After a year and a half at my old apartment, I decided it was time for a move. I ventured a whole two blocks!! I love my neighborhood, and couldn't find any good reason to leave it.
Moving sucks. I solicited a few friends (koby and emily) to help carry books (i.e. I'll pick you up and bring you to the Y, if you run a backpack full of books with me to my new place). Another friend (jen) helped me load my moms car a half dozen times with bigger things (desk, turntables, boxes). And lastly, my "guys" (kevin and mike) helped move the couch. I'd consider it a "community" thing, that folks helped me move. Oh, and of course a big shout to my "other boys" (antonio and donald) for helping me clean!! I wouldn't have known where to start without you!
I got the keys to my new place October 15th. Unfortunately, it rained most of October, so I didn't get to move as much as I wanted (each day). It's now November 4th, and I'm all moved in. I haven't "unpacked" just yet, but it's on my "to-do" list.
I have a weird bed at the new place. It's a murphy bed, but rather than pulling down from the wall, it pulls out of the wall. It's cool, I guess, because then I never have to make my bed.... I just push it away. Jeez, I wish I could do that with other things in my life.... something is a mess (figuratively or literally) and I could just push it away and it's gone till I bring it back out again.
Anyhow, I was putting my new "bed" together, which meant putting on the electric mattress pad. If you live in the midwest and don't have one, I highly recommend it. I once dated a dude (kai) who slept on the porch of his house.... he said it was okay because he had a heated mattress pad. I refused (being the Indian Princess that I was) to sleep out there, but a few years later purchased my own mattress pad... it's amazing. You crank the heat 30 minutes before you get in bed, and it's like climbing into a womb. (....i could not, for the life of me think of a better analogy).
So as I was putting on my mattress pad the other day, I noticed a sticker. "Sewn by Juanita C". What?! For real? I felt sick. Maybe it's because my friend (sally) calls me Juantia 1-2-3? Nope. It's because "Jaunita C" is likely a part of foreign labor (and all the bad shit that you think it entails), which makes the concept a little more personal and a little more sad.
I'm not gonna lie. I wear clothes from the GAP. Most are from Jess or from the goodwill, but nonetheless, I know those close were made by some little honduran kid, or some underpaid Indian. I'd be willing to bet that a lot of my appliances are made under unfair labor practices. It would be hard buy/own things only made under humane and safe guidelines.
(I once had a coworker who said she didn't want to buy anything that wasn't made in America. Well, there goes the gas for your chevy, your clothes, your hair products, your wood floors, your coffee, your DIAMOND RING, etc....). It's damn near impossible to filter it all out, right?
I wonder why Jaunita C had to put her name on my mattress pad? Maybe she wanted to? Maybe no one else put their name on it, and she wanted to stand out from the crowd? Maybe her boss made her put her name on it. What happens if the blanket starts on fire, or worse... stops working in the middle of winter?! Do I call the company and ask to speak to Juanita C? I doubt it.
I have friends who are artists. When they paint or take pictures, they often add their signature to their work. Perhaps this is what Jaunita felt inclined to do? I'm not sure why, but for some reason, Jaunita C has been on my mind lately, making me look at what is right and what is wrong, and furthermore, what you can change and what you can't.