I've forgotten all my French

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 05:47:56 GMT

This is not a normal Christmas.

I've been unemployed since February. I lost a friend who was very important to me. He didn't die. We just don't speak anymore. I'm broke-ass broke. I've gained like 30 pounds and I've struggled with depression off and on for the first time in my life.

But.

I've had some pretty good laughs. Some of my friends have revealed their true natures and I cherish that. I met a boy who is becoming v. v. important to me. And I've just been cast in a play. For which I will make one hundred American dollars. Which will not cover my gas money. BUT. It's something.

So this year, I wasn't gonna decorate at all for the holidays. But then a friend of mine inspired me with her tree and I decided to put one up. I usually have a real one but this year my mom had a Big Lots coupon for an artificial one, pre-lit. *shudder* I put it up and it looks, actually kinda nice at night. But instead of putting up all my regular ornaments, I decided to make this year's tree about Place. Because that's where I am right now, and that's been the through line of this year for me. Where I've been, where the feck I'm supposed to be going, where I *want* to go. What I *want* to manifest in the new year. It's hokey as hell people but if you want to see more, clicky.

I've used a lot of stuff I had in my house from places I've traveled, in addition to some other things that have meaning to me. Starting at the bottom of the tree, we've got a Mere Poulard cookie tin I bought on Mont St. Michel in France, a couple of horse chestnuts which are supposed to bring luck, and some wine and champagne corks. The red box was given to me on my 30th birthday and is filled with wishes from my friends to me. I think they're still pretty relevant.

The friend who inspired this tree gave me the pillow. The cat mask is from Venice. I don't know how much theater will be in my future but I'd like to keep my hands in either acting or writing. And those... would be tarot cards. I used tarot cards on my christmas tree. Am I going to hell for that? I don't know. But these and the ones on the tree represent things I'd like to see happen in my life. So I used them. I think God and the Universe are the same thing anyway. So maybe it's okay.

Okay so the books are ones that represent my theme and things I want in my future. Well, *more* of in my future anyway. As you can see I would like my life to contain lots of meat and comfort food, travel, people who understand the basics of etiquette, respect sprituality and can string together a coherent sentence. I think I need to work on those things myself.

I'm going to visit Boy in Wyoming at the end of the month. I have decided the trip will be safe, the flying smooth, and the visit happy and informative. So I put the printed out ticket on my tree. Don't judge me. I'm awesome.

Another favorite tarot card, The World.

My parents, because God/dess knows I don't know what I would do without them, financials aside. My mom just turned 69 and my dad is about to be 74. They're in good health and I intend to keep it that way. Also, The Empress.

I went to the UK when I was in college. I need to go back. My innards have unfinished business there.

In keeping with my theme, here is my favorite ornament. It's a bunch of buildings and landmarks in Nashville. I don't know that I will be living here the rest of my life. In fact I kinda hope I'm not. But it will always be home.

This is at the top of the tree. It's the tarot Strength card and that would be a beret on top. 100% wool. Itches like a mofo.

After I decorated it, I smudged it with sage. I smudged my freaking christmas tree. And you know what, I feel good about that. Boy and I had a conversation today about manifesting what you want. He said he no longer talks in terms of what if. He only says what is and what is not. And the things that "are not" at the moment, if he wants them, he considers them to be definitely on the way, so that makes them "are"s. I've been philosophizing quite a bit for the last ten months. I guess you really only have three choices in general. Give up and die, give up but stay alive, or keep going. The first one I've considered, but not very appealing. The second, I've been there and done this year, and really can't recommend it. So I guess that puts me at the third. Suck it up and walk it off, candy ass. Just keep looking at the pretty lights in the distance. I think I may leave this thing up all year.

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 23:46:28 GMT

The question I'm about to pose may freak you out, so before I ask it, let me assure you that I have no current plans to off myself or harm myself in any way, or to harm anyone else. So please don't send the cops out to my house or call me in a panic.

That said. Have you ever been to a place wherein you don't necessarily *want* to die, but you think, "you know, if I *were* to die, things would just be much easier. No more financial burdens on my family, no more having to 'suck things up and get over it' as everyone, including myself, keeps telling me to do. It would just be better and easier." Anyone? Ever been there? And if so, did you just wake up one day and find yourself over it? Did you see a therapist? Were you mentally strong enough to just meditate your way out of it? Is it just a funk? I've never felt this way before, never had depression, it's just been a really hard year and I'm sure this will all pass eventually, la la la. I'm just wondering if anyone else has ever like, really seriously felt this way.

Sat, 12 Sep 2009 16:38:28 GMT

I'm just gonna start posting things my cousin says on Facebook. He's waaaaay funnier than I am. Here is his latest:

"Check out my line of childrens books:
The Princess and Pickle
Go Dog Go Take Your Things I Want A Divorce
Llama Llama DUI
Where The Wild Things Score Their Junk
Kids Mess Things Up
Be Pretty So The Boys Like You
Bedtime With Anton LaVey
Riding... A Bike Is Not For Everyone
If Your Happy And You Know It Eat Your Feelings
Let's Go To The Park...And Meet Guido
You And Mr. Hatchet."

HAHAHAHAHAHA

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 21:32:39 GMT

FU, Penguin.

DED

Thu, 03 Sep 2009 18:20:33 GMT

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 21:57:24 GMT

Sat, 11 Jul 2009 04:08:39 GMT

I didn't get the job.

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 04:03:54 GMT

Read this. It will haunt you.

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 00:51:54 GMT

Made the cut to the final round of interviews for Cool Job. Have to go back next week to meet with a group of people and the department director.

Fingers. Crossed.

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 19:16:30 GMT

This.

I hope my good pants still fit. But probably not.

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 21:09:31 GMT

I have a job interview tomorrow. For a non-profit making less than $30K a year. But it's something awesome that would really suit me and I would probably love. Please. Pray, light candles, smudge me from afar. Whatever you have to do.

Thank you.

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 03:18:35 GMT

Emo bunny.

Fri, 29 May 2009 17:51:27 GMT

So I'm doing this three week dog sitting gig (and have a potential part time marketing job in the works which I refuse to allow myself to hope for because that's how I'm rolling these days) and after two days with me the dog had to go to the vet because she was so depressed about her regular nanny being out of town. I am not lying. The owner said, "hey! take the day off!" like it was a special treat or something. She's a 9 year old Japanese Shen and when she's left alone for more than and hour and a half, she suddenly realizes, "oh shit, I'm alone," and freaks out, hyperventilates and passes out. My hand to god. She has a regular nanny who hasn't taken a vacation in six years but now is on a three week cruise and the dog is kinda wigging out. I keep staring at her to make sure she's still breathing.

Anyway, in addition to being on Pet Deathwatch 2009, these people have also hired me to do some organizing for them. The grandmother recently went to a nursing home and she was a huge packrat and had, over the years, become the extended family's repository for photos, keepsakes, letters, wills, etc. In other words, she had a shit ton of stuff. So they trucked it here to the house and I have been going through it, figuring out who's who, reading letters and wills and newspaper clippings and everything to figure out what goes in whose pile. Yesterday I spent like half and hour just staring at this oddly fascinating photo of a Scottish guard (some ancestor spent some time there in the 20s) and thinking, "this guy is probably dead now but this picture of him, someone's husband, someone's granddad, is here. In America. 80 years later." It felt a little bizarre.

So after I piled everything up, they bought some boxes for me to put each person's pile in for storage. The woman who hired me, Susan, said, "what the hell am I gonna do with all this stuff when I die? You think my daughter's gonna keep it? I might as well throw it away now." And it felt kinda sad to me for some reason. (This may also have something to do with the fact that I toured a nursing home this morning and really old people hunched over in wheelchairs looking forgotten kind of hurts me.) But she's right. I mean, what do you do with a funeral condolence book once the hurt is gone and it's three generations later? But what really struck me was going through and putting these people in their boxes and realizing, unless they had kids, this is really all that's left on this earth of some of these people. One of them drowned on his honeymoon at age 27 in 1925. Studying to be a doctor. Very sad. And now all the evidence of his existence fits into a small first class mailer. And there's nothing wrong with that, most people don't leave behind monuments or eternal flames on their graves. But it's kind of, I don't know, is humbling the right word? Something about it just seems, right. Like, yeah, that's how it is. That's life. You come, you do what you can, you make choices, things happen, and then you exit and make room for other people without leaving a lot of crap behind for other people to have to box up or put on eBay. I don't know how that sounds, but it's not really a sad or cynical thing. It's just an eye opening thing to me I guess. And I started to wonder what would be left of me when I die. What would be deemed important enough to keep and put into my box that goes into a cousin's attic somewhere? I think it might be better to leave something else behind, something that other people can enjoy and it can be used, not just take up space somewhere. That's the beauty of being an actor or artist of some kind. You can create things that can be enjoyed even after you're long gone.

And now Driving Miss Daisy is on t.v. I think the universe it telling me I should take this nursing home job.

Also, I totally forgot about this user pic. Seeing it now makes me sad.

Wed, 27 May 2009 18:16:06 GMT

I am part of an autobiographical writing camp for teenaged girls that runs every June, with meetings once a month year round. It's an unbelievable program, one in which girls from all family situations and socio-economic backgrounds and races bond and almost always become important parts of each others lives. As young girls often do, given the right circumstances. I don't want to use some craptastic cliche about me learning so much about myself from the girls. But what else can I say? It's really hard to try to be an example to someone and counsel her when you yourself are having pretty much the same problem. With relationships, with what you want to do with your life, with friends, with the way you treat other girls in general. It gives you perspective in a way that nothing else really can. (And oh honey, these girls will CALL each other on their shit. And then give each other a big fat hug afterward and move on. It'll leave you speechless.)

One of them, a beautiful, cool, feisty 16-year-old with her nose pierced and black eyeliner who changed her name to something she liked better, was born with a serious heart condition and has had many surgeries over her lifetime. She had decided, at the age of 12, that she was done. Didn't want any more. Then at that same age, she started this program, and in the last year or two she really blossomed, started to find herself. Made bonds with other girls and decided that she wasn't going down without a fight. She agreed to let her parents put her on the transplant list, despite her rare blood type and the chances that a match would be found were slim. She knew the odds, but she chose to try. The girls in the program visited her constantly at the hospital. Texted, Facebooked, kept in touch and included her in the meetings. Refused to have her feel left out. Insisted she share her fear and pain with them. Comforted her and made her laugh as she did them. She was funny too, did I mention that? Kind. Brilliant. She was texting her friends from her room after the first surgery, chest still cracked wide open.

Sunday, after 2 transplants in the last month, her little body had had all it could handle, and she passed away. Services will be next Sunday in the park. Sixteen. Scared and fearless at the same time. When people die, sometimes the ones left behind tend to idealize them. Make them out to be more than they actually were. But truly, this girl was one of the best. The girls from the camp are conducting her memorial service.

That is one badass rap.

Sun, 24 May 2009 05:57:09 GMT

He doesn't skate like a man. He doesn't skate like a woman, but he doesn't skate like a man.

In which I namedrop

Mon, 18 May 2009 04:42:17 GMT

What? Come on people. It's a much needed "something nice." And really what is a journal for, if not this kind of thing?

Last night I was at my theatre company's latest production, Simpatico. After the show, hanging out in the lobby, Emmylou Harris told me she remembered how funny I was in this show she had brought her mother to and she thought I was a good actor. And I almost melted. Not because it was Emmylou, I would have felt like that no matter who said it. But it was a little surreal. And also, it could have been a total crock. But I'm taking it to my happy place nonetheless and leaving it there.

A word, if I may, about Lost

Fri, 15 May 2009 20:07:20 GMT

I realize some people probably haven't seen the season finale yet so I will hold the spoilers. But the thing about this show in general is that it's not what you could consider "casual viewing." You pretty much need to take notes as you watch it. Excel spreadsheet, easel with giant flipable pages so you can make like, family trees and pie charts and shit. If you want to enjoy Lost to its fullest, you have to PAY ATTENTION. So, if you haven't seen the two hour season ender yet, pay very close attention to the conversation in the first scene on the beach. Like, remember the specific words used. Because two hours later in the last scene, it's gonna tell you what the fuck's going on. Kind of. In a not-really kind of way. I had to go back and read the Television Without Pity recap to figure it out. Now I'm all, "DUDE." But right after I watched it I was saying, "dude?"

Also. There are only TWO acceptable characters to kill off in this show. No, three. Well, kind of a lot really. They are: Kate, Jack, the Dharma asshole with the glasses, Phil, Ilana and/or any of the new crash survivors. Anyone else who is killed off poses a SERIOUS risk of me severing ties with this exhausting show once and for all.

Dear Lost Writers,

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Sincerely,

Everyone who watches this show. Everyone.

ART

Fri, 15 May 2009 19:35:15 GMT

Let the bidding..... BEGIN!

I'm just kidding. I would never sell this. It's going in my bathroom.

*Edited to add special thanks to clockworktomato who gifted this to me!

Thu, 14 May 2009 17:35:24 GMT

These fat bastards need to get out of the nest already!

Seriously, they're full-grown, sitting in there getting fatter by the day. One of them was standing on the nest yesterday and I thought it was the mother at first. Actually, I believe as of this morning, one of them has flown. But the other two look preeeetty comfortable in there.

Elsewhere in Eofa's Wild Kingdom, I have caught 8 chupacabras and the 9th appears to have buggered off. No food left, y'see. My folks are coming over today to help close up all the official ports of entry. Then I'm going to bleach down the cabinet they got into and repaint it. I probably don't need to do both, but honestly if I could get a priest in here to exorcise it and throw some holy water around my kitchen, I would. I don't do rodents.

Wed, 13 May 2009 21:40:20 GMT

Do you remember the books you used in elementary school to learn to read? Here are mine:

I started kindergarten in 1976 and in MY day, the school told parents not to teach their kids to read before starting school, because they had to follow the curriculum of teaching us the alphabet and if we could already read, we would be bored. Ahh, the 70s. So. My first day of school I informed my mother I was NOT going back because they didn't teach me to read. (end mildly amusing anecdote and my mother's favorite school story about me) Anyway, for some reason, one day A Duck is a Duck popped into my head and then Helicopters and Gingerbread and I thought (no idea why) that I would really like to see these books again. So I went to Amazon and lo and behold, someone was actually selling them there. So I bought them. This is back when I was gainfully employed, btw, and spent money like it was going out of style. (Lesson #1 of being unemployed, you learn how to wisely spend money and vow you will never blow it on stupid crap again, knowing damn good and well that you will.)

I've been doing a lot of self reflection lately. I mean, A LOT. People, I could do a goddamned PBS fundraiser with Dr. Wayne Dyer about meditiation and being positive and Your Best Life. Wayne would, of course, be pacing around on stage doing all the work in his pajamas and I would be sitting in the rock garden stage left providing the snark. But BY GOD would would raise PBS some serious cash. My point, and I do have one, is that part of this unemployment-slash-interpersonal-relationship-hell inspired EatPrayLove fest has been looking back at this, what is undoubtedly the halfway point in my life, as I am clearly having a mid-life crisis, and getting all nostalgic. So I went back and looked at these books again. WHOO BOY they are 70s-riffic, y'all. The illustrations and pictures made me LAWL. These books were originally published around 1969 and then recopywrighted in '73 and '76. So YOU know what's up in here.

Oh my god I am SO OLD. I found a section in One to Grow On about the Wave of the Future. Something called, "computers." Behold 1976:

My brothers both had shirts like this.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. It looks like he could expect a coffee cup to drop down in the opening and start filling up with cappuccino. It's like the computers in the Hepburn/Tracy movie Desk Set. Which is terrific, by the way. You should watch it.

The Tele. Typewriter. LOL. At least it's a fashionable olive green. Well, you know. For the 70s. Incidentally, this photo encapsulates what my whole house looked like when I bought it, before the renovations started. Welcome. Come on in. Have a pina colada.

Dear Future, I hope komputerz in the future do not develop to such a point that there are lots of video games that will paralyze my common sense with the mind-blowing juxtaposition of fun and utter dysfunction. Also, please don't let mommy and daddy get a divorce. (too dark? I can never tell.)

Oi! You kids! Don't sit on the shelves in the library! *mumbling* Stupid kids... god I can't wait.... 5 more years and I've got enough to retire... (I used to teach school. Can you tell?)

I used to have a purple dress just like this. My mom made it for me. Including the rickrack around the bottom. Also, homerow keys, kid! Good lord, public schools teach NOTHING.

These books are geared toward kids in the first through second or third grades, tops. Interestingly, I found this in the back of one of them:

Don't do it, Robin McNamara. You're only in third grade. This kid has been held back so many times he drives himself to school and smokes during recess. He'll tell you he loves you, talk you into drinking the half empty bottle of Tanqueray he found and then end up threatening you when he gets out of juvie if you don't visit him there every weekend. Stick with the cello lessons, Robin. You have so much to live for.

Random crap

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 02:16:22 GMT

1. The baby birds flew the nest!
2. Got my official rejection email from Dave Ramsey's people. It's okay. They hired someone who better fit their needs at this time. Like you do.
3. I spent my Christmas money today on a new wallet and a few articles of clothing. I've never been one for retail therapy and I loathe shopping for anything other than home decor and exotic foods, but it did actually make me feel better. Mom took me to lunch. It was good.
4. Going to my parents' for Easter dinner.
5. My tax refund was mailed three weeks ago and I haven't received it yet. This mildly concerns me.
6. As does the fact that I'm breaking out like a teenager. What up with that?
7. Sooooo tie-tie.
8. Been working on WoW achievements. Old world instances mostly.
9. I love zombies.
10. I want to make a really good paella.
11. Got my fireplace painted. It looks hella better. Now for the rest of the living room.
12. I need to find me some tulips. They're my favorite flower and when I was in school in France I used to go to the flower market every week and buy a bouquet because they were really cheap and made me happy. My friend asked me last week what I was doing for myself lately, to make myself happy. And I couldn't think of anything. So I may have to settle for some yard flowers but if I can find some really cheap tulips, I am going to buy them for myself.
13. Netflix, I wish I could quit you.
14. At least I'm not Lindsey Lohan. Things could be worse.

Bird watch 2009

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 21:06:44 GMT

It's hard to see here but these babies are getting a little too big for mama to sit on them. Here, one pokes his head out from under her.

I scared the mother off trying to get in for a better shot. Every time she flies away I worry she won't come back. But she always does.

And for those of you who believe in alternative spirituality, scroll down here to see the meaning of the robin totem. Just saying.

My bathroom window ledge

Fri, 03 Apr 2009 19:53:34 GMT

Baby robins!

The universe loves me.

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 18:26:58 GMT

It, like Ike Turner, just doesn't know how to show its love in a constructive way.

I can't walk. I woke up yesterday with pain in my left heel so bad it woke me up. I was able to stand but it was incredibly painful to walk so I had to stay off it and do the Igor slide when I did. I suspected a heel spur, which I've never had, so I looked it up and Dr. Internet confirmed that that's what it likely was. It said to stay off it, stretch it, ice it and take something. All of which I did. Then, because this is how I roll, I thought about what might be trying to get my attention with this pain. What is god or the universe or whatever trying to tell me. So I meditated for a while. And journalled. And fully believed it would be, if not better today, at least the same.

It's worse.

I can't walk on it at all now. My mom is coming over with some crutches and I've called the doctor to see what she can do. Because it's not like I'm a Jehovah's Witness or whatever and don't believe in good old fashioned medical treatment when necessary. It would have been awesome if my former employer hadn't waited THREE WEEKS to send me the COBRA paperwork. Which I've filled out but now I have to mail it in since I just got it two days ago. Which means I have no insurance at the moment. Awesome. I'm telling you some seriously bad karma is lining up for my former HR person.

Thing is I have an interview on Monday morning with an awesome company for a job I think I'd really like to have. And I damn sure can't be all hobbling in there with crutches. This has to be resolved before Monday. Christ. When it rains it pours, doesn't it? Eh, I've had a good run. Probably due for some character building from the universe. All I want is some cupcakes but it's probably my fat ass that partially caused this in the first place, so that's probably not a very good idea. I was supposed to go to a cabin with some friends this weekend, which I was really looking forward to. Maybe I'm not supposed to go. I don't know. The pain. It's distracting.

OH! But in other news, I have heat now! Finally had a new HVAC system installed yesterday. I am toasty warm and will never take that for granted again. My life seems to be going like this at the moment. Something shitty, something awesome, something shitty, something awesome. The good news is that I feel like I'm in some kind of transition, which is actually kind of exciting. Because I don't know exactly what's coming, but I feel like it's going to be good. Not just okay, but good. My tax return was big enough to pay next month's mortgage at least. So maybe Ike is sorry...

Mmmm. Cupcakes.

/cry

Fri, 13 Feb 2009 03:47:28 GMT

Today, my fellow Americans, I join the 3 million others of you who are unemployed. Thaaaat's right. Lost my job.

It's starting to sink it but I did that stoic, omgit'snobigdeal! thing while I was still at the office moving my stuff out. So I'm kind of scared relatively shitless about it but the thing that depresses me the most is that I no longer work with clockworktomato . It's going to be very strange not seeing her every day. I did offer to go cat-sit. She and elsrik took me to dinner tonight and made me laugh so I didn't just go to bed and wallow. I really cannot stress how important that was. And I've had a few friends call and email their support, which again I really appreciate. So I feel lucky and grateful, but sad and very pissed off at the same time. It's an odd feeling.

People are telling me to just take tomorrow to regroup and rest and take care of me but I'm a Virgo and I just can't do that. I have to make appointments at temp agencies and update my resume and get a paper to look for a job. And I'm rehearsing a show right now that opens next weekend. I need to wrap this up because if I think much more about it I'll start crying and I don't want you all to see that.

So.

I have most excellent friends. And my family. Let's hope I have some good karma floating around out there somewhere in the universe that will come back to me soon.