My Job...


After a long night of half sleeping and waking up in various states of paranoia thinking I overslept for my first day at my new job, I ventured into said first day relatively awake and ready for anything.

Actually, the day was pretty mellow. I feel like 7.5 hours went by somehow, and I don't really recall doing anything too fancy. I set up the computer. I recorded some professional sounding voicemail messages. I learned some passwords. I read some info online. I took some tutorials on procedures I promptly forgot afterward. I talked about life with some cool people. I learned that not only do I have two random aquaintances in the office, but I also met my upstairs neighbor for the first time while we were in the elevator at the office talking about commutes. That's right, she sleeps above me and I never met her until I started working at the company she works for. So odd.

So for all I know, I did nothing. But somehow some of this nothing will hopefully be retained in my little grey cells so I can apply it later when it becomes "something".

I had a lovely time after work, in the time labeled "Happy Hour," which was indeed happy. Dollar beers and Kobe Beef sliders equal happiness in my book. I put back a few with a coworker friend of mine and her fun boyfriend and his sidekicks. The boys and I even walked home in the lightly falling snow, since we live near each other, and I felt like I had three bodyguards compliments of my dear coworker friend. It was lovely. I was supported and protected all through my first day in a strange new place, in a strange new time in my life. What a blessing.

Now I am recovering from my lack of sleep, and the novelty of waking up early has already worn off, and so I am dreading tomorrow.

But not too much. It will still be exciting and fun to work with such nice people, and some even my age! (Thank God)

I am feeling like I made a good move this time. It is still early, but I usually know after a short time if I am going to enjoy an experience or not. It is sort of like an audition, or a first date. They say you know within the first minute whether it is good.

I will venture into the realm of "Eat those words," and say I know this will be good for me, no matter what comes from it.

If I eat words later, I think I will still come out on top from this one...

To My Guitar,


Just because you are cheap doesn't mean I should neglect you. I am sorry I haven't played you all week. We had a good thing going with the whole 3 times a week thing. Then this week I let it slide. I know it's no excuse, but I was really distracted this week, what with getting that job, selling my car, seeing my boyfriend and touching base with old friends...

I know, I know, now it will be awkward when we see each other in class for the first time tonight. I won't know how to be with you, I might poke you funny or mistreat you. We won't be in sync like we usually are. It may take a little time before we are both ready to connect. And for that I am sorry. I had complete control over the whole situation, you were stuck in a hard place the whole time--the corner of the living room, to be exact.

I hope we can get back together during class. I want to be with you, I do. I hope you will still take me (to Rockville when we rock tonight!).

Ok I'll see you in a little while...

Sincerely,
your proud owner,
L (ROCK) R

I find as I get older, I have a harder time knowing what to say to friends when they are opening up to me about their relationship or emotional break down woes. I used to feel like I wasn't sure what to say, but then I would say something, and that somehow turned magically into something insightful. Nowadays, I still don't know what to say, but whatever I try to say doesn't magically transform into greatness, but instead falls with a thud on ears who probably don't want to hear it.

I think (and I hope I am right on this one, for the sake of all my friendships) that mostly as we get older, we just need someone who will listen and be kind while we hurt. It isn't always words we want. It's time. Give me a little of your time so I can talk out loud these feelings going on inside, and I will cherish you as a good person in my life. Give me your ear over the phone so I can feel connected to something while I go through all this, and I will feel just a little better than I did before I got a hold of you.

I can't always give the time, and that is hard. And so I think I get upset at myself for not knowing what to say within the short amount of time I have to be there for the person. Like I should be able to come up with some words of wisdom to make up for my lack of time to sit and help someone reflect and process a situation. I am much better when I can give the time. But when the pressure is on to be somewhere or do something and a friend is in need, I suck. Or at least feel like I do. So then comes me attempting to say something helpful. And then comes me blurting something meant to help that really sounds sorta lame. And then comes me feeling badly that I couldn't say more.

And then I feel like a bad friend.

I know that's not true. I am not a bad friend.

I am just a friend with limited time these days.

I will try to work on that.

This morning I had some extra time to lay down on the couch before work. It was one of those mornings when I was actually able to get up and get entirely ready, then opt to lay back down and close my eyes for a moment. I think I may have experienced a small reverie without really trying, which was weird.

I thought of my parents, how predictable their lives were, how they have been paying some of the same bills for over 20 years, how practical and careful they were with money. Then I thought of our family trips that were routine--Kayucos to be precise, and how we went every Fourth of July for at least 4 years...

I thought of being a child, then a preteen, and bringing my best friend each year. How we looked for hermit crabs and starfish in the endless stretch of tide pools near our condo. How we tried to get tan and burned our skin angry lobster red. I remember how content my mother was to pack our lunches and park herself on the beach all day while we avoided her like the plague and looked for cute boys our age.
I even remember late at night, hearing the waves crash as I tried to fall asleep in a scratchy old plaid sleeping bag near the sliding glass door of the rented living room.

It was in Kayucos that I realized what "queef" meant. It was in Kayucos that I created the scar that would stay in the area between my eyes to this day. It was in Kayucos that I tested the limits of my curfews and tiptoed around my parents to get away with what seemed like murder. It was where I found peace listening to the waves and staring at a family of hermit crabs for hours. It was where I found amazing treasures at a flea market. It was where I first played UNO with the big kids and felt accepted...sort of.

My vivid memories came to me easily and brought me a sense of myself. After the (second) alarm went off, I felt refreshed and went on with my day, never thinking twice about all I had re-lived that morning.

But now, as I wind down another day further into my unknown future, I can see that these moments of remembering happen less and less vividly, and I should cherish the times I am able to be transported back to my memories. I can't remember what happened two days ago. It is amazing I can recall all those details about Kayucos.

I only hope that this time in my life, this difficult time that is yet filled with awesome moments of growth and beauty, will be remembered just as vividly years down the line.

Getting a job is a blissful fright, isn't it?
When you don't have one, you are stuck at home, searching, and praying, and there isn't a whole lot you can do but just put yourself out there and keep hoping. Then when you go to job interviews, you are so desperate you say whatever it takes to get hired, because you are starving and scared and feel like you could do ANYTHING at this point- (yeah, I will be the best fish tank cleaner this side of the Mississippi). Then you end up finally getting one of said jobs, and it is all over. And maybe you got a position that is not what you really wanted but you decided you did in the whole process of hunting. And maybe it is the position that offers the most stability and in your jobless state, that was what was most appealing to you at the time.

But then the fear creeps in...

Am I qualified for this? Am I going to be able to handle this and still have a life outside work? Am I ready for this commitment? How am I going to fit in my hopes and dreams at night and not tell anyone at work? Or do I tell them? Will I ever get to have a day off? Can I prove to my new boss he made the right decision? Can I really pass the test they are making me take? Yikes.

Lots of those types of thoughts circle around the ole nogin. And all I can do is laugh at my worries and try to acknowledge them, then let them go. I will be fine. I can do this. I have a new job! I should be stoked. And I am. I am. I am going to be an assistant to an Insurance Representative. Every little girl's dream, right?

I will blow them away. And still find time to write. And take massage classes. And spend time with Adam. And see my friends. And play guitar.

I start next Monday and I am terrified yet hopeful. I am plunging into the corporate world head first. (Don't let me forget to plug my nose!)

Beside me is a window. Through this window, I am able to watch the swirls of snow-rain as they spin and tumble to the streets. This is snow so fine it looks almost like tiny misty raindrops. The only difference, really, is that this stuff is leaving its mark on the world as it falls--piling up in large expanses of pure white, covering cars, window sills, trees...a silent visitor to all.
As long as you get to watch it from the warmth of your home, and are not out in it, it is quite beautiful. Ok well sometimes when you are in it and bundled up properly, it can be beautiful then as well.

What fascinates me is the consistency with which it falls. Steady like rain.

There is a dog--a great big black poodle who has come to play in it. She barks at each snowflake like it is her enemy. She stops to marvel at the beauty, too. Then she lumbers up onto her master's chest, tossing up her big paws like two big slabs of meat ready for grilling. Her master releases her from her leash and the park is the dog's to conquer. She darts around with glee and creates the first foot prints in this new fallen snow spread. Her happiness is contagious and I find myself smiling.

Today is a day for doing things. This snow makes me question all I planned, as snow often does. How can I get out of that? Or this? Do I really NEED to go to the store today? But there is something very satisfying about having this initial desire to stay home and do nothing, but pushing through the idea and going out and tackling the day anyway. That is one thing about Chicagoans. They don't let anything stop them from the day, even with the ridiculous weather they got tossed their way. It's inspiring, really.

OK, here I go!

I am officially a good human being.
Not that there was doubt before, but I truly believe now it is obvious I am a good human being on this beautiful green earth.
I HAVE SOLD MY CAR.
You heard me.
I HAVE SOLD MY CAR.
I can't quite wrap my head around those words.
I HAVE SOLD MY CAR.
And it feels really good.

Last night, a man came and signed some things and I signed some things and he handed me money orders worth lots of money, and I watched him drive off into the night with my beloved. (car I mean)
It was very bittersweet but more sweet than bitter.
I am not contributing to Global Warming by way of automobile any longer!
I may still do a few things that cause our world to heat up a bit, but the big one-driving a car, is finito for me!
I feel a sense of relief. Some for myself, some for the earth.
Honestly, I drove the thing like once a week. And all it did was collect dust and freeze on the streets in the winter. Then it would whine (rightly so) when I finally tried to drive it a little.
So the thing is much better off in a happy suburb somewhere in Illinois, being driven by a newly 16 year old driver (his dad bought it for him, awww) than it has ever been while parked sadly on the street, only moving a few blocks to the gym or grocery store, if that.

And I am a few thousand dollars richer for about a day. Till it all goes into bills...

But I am helping the environment, and I have a great new sense of accomplishment. I set out to do this, and it only took a week or so of real work to make it happen. I love craigslist. and digital cameras. and Chicago. Sweet, public transit Chicago.
I haven't NOT had a car since the brief carless year in SF, circa 1998. What a treat this will be! No worrying about parking or street cleaning or city stickers or smog checks or tune ups or winterizing or insurance or flat tires or batteries dying in the cold or doors freezing shut or break-ins or CD players being stolen or rocks being thrown through windows for no reason...
Life is good. Life is simple. For now anyway...

I know it is just selling a car, but it is the first time I am doing it and man it feels good.

It is very early in the morning and I have a few extra minutes for once. I want to grab hold of something in my life. Something concrete, something true and real that allows me to trust it fully, no questions asked.

But right now I don't know if there is anything that fits that definition.

My family is far away. My life is about to go into a bit of flux again. My relationship is healing. My friends are all over the map, each of us trying to figure out who the fuck we really are. I am relatively calm about all this most days. Then there are those like this that shake me to the core and leave me feeling like a lost soul just bumping around in a slow pinball game. I still need meaning. I still need connection. I need strength. Always I need strength.

Ok. Work calls. Life calls.
What am I trying to say?
Nothing at all, when it all comes down to it.
Nothing at all.