Soccer, Work, and Beetlejuice
October 16, 2019
This past work week I made a horrible mistake and agreed to every suggestion made to me about swapping or taking other shifts. As such, from last Wednesday until Monday, I ended up working every day and it. was. exhausting. Thankfully, I had accidentally agreed to over 40 hours which meant one of my days got slashed in half and I got to only go in for three hours on Friday. Still, though. Choices.
It made me think about the fact that, in my first job out of college, my schedule was a six day work week, my only day off being a Monday. How—how did I do it? Was I really that more robust at 22? I mean, I suppose I was but I certainly didn’t feel it. And not only did I work six days but my days were weirdly long. Although I would be at work for 11 hours, I only got paid for the hours I was actively teaching a class (this job was teaching English language preschool classes and after school English lessons in Tokyo.) So I’d come in for my 9 AM class which would typically go til 1, then I’d have a class from say 3-5, then two lessons at 5 and 7. So even though I was at work from 8:30 to 8 PM, I’d only get paid for 7 hours. I remember almost falling asleep in the hour playtime lull after lunch with my littles all the time. Once, I was sat there, only half awake, as a tiny 3 year old girl named Haruhi who adored me played with blocks next to me. After a pause, she looked at me and said (in Japanese, I wasn’t that good a teacher), “Molly-sensei, you’re right here but you’re so far away.” Very deep for a 3 year old and very telling of my mental state.
(Actual photo of us on her last day before her family moved to Hiroshima. When she tried to smile, she looked terrified. It was too cute. Also, dear God, she’s 12 now.)
Looking back, there were so many things that were probably illegal about that job and my boss was a whole other story (he’s the reason I realized I needed anxiety medication; I still have nightmares I have to go back and work for him again) but the fact that I just … worked 12 hour days for 7 hours of pay 6 days a week baffles me in hindsight. I was young, naive, and in a foreign country without a ton of friends. I just took what I got. I’m still not great at standing up for myself when it comes to work shifts and such but at least I’m better than I was. Poor, sweet, tired young!Molly.
Last Saturday, I went to my very first Portland Thorns game, our local women’s soccer team. I’ve been a fan of football since I lived in the UK and started watching games with a friend of mine (also the reason I switch between calling it soccer and football) but hadn’t ever been to an actual game since I stopped playing in fifth grade because I was goalkeeper and some of those saves were beginning to properly knock the wind out of me. What can I say? I am soft and was starting to realize I didn’t like throwing myself in front of projectiles.
Either way, I still enjoy the sport so when a friend suggested at short story book club that we go one night, I was totally in. General admission tickets were only $16 and parking a few blocks away (if you went in after 5 PM which, getting off work at 6, was easy) was $5 so it was actually pretty affordable. There were a lot of people there but the park was optimized so it never actually felt crowded. I got through the entry gates in 5 minutes (although they did make me throw away my water bottle) and got up to some pretty good seats within 10 minutes altogether. The stadium was pretty packed but it was still comfy, there was covering over the seats and there really wasn’t a bad spot in the place.
There were so many little girls! There were little ones everywhere, wearing jerseys, wearing scarves, totally into it. We had a whole 8 year old Thorns girl gang sat next to us. I love, love, love that there is an active women’s sports team with affordable tickets and a very vocal and proud group of supporters in town. The Timbers Army, which I had heard of, was just as much in force for the Thorns (I think this branch is called the Rose City Riveters?) and at one point they just chanted “E-QUAL PAY! E-QUAL PAY!” and I was in love.
The only downside of the game was that we were sat in front of a man who was either on a first date, giving a woman a job interview, or just was .. very confused. He had a lot to say and he was very much the authority of anything that came out of his mouth in his mind. Nothing like going to a women’s football match and having to overhear a guy mansplaining to the woman behind us, an unfortunate reminder of life outside. Especially as, thirty minutes later walking back to the car, we overheard two women going “It’s not an opinion! It’s a fact!” and we were like “????” and then overheard a different guy start explaining, you know, gender and trans issues (wrongly and offensively) and it was … just a lot. Men, why you gotta ruin things?
My obsession this week is the soundtrack to the new Beetlejuice Musical. I’d heard two of the songs previously and they kept getting stuck in my head despite having only heard them a few times so I went ahead and got the album to check it out last week. …And that’s all I’ve listened to for the past five days or so.
The album is delightful. Alex Brightman, who plays Beetlejuice, has such charisma and presence, even just on the album, that you’re charmed throughout. Each character is strangely adorable, I genuinely have a soft spot for every single one of them, and the whole thing is incredibly funny. Even though I know what’s coming by now, I’m always touched at the end. I think it might be my favorite show in a good long while.
Also, Dead Mom is a bop.
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