This site 2.0 or The Story of the Unemployed Girl Scout

While standing in my kitchen washing caning pints and looking over the makeshift cart-table island stacked with cases of new jars I realized today where this all started  - - Girl Scouts.

However, the 2.0 part really begins around five years ago when I lost my job in pop-radio sales and started an-anti-boredom tactic of an independent study I called “The 7 days project: How to change your entire life in 7 short days.” The whole idea was to fully immerse myself in a particular topic of positive life enrichment for a full week. For example “Spiritual Cleanse Week” consisted of learning about astrology, massage therapy, visiting a psychic, having my birth chart done, eating the "Jesus Diet," meditating, reading the Koran, chasing an elderly docent around the Jewish heritage museum, shopping at the Wicca shop, cleansing my house with sage smudging, fasting, chanting, yoga, scent therapy and bathing in frankincense and myrrh.
Subject View: Spiritual Readings 
(note: brown hair dyed when portraying anarchist Emma Goldman in the musical Ragtime) 

The other weeks completed included:

  • Martha Week: 7 days to domestic Dominance
  • Last Call Week: 7 days of making it to the wee hours of bar life ***
  • Anthony Bourdain Week: 7 days to badass Bouillon 
  • FashionWeek:  7 Days of Runway Stomp

Subject View: Clean eating meal from vegetarian week
(note: I grew that badass basil in a windowsill at me' ol' apt.)
During this time my friends and family thought I was crazy.  I was in total geek heaven. My more memorable moments included making a 7 Course French dinner out of the pages of Bourdain’s La Bernandin cookbook, the infamous "I can’t stop poo-ing" vegetarian week, the staged fashion shoot of my friends in the middle of downtown Cleveland, touring the Maltz museum with an elderly woman who lost her mother in the holocaust, and the pure insanity of trying to live the Martha Stewart perfection-driven lifestyle for an excruciating week.

My project was cut short with a university job offer.  The fun-employment came to a miraculous end and sadly, the book was never written.  And it took me until now to realize my adult girl scout badges continue to mount.  While working my dream job during the day my night hours are spent on crazy projects often involving my friends who often feed and encourage my weird curiosity while rolling their eyes.  Yup, crazy-town.

Canning salsa, cooking homemade chicken stock, paying $24 for $150 worth of groceries, gardening, directing a musical, sewing, candle-making, composting, furniture makeovers, online shopping and countless other interests.

I recently realized that being a creative with OCD tendencies has led to living the life of an urban girl scout. All those years spent as a Brownie, Cadet and bitchin’ Senior Girl Scout left me with an obsessive curiosity for just about everything. For an early age, I was a generalist. Swimming, baton twirling, ballet, ice-skating, genetics, music, theater, saxophone lessons, marching band, roller-skating, camping, fort-building, reading, art, crafts and should I go on….?

Today, I began to pay some damn attention to that inside voice that drives me to ask way to many questions and stick my nose in a painting just because I can.  As a scout I was earning badges, as now as an adult I am cultivating skills, (Adults are so not fun….).  I now eat s’mores with nutella instead of cheap waxy chocolate (maybe we are WAY more fun…) and dammit, I can I still build a campfire with one match and a pinecone. 

With a renewed desire to write and snap more pictures I get back to clacking away at my MacBook and attempting to live the Girl Scout Law*.

To be continued….on my honor, I will try. 

*** The author feels it necessary to explain that this while this particular task was accomplished; this was at a particular period where she was slinging pints to locals at a cozy Irish Pub and working freelance design gigs.  Most nights she was the driver slurping down (un-spiked) Diet Cokes and later cursing about caffeine consumption and insomnia. However, she did have a very sordid evening that started outside of a certain punk joint during a summer rainstorm that let to a night that she only recalls to close friends over a glass of sangria and sweet-sweet-shame.


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