsh reality. If you have never seen what happens when these two are combined, you are better off not knowing. Needless to say, I was instantly overwhelmed with the guilt of having tortured this small creature as I desperately tried to wash him/her off. That was definitely the last time I ever tried that “trick”. This small childhood experience was one of many catalysts in my search to understand the delicate interaction between humans and the environment. Who knew one little slug could spark so much?

Flash forward two decades and I am still an avid environmentalist, extremely interested in political ecology, and following in my mother’s footsteps as a lover of gardening. Unfortunately I found myself working in a cubicle pushing paper (recycled of course) at one job and case managing clients in a tiny shared office at my other job. Click HERE for comic relief thanks to Daniel. Over the last year I have been trying to find the things that relax me, clear my mind, and help me reconnect with the natural world. The one place I am always returning to is my garden. I am constantly amazed at how small seeds can produce so much, how insects and birds can find the flowers I plant for them, and how one small patch of dirt can feed me for a growing season. There is a meditative quality to the dirt caked, sweaty planting, veggie picking, and caterpillar flicking sessions out in my self-produced oasis. Having spent so many years with my hands in the dirt, it is funny to me that it has take me 27 years to realize that it is one of my greatest passions. I have planted and tended all kinds of gardens big and small over the years, always a mix of flowers and food. My current idol is Will Allen with Growing Power. He has taken urban agriculture to a level that combines growing food with community empowerment using a truly sustainable business plan (in the triple bottom line sense).

Although I have no time or funding to get a Growing Power model started here, I am working with several fantastic friends to get a community garden going on a pretty sizable lot located not too far from my house. We have tons of interested volunteers, some potential funding sources, and lots of seeds (I already have enough organic heirloom seeds to feed my entire block and I cannot stop collecting more!) I also currently have my sights set on an apprenticeship opportunity in Charleston through Lowcountry Local First. Here are some details: http://lowcountrylocalfirst.org/programs/Growing_New_Farmers

As with seeds, only time will tell what will come of these ventures!

Well hello. As my first entry in this blog, I feel as though I owe any potential readers a little insight into my ramblings. Although I am a long time blogger, this is my first personal blog where I am going to let my hair down and tell you like it really is. Why now? Well… my life is not exactly unfolding as planned and the more I look around, I find that I am not alone. So this is a place for me to vent, laugh, and share the trials and tribulations of being a wandering soul… a young professional with no tangible profession. Hopefully you will pick up on my sarcasm and realize that most of this is supposed to be funny. Here it goes 🙂

The rejection letter.

First, I want to thank all of those organizations out there that send rejection letters because as much as they suck, they are a hell of a lot better than wondering if the mail truck got hijacked en route or your email is waiting to be deleted in some HR spam box.

That being said, rejection letters are a bitter pill to swallow. Whether disguised in a thin envelope or a message in your inbox, these bearers of bad news are thoroughly trained for all-out guerrilla warfare on your ego… they have hope-seeking missiles… seriously.

That is why when I get rejection letters, I chose to read through the BS and see the truth. Say what you will, but this is what I ACTUALLY read:

Dear Applicant,

Thank you for applying to this position that you are over qualified & most likely settling for. The selection process is very competitive because the economy is in the shitter and there are PhDs applying for entry level jobs (we have the pick of the litter… it is raining applicants) !! Unfortunately, you were not selected for an interview at this time or any other time for that matter so cut your losses and invest your hope in some other job you didn’t go to school for.

We wish you the best of luck in your never ending search for a job that is hiring someone with lots of experience, awards, degrees, and ambition. Next time try and make friends with someone in the organization so your resume will be put on top.

All the best,
One of dozens of organizations you have applied with.

I know, I know. Don’t get discouraged, etc, etc… blah blah blah. Its not like I have been applying for hundreds of jobs that I desperately want in dozens of states; I am casting a pretty small net and should not expect to a huge catch. I am pretty determined to stay in the Carolinas at this point because I love it here and there happens to be a pretty swell gentleman in Charleston whose company I would like to keep. It all comes down to which way I turn at this crossroads in my life… either way I go, there will be sacrifices made.

My glass is still half-full but I don’t just want half of it full… I want my glass to overflow. With something other than cranberry vodka. 😉