It's Only Going to Get Better

2008 was a year of transition for me. The two or three years prior had been hellish, with my un- and under-employment difficulties, some health crises, and trying to take care of myself and my house while working 60+ hours a week. My social life had all but disappeared. I was finally able to return to my beloved pastime, swing dancing, once I finally quit the part-time job at Red Cross in April.
I love my job with the City Council, and I am finally feeling a sense of security. That is a good thing in these times of economic woes. It would be nice if the salary were higher, but I look forward to going to work each day, have a terrific boss and co-workers, and it's always interesting!
My social life has come to revolve around Fridays: Jitterbugs Night Out dancing at the Eagles Club. It was a very different crowd, many different faces from before. Apart from a little "issue" with recalcitrant leads, and my ensuing facebook "rant" which generated not only nearly 100 comments, but some positive results - it's been terrific. I can't begin to say enough about my new circle of friends; I've come to care about them all very much, whether they want me to, or not :) I never cease to be amazed at the unique personalities, the talent, the camaraderie and dedicated friendships I am discovering. You've made my life so much better. Jillian, Sarah, Ben, Becki, Ben, Eric, Jessica, Lee, Matt and Vivian, Mark, Merinda and Troy - you have made my life richer, and me a better person.
2008 also brought some stand-out "Top 10" *ever* days in my life. The Shakespeare on the Green that got cancelled but became a "lemonade" day - I had just lost my beloved cat Pogo just a few days before, and spending time with my friends that day was healing. You have no idea how much I needed to *not* go home and what it meant for me to be with you all. Sunday, September 14 after Lindy in the Park. The beginning of the legendary "Order of the Shovel" - what a fun day! Dancing, ice cream, playing cards and pool, food and spending time basking in the company of friends. I just don't think it can get any better than that. It wasn't so much, for me, as to *what* we did, as long as it was with the extraordinary friends I was with. My parties: the September BBQ with uncooperative weather, lemon drop martinis and Emmalee the infamous fountain statue. The Order of the Shovel/movie (that never got watched) night last weekend. My birthday jam in October; without doubt, the most leads (guys and girls :) that I have *ever* danced with at any given event, in the space of about 5 minutes. I was honored to feel so cared about!
2008 started a trend in my life; I can see a brighter future ahead, surrounded by wonderful friends and family. 2009 can only be better!

Throwing Up Walls

To be honest, this is not my favorite time of year. I really struggle to get through the holidays, even though I enjoy the traditions and spending time with friends and family. I explained to a friend recently that over time I've experienced several tragic emotional and physical experiences over the holiday season. My father died two years ago in mid-December. Even though we were estranged, it was difficult being the next of kin, making arrangements, and realizing that any chance of ever knowing him was lost forever. Quite a few of my large extended family have also passed away during the holiday season.
Ten years ago, the day after Christmas in 1998, I nearly lost my life in a catastrophic car accident. Critically injured, I spent New Year's Eve in ICU, months out of the workforce, and the following two years plus dealing with constant pain, illness, loss, recuperation (involving hundreds of medical appointments), a nasty lawsuit and trying to get my life back on track. Without doubt, the most difficult experience of my entire life. While I feel it made me a stronger person, it's left me with a sense of vulnerability that I have yet to overcome.
My way of dealing with emotional fragility seems to be "throwing up walls" to avoid being hurt. I often cover up how I'm really feeling about some one or some thing by hiding behind indifference. Or I try to avoid certain situations altogether.
I know this is self-defeating. I hate it because I know oftentimes it makes me seem cold and hard. The truth? I'm anything but that. I'm too soft-hearted for my own good, I run on my emotions, I feel passionately. I care too much. I internalize responses or reactions from people around me and if I'm feeling they don't "like" me, I take it personally and wonder how to make myself better.
I am lucky enough to have loving friends and family around me that understand and they keep me grounded, keep me from spinning out of control emotionally. One step at a time, and I will move on into a warmer, safer place where I can lower my defenses again.

Car Guts and Skeletons

The boss was kind enough to let us leave an hour early today, so I found myself with an extra hour of daylight. Not wanting to waste it, I decided to visit the U Pull It scrapyard. A friend advised me to go there to try to find some metal hubcaps for my car. I'm tired of the cheap plastic ones that crack or break every time I go through the car wash, or if any work is done on my tires. My car is getting old and I certainly don't want to spend too much money, but a hubcap-less car looks kind of pathetic, in my opinion.

So anyway, I'm still dressed in my work clothes and three-inch heels and I walk into the trailer/office of this place and wow, it was like the parting of the Red Sea when I came in! The place reeked of testosterone and sweat and grease....and conversation pretty much ceased. Suddenly I was the recipient of sideways glances and feigned indifference. I'd like to think it was my overwhelming beauty and presence (*smirk*), but I think it had more to do with my invasion of their man-cave inner sanctum.

It was nearing closing time and when I mentioned what I was looking for, the entry fee got waived (perhaps being a girl was helpful in achieving that little perk) and directed "out that door and to the left" to the import car corpses. It was about a two-block walk. I picked my way gingerly across crunching windshield glass and automobile flotsam and jetsam and stuff that, well, I didn't really want to recognize. It was kind of creepy, walking through the skeletons of car bodies, and guys stopping to stare - "what the heck is she doing here?!"

Suddenly one of those guys hurried up to me and asked what I was looking for. I explained and he started to help me look. Unfortunately there seemed to be very few older Nissan Sentras and the only set of four matching hubcabs we could locate not only were the wrong size, but they were off of an old 70's era Ford Fairlane or something. I think my little Sentra would blow a gasket if I dared deface it with American-made hubcabs. Blasphemy!

I found out later that overall-ed, mustachio-ed Leo wasn't even an employee there, he was just looking for parts for his Mazda 626. As we picked our way through, he regaled me with descriptions of his 626, about Thanksgiving dinner being at his sister's place, and how he had dreamed of being a mechanic, but...

I thanked him for helping me and he insisted on "escorting" me back to the trailer, where the guy-talk volume got cranked down pretty quickly. Some guy accidently dropped the "f" word and was told to shut the hell up, there was a lady in the room!

This was my first trip to a junk yard (and probably not my last because I came away empty-handed), but I have to admit, there was a certain...chivalry, albeit a bit rough about the edges, about the experience. It's not often in this day and age of equality and whatnot, that I get treated like a lady. I felt a little out of my element, out of my class, but was surprisingly, and reluctantly, charmed. A caveat, however: this would definitely not be my choice on where to find a date.

The blessing of friendship

As Thanksgiving approaches, we are all encouraged to reflect upon the good things in our lives. The last few years have been difficult, and sometimes it's been a struggle to focus on what is positive in my life. Life is better now. I have a job I love, a beautiful house, food on the table, my bills are paid, and I enjoy reasonably good health. But far above all else, I have my family and my friends.

Not all is constant; there have been losses and separations and misunderstandings, drifting away and deaths. Intimate relationships, in more recent years, have been few and far between (but not because I do not seek love, attraction, or connection. I am just waiting.)

However, if I could say I have a special gift, it is interacting and developing relationships with others. It is easy to make friends, I can walk into a party or take a class or strike up a conversation with someone sitting next to me, and come away with another acquaintance or addition to my circle of life. It has not been so easy, however, to let someone close to my heart, into my "inner circle." My mother, my best friend from childhood, a few others. These people ground me, they love me, they are what keep me centered.

Around this, my outer circle ebbs and flows with the rainbow of amazing people I meet from day to day. I am so fascinated. I love to hear about their lives, their stories, their dreams. I am amazed at the intelligence and talent to be discovered - that draws me like a moth to a flame! Intelligence - even better, intelligence with a great sense of humor - that is like "mind candy"! I love spending time with those who challenge me to think, to respond, and who make me laugh.

I am so lucky, because these special people are in my life now, and I know there are more to anticipate meeting. Can I possibly say how much I appreciate each and every one of you? I think I will make that my resolution for the New Year.

In the beginning...

I started writing when I was a little girl. My mom taught me to read by the time I was four and I've been fascinated by words ever since. I wrote my first "book" when I was about seven, a fairy tale consisting of stapled-together pages of writing paper, illustrated with pencils and crayons. Mom still has it somewhere amongst her mementos.

About the time I was twelve, I began a diary, which I kept faithfully, nearly every day, until I was in my mid-twenties. My journalistic "career" began when I started writing for the school newspaper in 7th grade and continued through my graduation from college, when I earned my Bachelor of Arts in Journalism. My first love was creative writing, but at some point I figured I'd better focus on a more career-oriented degree. Ironically, I decided that being a reporter just wasn't what I wanted to do for a living, and my life took a different direction. I do not regret that decision. What I do regret is that I stopped writing. I lost the "muse" somewhere along the way and it is my intention to find the stories that live inside me and bring them to the surface again.