We are one, We are many, We are Just Call Me Frank. Candid, adjudicating, philosophy wielding, life journaling, mental health advocating, writing and art therapy enthusiasts, lovers of learning; adventurers with a finger on all the buttons. Writing to survive and thrive.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Another Day, Another Dollar; Fuck Our Life: Update
An update, because we want to make sure everyone is on the same page. Well as much as you can be.
Last night our "manager" went to the board of directors and presented our case, minus the mental disability information.
We are indebted to this young man for coming back to us this morning saying we get to keep the 32 hours. It will be interesting to see how it plays out because he says that they want us to work on performance; confusing since our performance review from last month was stellar, except for the "working with people" concerns, something we know we need to improve.
Anyway, come back later tonight. We've got a post we'll be editing later...about out first girlfriend.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Another Day, Another Dollar; Fuck Our Life
Don't mind us, we've been drinking with The Jeans...a brillliant distraction. The probem with distractions, of course, is at the end you still have to deal with what you are facing.
The only job we've been able to maintain, enjoy, and be accepted at, in over 11 years; since we were 18 years old; is in severe danger of being snatched from our firm grip.
It's hard to explain what is happening without giving away too much about our job, but fuck it.
We happen to work in a nonprofit run by privaleaged, middle class, white people who have no concept of what actually goes on behind the doors off this amazing organization of which they sit on the board of. Trust us, it is an amazing organization.
Our job, in short, is to manage food and social media; two vastly different areas of which we have some basic skill. We initallally were not hired for this, we were hired, as stated in previous posts, for one day a week as a program coordiantor of sorts. They realized quickly, in less than a year, that they could exploit our talents and use us in other facets, all while paying us a barely manageable living wage. Anybody from our Home following this has probably figured out who we are by now, just based on this confession.
This afternoon we were appraoched by our new...let's call him manager, though his job title is not that, exactly. We had a meeting about how the board precieved our work, as we are up for a living wage increase and review on a project list tasked to us a month and a half ago. Our work, which until about a month and a half ago, had been met with stellar review; they had started us off with eight hours a week and increased our hours from that, to full time, in less than a year all while altering our job duties accordingly. Our work has somehow became less than productive, even though 95% of it is at par since the beginning of this year. Work that we are not trained to do, but they are willing to make us do because we work for cheap. There is so much more involved with this situation, more than we can describe, and only the few employees that deal with the inner workings of our organization can even grasp the insanity of what they are trying to do to to us.
Today we were notified that somehow, while they are happy with our work on Twitter (not our personal account, they have no clue about that), the website, and the food department, they are not happy with out "output" on Facebook or the execution of the task list recently given to us. Somehow this perception has made them think they can reduce our hours from 32-40, to 8. Eight hours a week. Our "manger" is battling for 20...There is no way in conceivable hell that any of our work can be completed in 20 hours. We are talking the operation of food service AND social media.
This past three months we have been granted 8 hours of flex time in addition to the 32 hours of on-site time. Now granted, this extra eight hours, executed from home, has been hard for us to manage, as discussed in a previous posts. However, in those 8 hours they have added several "projects' to our list, in addition to what we were already trying to manage, making those 8 extra hours insufficient.
This in funny because they apparently had viewed us as being overworked in the first place. Something we also found out today. Their response had been to decease our hours. Which makes no sense in itself.
The biggest problem is we are the only one in the organization who knows how to do our two jobs. So decreasing the hours means we'd have to fit 32 hours of work into 8. Impossible. Fucking impossible. Like stuffing an elephant in a thimble; an analogy we used with our "manager" today that made him pause, and grin from his mental image of such a thing, while tears streamed down our face and we unleashed our trucker mouth.
We are also an adult with bills, and responsibilities; eight hours a week, even if we could complete our tasks in that time, which is impossible, is not sufficient to live on. We also cannot conceive a second job, given our numerous mental illnesses, and the FACT that we are lucky that we can maintain one.
This all seems so confusing, we are sure it does to you; and a couple of the employees we have discussed this with seem to be just as confused as us. So let's lay this out.
Facts:
Over a month ago they had told the new "manager" that they thought we had too much of a work load and desired to decrease our hours to 8...from what we gather on this, his response was to provide us more hours, the 8 of flex, to see if that would help. Which might have if they hadn't added the extra work.
We discussed with him the week following this increase, that we didn't feel that we were able to work from home. He is the only one who has not been privy to us, or our conditions; so he responded naturally, that it was too soon to go to the board and declare this, having just volleyed for our side and extra hours. We did not know the situation at hand; nor did he.
Fast forward to today, when he tells us that the board of directors wants to take the extra projects they had just given us off of our work load AND decrease our hours...to 8 a week. When prior to this we were running our programs on 32 hours a week, programs that we "inherited" from a previous "manager" and we're disorganized and faulty. Does this make senses to you?
How does it makes sense to take an employee who was doing a good job, give them an extra work load, increase their hours by 8 hours a week; only to turn around and make them keep the same work load they maintained prior to the additional load, but then decrease their hours to 8 a week.
We did not respond in a healthy adult manor to all this information. Why would we. Luckily The Jeans overheard the situation and came to our rescue and suggested "booze".
We may be an adult, but we are far from healthy. Given the "managers" statement:
"You seem to bring your personal problems to work, I can see it on your face"
How can we not bring our personal problems to work when WE ARE OUR PERSONAL PROBLEM. How does one leave mental illness at home?
So, the final employee, our top boss, our "manager", had to be made privy to our conditions. It was hard, we never wanted to tell him, if only because he is very young, younger than us, and we did not know if he would understand at all.
We can only hope, now armed with the information of our conditions, that our "manager" can fight our cause to at least maintain our 32 hours a week. We cannot imagine what will happen if he cannot do it.
None of this may make sense to you, especially if you are not a reader of us and our works. It may not make sense to you even if you are. That's not the point. We merely need to write and document our day. This post is not indicative of the rest of our writing.
The point is, there are so many things we can't even say. We can express how there is a disconnect in boards and non-profits and the work they do; how there is a disconnect in employee and employer relations sometimes due to stigma surrounding mental illness, making people afraid to be open about their limitations; how it's all bullshit, and while these hurtles may seem small to people without "issues", for people with them, it's just another thing that makes them, at the end of the day, as they are walking out the door, say:
"Have a nice evening; we're going home to convince our self it's not a good idea to jump off a fucking bridge"
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Erase This Poem: A Poem
We haven't written any poetry this time around, despite the fact that FNA, a couple months back, tasked us to read Emily Dickinson. We are sure this was something he thought would inspire us to write poetry again, or he was just trying to turn us into something we are not. He does tend to confuse us and make us think perhaps he doesn't like who we are.
Upon his neglect of our needs and desires, we let the partially read text, The Complete Works of Emily Dickinson, sleep next to us on our king sized bed. It still resides there, next to a mini dictionary, a pen, and sticky tabs; so we can mark and note the passages that we find interesting, that we'd like to explore and write about.
We jotted down a little ditty in bed one morning, while reading Emily, about a month or so back; but we've lost it. It was 140 characters that ended up as a Twitter 'status', and then vanished into nothingness. A concept not unfamiliar to us.
We felt inspired today, while cooking breakfast, and working on a blog review of a talented young writer we stumbled upon over a week ago. We were going to post that, the story/review about this bright star; but we decided to post a little prose that we wrote while eating our brunch, and thinking about our dear FNA.
We have not been lucky enough to see him, FNA, more than a few times since starting this blog, and coming out to the word as mentally ill. This blog, an attempt to help others who suffer from similar struggles, and to show the world what it's like to try to function, to stay afloat, when odds are stacked against people.
What are we to do? Nothing. There is nothing we can do, the decisions he makes are his own to live with. What we can do is write about him, paint him in various manners, write and dedicate poetry to him; and love him vicariously through The Jeans, until he too departs from us; and then hope that we find someone who can reciprocate the kind of love we have, finally.
Erase This Poem
Wrapped up and empty.
Pretension oozes from his pores;
He will not acknowledge his transparency.
What we see.
We want to cup his face
In our hands. Take his band of gold;
Like the ring of scotch on our night table.
Erase.
Stare into his eyes. Say we love him;
despite his pretension. We desire him,
his voice, his mouth, the need to tell him truths.
Just be.
The meanings will illude him;
Confused because he doesn't know
How to dance with our words. We tell him.
This is not a poem.
-----------------------------------
If you like poetry, we have archived works. The tabs are at the top of this page. We've been writing poetry to deal with the pain and confusion, the love and anger, in our life for nearly two decades; we are 31 years old.
Upon his neglect of our needs and desires, we let the partially read text, The Complete Works of Emily Dickinson, sleep next to us on our king sized bed. It still resides there, next to a mini dictionary, a pen, and sticky tabs; so we can mark and note the passages that we find interesting, that we'd like to explore and write about.
We jotted down a little ditty in bed one morning, while reading Emily, about a month or so back; but we've lost it. It was 140 characters that ended up as a Twitter 'status', and then vanished into nothingness. A concept not unfamiliar to us.
We felt inspired today, while cooking breakfast, and working on a blog review of a talented young writer we stumbled upon over a week ago. We were going to post that, the story/review about this bright star; but we decided to post a little prose that we wrote while eating our brunch, and thinking about our dear FNA.
We have not been lucky enough to see him, FNA, more than a few times since starting this blog, and coming out to the word as mentally ill. This blog, an attempt to help others who suffer from similar struggles, and to show the world what it's like to try to function, to stay afloat, when odds are stacked against people.
What are we to do? Nothing. There is nothing we can do, the decisions he makes are his own to live with. What we can do is write about him, paint him in various manners, write and dedicate poetry to him; and love him vicariously through The Jeans, until he too departs from us; and then hope that we find someone who can reciprocate the kind of love we have, finally.
------------------------------------
Erase This Poem
Wrapped up and empty.
Pretension oozes from his pores;
He will not acknowledge his transparency.
What we see.
We want to cup his face
In our hands. Take his band of gold;
Like the ring of scotch on our night table.
Erase.
Stare into his eyes. Say we love him;
despite his pretension. We desire him,
his voice, his mouth, the need to tell him truths.
Just be.
The meanings will illude him;
Confused because he doesn't know
How to dance with our words. We tell him.
This is not a poem.
-----------------------------------
If you like poetry, we have archived works. The tabs are at the top of this page. We've been writing poetry to deal with the pain and confusion, the love and anger, in our life for nearly two decades; we are 31 years old.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Growth and Change: An Artistic Standpoint
"Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is." ~ Willa Cather
Disclaimer: we are in NO way insinuating we are a great artist.
Please note: all links provided are internal links for reference/context purposes - we are not trying to sell anything.
Some days it's really hard to pull words out of our mind and organize them on paper, especially since it's beautiful outside. Spring is here! However; being who We are, we know that, for now, if we go outside by our self we will only want to come back in after about half an hour. We can go outside after we write. We happen to prefer a chaperon when outdoors with the "Fleshies", until we get some of our anger issues sorted out, lest we call a waitress a 'whore' across the dining room of an Italian restaurant, again...or steal someone’s soul with our laser eyes, or however it is one steals a soul.
Yeah, we're still stuck on souls. We're a little obsessed with the subject again, if only because it hurts when someone tells you mean things, like "you go out of your way to kill the soul of everyone who comes near you". While we might be able to handle something like that being said to us now, over a month later, the impeccable timing of Standby/The Villian's words turned out to be just an additional catalyst to the demise of The Other Girl. Her demise, the story of the night we disposed of her; by the way, will be written about; we just have other things to cover in the History of Us/Frank series before we get to the more recent events. Sometimes growth has to be slow.
Trying to come up with a topic that is not stories about the tragedies of our life, or our heartbreak, or our current mental health hurtles, can be a battle. We just know it’s important for us to write every day. Luckily sometimes we get inspired by The Jeans...if only because we think that, while he is a jackass, he is also an adorable jackass, and is, at the end of the day, an ass that perplexes us, and makes us think. We love to think.
We are working on our own growth, both personal and artistic, using art therapy, something we've attempted to do at more than one juncture. The Jeans doesn't seem to get the concept of growth in relation to art, which is a tragedy since he is attempting to write an art proposal; Or, he's just fucking with us - which, let's face it, he does on a regular basis. In any case he's inspired us to do a blog post about artistic growth, so we must thank him for his unnerving ability to inspire us. Asshole. <3
Perplexed that a man of such intelligence does not understand the concept of growth, and stated so so convincingly that we went on a tangent about trees, trying to grasp for an example and doing nothing but coming off as an idiot, because when we speak we’re a moron like that...and when time, and your audience is limited and impatient, you try to come up with a way to get your point across as quickly as possible, lest the topic change or they depart.
Growth is movement, development, and change, an expansion of your emotional and intellectual maturity. The goal of growth is all these. Artistic or otherwise, the point is expansion of what you understand about yourself, so that you can better understand the world around you.
“[All] growth should commence at birth and cease only at death” ~ Albert Einstein
We figure it makes sense that he doesn't understand growth from an artist standpoint since his most recent stance is "art is lie; writing is a lie" [paraphrased, of course]; which we, and others, think is bullshit. If one believes that art is a lie, purely a construct, then clearly one wouldn't understand growth in terms of art. We're not surprised then, by his inability to understand it. Even if he chose to alter the term, in the end, from artistic 'growth' into 'change' - it's still the same concept, just a different word for him to not understand.
We think the biggest lies are the words that come out of people’s mouths, most of the time. We feel the realm of artistic creation provides more truth. Art and writing are an expression of the thoughts, feelings and experiences inside a person’s head, and from their life. Unless, of course one is an artist simply for the sake of creating art; but even then, those things, those images and words that come out of them, are created from life experiences, thoughts and feelings...influences; and therefore are not a lie, or in the last, are the closest to the truth a person can get.
It is in the observationalists interpretations of those truths; that art, those words, is where lies can grow; but it also where their own truth can be discovered, if they let it. By the analytical process of exploring the reasons one agrees with, and/or thinks and feels a certain way when they look at art, or read literature, is where truth can be found. Self-actualized truth, if you will. Growth.
"Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom." ~ Aristotle
For example, why, when one looks at a painting of flames do they, more often than not, associate negative connotations? From a biblical standpoint of influence, one can stand back and imagine flames are associated with hell. If one looks at it from an evolutionary standpoint, flames can also be indicative of progress; creation of fire = human evolution, etc. Finding meaning in the creation of your own art is where artistic growth takes place. Discovering where your perception of the creation of art comes from can be part of personal growth. For an artist these two things go hand in hand. At least for us.
We are just throwing seeds out there, trying to grow flowers with metaphorical fertilizer. We don't necessarily believe that fire is a symbol of anything in particular, though we certainly use symbolism is our artwork and writing, and while it's personal: it’s also open to interpretation. To those who prefer to approach everything with objectivism, we can understand why these concepts can be confusing. This is not a story.
We know that everything we say, and write, and create, is contestable. We prefer dialectic forms of "debate" most of the time; if only because we understand people approach everything in life backed with their own experiences, or lack thereof. One can only incite change by open rhetoric and appreciation for people’s unique lives; unless they have no experience to back themselves. Honestly, most people have something they can work with.
"Experience without theory is blind, but theory without experience is mere intellectual play.” ~ Immanuel Kant
Knowing why you do something, why you paint something, why you write something, why you believe the things you do, is growth; applying those things to art, and using it as a medium to understand yourself is artistic growth. Using them to understand the world is maturity. In the end, it’s all growth.
"Don't take yourself too seriously. Growth comes through humility. Humility comes from wisdom, which comes with maturity."~ Bobbi Dunlop
Maybe the problem in trying to help The Jeans understand artistic growth is that he seems to approach most things in life with a modern philosophical viewpoint - he's great at rattling off names of great philosophers and prattling off memorized information spent from a lifetime of living in books; while we tend to approach life with a postmodern analytical view (if we had to label our self-we hate labels), though we have certainly spent our time living in books. It’s the collision of two different words, both of which the either has little notion of. Perhaps it is just the vast difference in upbringing and life experiences that causes the startling difference in the contradictory views of art, life and personal philosophies in juxtaposition of most people’s views, particularity The Jeans’. We are just dipping our toes into the pool. Testing the waters, if you will, using far too much experience with life as a floatation device to our future. This entry is simply a potential abstract for a future personal thesis; and to help an ass find the point of his project and help him along on his journey. We hope he finds the answer to his question, or at least finds his question. |
"Without continual growth and progress, such words as improvement, achievement, and success have no meaning.” ~ Benjamin Franklin
Note: Comments welcome, and greatly appreciated, as always.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Mental Health Night Off
We are actually taking this Friday night off from writing, and not because we're crying our eyes out for some reason or another; or having an anxiety attack or any other variety of attacks! Let's call it a mental health night off.
We have some more writing to do over the weekend, so there will be fresh stuff, as early as tomorrow; and painting to do too.
Tonight we will enjoy some scotch, what's left of our jelly beans, and hang out with our Twitter pals, until we Tweet so much we are #TweetBlocked, which happens all the time.
Here are some things for new readers, if you're the reading type; and if you haven't been around in awhile, some things to catch up on.
Confused about WHO we are or WHAT we are all about?
Relationships, Frank...and Love
Stress and Expediential Weight Loss
...there are literally countless things to read about here, some relevant, some not.
To read stories of our life; WHY we are:
Addressing The Issue of Frank: The Origins, History and Life Story of Frank, from "Just Call Me Frank: One Womans Endeavour At Being Frank" (also contains our artwork and photography)
Addressing The Issue of Frank: The Origins, History and Life Story of Frank, from "Just Call Me Frank: One Womans Endeavour At Being Frank" (also contains our artwork and photography)
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