how does this economy function, paying people to surf the internet all day?
i don't understand.
another day, another receptionist desk. i'm at a cool organization, the Wendt Center for Loss and Healing... Started by an Episcopal minister, he was one of the first people to talk openly about death. His center is small, and full of compassionate women. Huzzah! I, however, will be catching up on my reading of "Gould's Book of Fish"
this year. is haunting me. if you'd have talked to me three weeks ago, i was on the edge of resigning myself to a life of teaching, in such desperate want of a solid financial future. but i was talking to Dereck the other day, and tables turned.... in the last six months, he has made some extraordinary changes in his life, and, in some capacity, he would like me to bear some of the credit. certainly, i've always told him what i thought, and i can remember a time, not too long ago, when i was fed up with excuses and simply told him(myself) to re-evaluate, change, adapt... DO something... with the onus of NTI ringing in my head, I encouraged to Risk. Fail. Risk Again. all the while thinking i ought be doing the same thing, but busying myself with the excuses to keep me from doing so.
in the last few months, i have grown tired of my excuses. yes, i've grown tired of living a life from hand to mouth, being unsure of when i'll next make rent, of letting down my parents, of letting down my artistic ideals and mentors, and ultimately of failing to live up to my high expectations. but in the face of money, my energy and spirit being squished like so much cream cheese in the glorious avocado/creamcheese/sprouts sandwich that is this life.
so, back to talking with dereck. as i wept, he said: challenge yourself. reinvent. renew. revise. perhaps this year has been a failure. but it is only one year.
i believe those words echo in my mind as mine do in his. and reading his blog today, he says that he also, as he was speaking to me, found himself wanting to live up to his own instructions.
our lives play in patterns, my friends, and when we see them for what they are, we find beauty.
i wrote this yesterday:
too many months of waited-forbosses and
easy gone losses
i'm tired of sticking close in the back
while my mind tracks
forward
somehow going ahead, improving the kind
of life i find myself having
what is it(contact) that keeps me(contact) alive
contact
so much more than one word or one dance
strength supple and sweet, my starfishlimbs
in all directions of the world
i am certain this metaphor is as close as i'll get
this year was about learning how to fail
to learn to be at the bottom of the league
and yet not let a simplesum of sixmonths
determine a lifelong fate
when i being to take fate into my womanchildhands
to work in the trenches for life in the trees
to seethe on the ground while i go searching for
beauty
and truth
and all the masterful pieces of
newlife
that I owe to my ancestors and children,
relations and mistresses
so today, i must search a little harder
"challenge yourself" he said
the only thought that rings through my head
the only thought that my limbs have refused to bear, already
fatigued under the weight of this daily movement.
until now.
am skipping a dance weekend to make some money (-1)
joining a gym (+1)
starting a project with a woman from my dance class (+1)
played more guitar last night (+1)
i feel i am moving again.
in the office today.
like yesterday (if you've been reading my caucus topic, this will be a repeat), I inhabit the cinder-block office of Dr. Goldstein, Chair of the Biochemistry Department at the Medical School at George Washington University. I was here 9:30am to 5 yesterday. They had called Sparks because they wanted someone to answer phones and take dictation. Here is yesterday's work total:
Phone calls answered: 4
Letters transcribed: 4
That was my day.
Its almost 11:00am now, let's look at today's tally:
Phone calls answered: 3
Letters transcribed: 1
Supervisor from yesterday: Not in today
Dr Goldstein: In a meeting
My life, though sedentary, is good.
I believe I am getting fat.
But really, how did people do desk jobs before the internet? I mean, what did they do?
I think the next months will be easier. I'm planning to temp until June, when I have my regular teaching job for the summer. Money, I think, will be more secure, but the work will be mind-numbing, I expect. It puts some things in perspective.
I was searching through the NTI webpage yesterday. Its still inspiring, through all the nostalgia and sadness, I still find myself wanting and able (if I'm gutsy and energetic enough) to return to those ideals of risk and failure, of courage and collapse. I see them lived every day in the people around me. They are of a great comfort, in that, they are a challenge that I don't believe I will ever betray.
I miss Dereck. It is one thing to want and to be without. But it is far too many to know, to have, to love and still to be without. Its an interesting trial, this life. Still trying to understand its messages. But I do know that every great love in this world needs a great story... Perhaps we'll write it down one day, shall we?
back.
from.
valentine's day.
so, really... um.. yeah.
so, it was a good weekend.
really. REALLY. good.
there was wine and baklava and candles and games of Settlers of Catan and lemurs (though no tapirs, unfortunately.) it was grand all 'round.
for more details, check out www.year-in-review.blogspot.com
speaking of which, Dereck my love, really, truly sorry about yer cold.
how about Lemur as my firstborn's name?
i am soon to be unemployed, but i'll have another position to start on March 8th that's garaunteed at least for the month. HUZZAH! its customer service, but worse has happened to me, trust me... so wish me luck.
i'll keep you posted on all the gory details...
suffice to say, I may very well be in the Chicago-land area come August...
no one, i repeat, NO ONE is allowed an I told you so.
except my father.
... till the boy arrives.
i'll be gone until monday.
love you guys.
have a GREAT valentine's day.
Pretend you're in my shoes.
Your job, which you enjoy, is ending in possibly as little as a week, no more than three. Your temp agency, which loves you and is on the lookout for a great position for you calls and says:
"Hey, we've got this cool office manager job with a lobbyist downtown. Swanky office, good pay, its a temp-to-hire, but we may be able to get her to take you for just the three months that you'll be here for.... Can you interview next week? Oh by the way, the lobbyists clients: Phillip-Morris, the Pharmaceuticals (not at 80's rock band, the big scary ones that won't release studies that show anti-depressant drugs are bad/useless for children) and Energy companies. So, what do you think?"
On the one hand, you are in dire need of money. Job you know how to do, would do well, and hell, its only for 3 months right (because you're off to teach art to 4th graders in June)?!
On the other hand, everything in my soul reviles the three interests I'd ultimately be serving.
HELP!
I'm hoping this woman says "No, I need someone we could hire," so I don't have to say no to this job. Is this crazy? stupid? righteous?
jesus, college was so much easier than this....
... will be here in two days.
*HUZZAH*
I. am sick.
*BOO*
But, I have the day off.
*HUZZAH*
Except for the meeting about the company going bankrupt.
*BOO*
However, and finally, I have a plethora of movies to choose for my enjoyment today.
*HUZZAH! HUZZAH! HUZZAH!*
Ha. Movies rawk.
Edict #3278:
Read Al Franken's "Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them."
Not only fastidiously researched, recockulously funny.
I did not go to work today.
The company I am working for is going bankrupt.
Its teachers are quitting because they haven't been paid in two months.
Its owner just lost his ex-wife, the co-owner.
My boss has a 6 month old baby.
We all need to sleep.
I just want this all to be over. I've never witnessed a breakdown like this. The owner had owned a million dollar penthouse in NYC. He has (had?) 13 locations in New York and DC. For something like 15 years he has built this life for himself. And in less than 5 months, its all fallen to pieces. And the teachers, devoted to their students and each other, are walking out in droves.
it is so, so sad. i am simply so sad for everyone. people who never thought they had to worry about their job are owed thousands of dollars by this company.
and i am afraid i will have to be the next to go. it could be as soon as this afternoon.
oh how i just want to run home to chicago. to maine. to scotland. to anywhere but this sad mess that nobody can fix, as its all broken up. and once again, i find myself picking up the pieces and trying to make the ends meet for another few months.
hmmmm... 6 more days. i can hold out till then. after that... who knows?
you know.
you figure, your roommate, she would be someone who helps you grow as a person, right? you support one another and foster their personhood, right?
well, this is true, of laura and i, to an extent....
we are, in fact, enablers for one another.
take last night.
she comes home, i'm curled up on the couch doubled over by cramps, and she says:
"Megan, I was bad."
"What do you mean, Laura?"
"Look what I did."
She proceeds to pull out a full-size bag of original Doritos.
I think, "Right, no problem. All it takes is a little willpower."
Ten minutes later, I'm reading the editorials in the Sunday Post, Laura is still working on the front page section, and we gaze into an empty bag of Doritos. Gone. 15 minutes tops. Half of my calories for the day.
I am a disgusting human being.
On the other hand, had my spots at looked at today. The dermatologist peered at my back and said, "What a strange rash you've got there!" (Which is what I've been saying for three months) and says "Let me go get Dr. Lockshin (Her name was Dr. Hash, I believe, I kid you not)" and suddenly there are two dermatologists peering down at my strange spots without a clue.
Who are these people?
So, after a quick numbing, a short biopsy, and my first stitches EVER I was on my way. I'll hear something in a week or so. What is this life?
Cleaning the house today. Yes. Yes. Clean, clean. we like. then we play guitarra to annoy upstairs neighbors who's last nights djing included shitty electronica dance which rapidly changed into the original of "Downtown." Do you understand why I sometimes feel as though I might kick somebody in the shins?
Oh god, its starting again... I must clean. talk to you all soon :)
p.s. This entry has been an attempt at copying Lani Grayson's caucus technique; not always fascinating events happening, but she somehow always makes them funny and entertaining. oh god, i have to go, there is some sort of deep bass pumping coming from upstairs... must counteract.... electronica... with...bagpipes!!
please read the newspaper.
tell your friends.
too many run-ins with myself as an uninformed american. and sadly, i'm not alone. feeling discouraged by our country, folks... i mean, where we've gotten ourselves to. how do we get to a point where the poorer stop getting poorer while the richer keep getting richer? and still be the crazy-capitalist nation that we are?
ach.
i miss you. i miss christopher. i miss dancing with you all. i miss my mommy and seeing her silly face when i make her cry. i miss paradise with jen and bear and ernie and the never-ending fullness that was that house. i miss barker and all the shit he used to give me.
i miss you. dereck. light of stars over the corn-crib. i can see us watching them.
i am reminded of you all in the people i meet. the arch of a nose, the curve of a jaw, the quickness of wit, or the monkeyish movement i might see. an inflection. a wink from you all in places lost to the past.
"Don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way...."