I've been duly nudged by a friend and reader, that I've been gone too long.
Things aren't all bad, but they certainly aren't what I expected either. I am working a bit, as an independent contractor/freelance writer. It has a strong appeal for me, because it allows me to work from home, whatever hours I need to work. So when I have down time, I go to the gym, ride horses, or train my dog. I also cook and clean more. Interestingly enough, I chose this time in my life, (you know the time where I don't have a steady job), to start taking classes, classes working towards my Master's degree. So, working like this also allows me to do homework, or other class assignments. Sweet, right? Well, kind of. The downside is from one week to the next, I don't know if I'm going to have work. It's nerve-wracking at best, and ulcer-inducing at worst. I'm trying to stay positive, and convince myself that the next job/temporary or not, is on the horizon, and adopt that whole "everything happens for a reason" attitude.
Sometimes it even works, at least for a couple of hours.
My health insurance coverage ended this month, and there's nothing like not being truly employed coupled with not having health insurance to make you suddenly become more interested in the unending health care debate. Honestly I can't voice an opinion because I just haven't sat down and down my due diligence on the proposed bills, but I can tell you, that I think at least once a week, "what would happen to me if I fell off this horse/had a car accident/tripped going down the stairs and broke [fill in the blank], OR (heaven forbid) found a lump in my breast/had a seizure/got swine flu and needed medical care". Maybe because I've always had it and now suddenly don't, it weighs more heavily than for those that just never had it, but geeezy pete, this is not a happy place.
Things at home have shifted a good bit as well. My long-term boyfriend and I took that big "let's live together" step. So he and his 2 dogs (one of whom I love, the other not so much) have moved in. Unfortunately (but expectedly) my young dog has come into his own "maleness" in the last 3 months or so, and has decided he will no longer accept being pushed around by my old dog or the boyfriend's older female. Our house resembles Poland these days, a place divided by the ruling factions. Heh. Yeah. There's a two closed doors between warring dogs at all times policy. There was a bit of bloodshed and a LOT of hurt feelings (mostly on the part of the boyfriend) while we sorted this all out, but so far, it's working just fine. I find myself deciding to move from room to room in order to spend "equal" time with the dogs, which sometimes feels ridiculous but that certainly hasn't stopped me from doing things in the past, so I see no reason to start worrying about it now.
All in all, things could be way worse, and most of the time I'm grateful for what I have that's going right. Sometimes, that doesn't seem like a lot, and sometimes, it seems like Everything. So, if you catch me on the right day, Everything is just fine.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Hiatus
The last two days, I’ve had the same dream.
I’m standing on the corner of two streets in the neighborhood I grew up in. The park is just behind me on the right, the scene of the first joint I smoked; just a road beyond that is the house I grew up in. The house where my first memories were born, where some the biggest influences in my life first entered. To my left, maybe a block away is the house of the girl who was my best friend in grade school. To my right is the road that would take me to my first experiences with teen love and lust. For me, mostly the latter, for my friends, both in equal measure. Love, for me, was many years away.
I can’t figure out which way to go in the dream. I end up sitting on the curb with my head between my knees. I’m not crying. I am simply too overwhelmed to feel just one emotion. So I just sit there.
I’d have to be dead to not see the parallel in this dream to my own life right now. I feel like I am working really hard at just being okay, and it feel s so much like treading water I can’t figure out why I’m not wet. I can’t quite get to okay though. I am restless and exhausted, never quite sated in any arena, from the work I do to the meals I eat. I’ve had a headache nearly every day for the last 12 days or more. Sometimes they go away for awhile, but mostly they just retreat until I actually need to sit down and analyze data for the contract work I’m doing here and there. It forces me to write, then do something else, then go back and recheck, reword, reanalyze.
The permanent job I thought I had fell through, and while I’m grateful and lucky to have the contract work I do, the temporary nature of it is harder for me to deal with than I ever imagined. I worry all the time and the rest of the time I’m just plain sick to my stomach scared. I will be taking a couple of classes this fall, I’m considering my next degree, because what better time to reevaluate your life than when the one you were expecting to have is suddenly gone? I haven’t any idea how to pay for that anymore than I know how I’m going to pay anything else without regular work, but there I am, signing up for classes and buying rubber mulch for my empty flower beds like it’s any other fall.
I can be cheery and optimistic for the length of a phone call or email, or on a bad day just long enough to throw out a random facebook status update or to conduct a text message conversation. The rest of the time I’m wearing old sweats and thinking about the fetal position and it’s very difficult to type in the fetal position.
So yeah, now you know.
I’m standing on the corner of two streets in the neighborhood I grew up in. The park is just behind me on the right, the scene of the first joint I smoked; just a road beyond that is the house I grew up in. The house where my first memories were born, where some the biggest influences in my life first entered. To my left, maybe a block away is the house of the girl who was my best friend in grade school. To my right is the road that would take me to my first experiences with teen love and lust. For me, mostly the latter, for my friends, both in equal measure. Love, for me, was many years away.
I can’t figure out which way to go in the dream. I end up sitting on the curb with my head between my knees. I’m not crying. I am simply too overwhelmed to feel just one emotion. So I just sit there.
I’d have to be dead to not see the parallel in this dream to my own life right now. I feel like I am working really hard at just being okay, and it feel s so much like treading water I can’t figure out why I’m not wet. I can’t quite get to okay though. I am restless and exhausted, never quite sated in any arena, from the work I do to the meals I eat. I’ve had a headache nearly every day for the last 12 days or more. Sometimes they go away for awhile, but mostly they just retreat until I actually need to sit down and analyze data for the contract work I’m doing here and there. It forces me to write, then do something else, then go back and recheck, reword, reanalyze.
The permanent job I thought I had fell through, and while I’m grateful and lucky to have the contract work I do, the temporary nature of it is harder for me to deal with than I ever imagined. I worry all the time and the rest of the time I’m just plain sick to my stomach scared. I will be taking a couple of classes this fall, I’m considering my next degree, because what better time to reevaluate your life than when the one you were expecting to have is suddenly gone? I haven’t any idea how to pay for that anymore than I know how I’m going to pay anything else without regular work, but there I am, signing up for classes and buying rubber mulch for my empty flower beds like it’s any other fall.
I can be cheery and optimistic for the length of a phone call or email, or on a bad day just long enough to throw out a random facebook status update or to conduct a text message conversation. The rest of the time I’m wearing old sweats and thinking about the fetal position and it’s very difficult to type in the fetal position.
So yeah, now you know.
Monday, August 10, 2009
For Joe, all the words I have.
Twice in the last five years I've had the responsibility of relaying the news that someone we love has died. Once, to my mother, who's response was, "I'm coming" followed by a dial tone, and just recently to a friend when we lost a mutual friend. I found her disbelief rocked me almost more than the news itself. Her words, "I don't believe it, I'm calling him right now" and a beat or two later, more softly,"but I don't want him to be dead" sat in my head and my in heart, for at least a week. I wrote them down in my orange composition notebook in all caps and I looked at it everyday. I thought about how there just aren't any truer words to be spoken when that kind of news is delivered. Her grief, her anger, put me in touch with my own. I was traveling, somewhere in Delaware I think, when I got the word myself, I kept it together, more easily than I'd like to admit. But later that night confronted with her disbelief, her grief, I pulled to the side of the Interstate 476and sobbed.
During the week, his memorial was held, and our group of runner friends, they honored our friend by showing up at his service in their finest, accessorized with running shoes and leopard print scarves, honoring our beloved runner/caveman. Those that couldn't attend the service interrupted their normal schedules and ran at the appointed hour. I joined them in this, doing my speed work on the hotel treadmill and not caring much that the guy on the bowflex in the corner looked distressed and a little scared when I broke into tears during my last interval. I was remembering a few years back, when he broke 4 hours at the Philadelphia Marathon, and me, unable to attend, tracked him online all morning, screaming loudly enough to frighten the dog, as I watched his splits bringing him closer to his goal, 26.2 in under four hours. He did it.
And I cried alone in my living room, reveling in his success.
The man had a huge heart, a kind word, an open mind, and a smile for everyone he met. He never met a burrito he didn't like, and his perseverance made me a better runner. Proving time and time again, that the only limitations there truly are, are those we put on ourselves, everything else, EVERYTHING else, is negotiable, and in our own hands.
Dammit, Stace, I don't want him to be dead either.
During the week, his memorial was held, and our group of runner friends, they honored our friend by showing up at his service in their finest, accessorized with running shoes and leopard print scarves, honoring our beloved runner/caveman. Those that couldn't attend the service interrupted their normal schedules and ran at the appointed hour. I joined them in this, doing my speed work on the hotel treadmill and not caring much that the guy on the bowflex in the corner looked distressed and a little scared when I broke into tears during my last interval. I was remembering a few years back, when he broke 4 hours at the Philadelphia Marathon, and me, unable to attend, tracked him online all morning, screaming loudly enough to frighten the dog, as I watched his splits bringing him closer to his goal, 26.2 in under four hours. He did it.
And I cried alone in my living room, reveling in his success.
The man had a huge heart, a kind word, an open mind, and a smile for everyone he met. He never met a burrito he didn't like, and his perseverance made me a better runner. Proving time and time again, that the only limitations there truly are, are those we put on ourselves, everything else, EVERYTHING else, is negotiable, and in our own hands.
Dammit, Stace, I don't want him to be dead either.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Ch-ch-changes!
I got on the treadmill at the hotel the other day and set the time for 45 minutes. My pace wasn't easy, but it wasn't really hard either. I threw a hand towel over the display and turned on the ridiculously over-size flat screen television at the front of the gym. I flipped channels idly, finding nothing compelling enough to hold my attention for more than a few minutes.
Feeling strong, I picked up the pace, and was rewarded with a feeling I don't get often enough. The one that says I could run forever. That feeling came along with the completely emotional one of "and I wish I could just stay on this treadmill forever". Okay, to those of you who don't run, that sounds crazy, but no, I wasn't losing my grip on the last threads of sanity, it was just that running makes everything simple and uncomplicated. One foot in front of the other, breathe, when it gets hard, slow down, when you feel good, speed up, thirsty, drink. Simple.
Life lately, has gotten complicated.
A week earlier, after working very late on a Tuesday night, I was invited to a mandatory teleconference mid-afternoon on Wednesday. I called into find out I was one of 300 people at company ABC, who were being "released" thank you for all your years of service, come in tomorrow and drop off your company belongings, and have a nice day. I took that job 3 years ago, unsure I would like it, and was as surprised as those around me to find that I enjoyed it more than I expected, and along the way made some amazing friends. The kind of friends that remember good anniversaries and sad ones, and throw puppy showers when you bring your new 8 week old four-footed friend home.
Oh, I know, I shouldn't have been so surprised. I'm just one more of thousands of good people finding themselves adding websites like career builder to their Internet favorites folder, talking to recruiters, and hoping that a friend of a friend of a friend really will deliver your resume to the 'right hands' and the 'right hands' will dial the phone and ask you to come in for an interview. I was though, surprised, I mean. Stunned even. I can remember now staring at the contents of the open refrigerator and thinking that I should wait to eat until I was really hungry, because soon, I was going to run out of food. So. Melodramatic. Just where does that stuff come from? Company ABC gave me a severance package, although not huge, it's something, and I certainly realize the gift that 2 months is. Yet, that day, on the treadmill, I still wanted to run forever, just deal with the cadence of my footsteps, and not the rest of what I was thinking and feeling since losing my job. Logically, I know I did nothing wrong, emotionally, it feels somewhat humiliating.
Plainly, it just sucks.
I've done all the right things, filed for unemployment, and of course, I'm actively looking, talking and seeking work. I have my first interview today, and I'm not feeling too bad about it, a little unsteady, but I suppose given the way of the world these days, unsteady is probably the new black.
So, I'll wear my new black to my interview today and see where it takes me.
Feeling strong, I picked up the pace, and was rewarded with a feeling I don't get often enough. The one that says I could run forever. That feeling came along with the completely emotional one of "and I wish I could just stay on this treadmill forever". Okay, to those of you who don't run, that sounds crazy, but no, I wasn't losing my grip on the last threads of sanity, it was just that running makes everything simple and uncomplicated. One foot in front of the other, breathe, when it gets hard, slow down, when you feel good, speed up, thirsty, drink. Simple.
Life lately, has gotten complicated.
A week earlier, after working very late on a Tuesday night, I was invited to a mandatory teleconference mid-afternoon on Wednesday. I called into find out I was one of 300 people at company ABC, who were being "released" thank you for all your years of service, come in tomorrow and drop off your company belongings, and have a nice day. I took that job 3 years ago, unsure I would like it, and was as surprised as those around me to find that I enjoyed it more than I expected, and along the way made some amazing friends. The kind of friends that remember good anniversaries and sad ones, and throw puppy showers when you bring your new 8 week old four-footed friend home.
Oh, I know, I shouldn't have been so surprised. I'm just one more of thousands of good people finding themselves adding websites like career builder to their Internet favorites folder, talking to recruiters, and hoping that a friend of a friend of a friend really will deliver your resume to the 'right hands' and the 'right hands' will dial the phone and ask you to come in for an interview. I was though, surprised, I mean. Stunned even. I can remember now staring at the contents of the open refrigerator and thinking that I should wait to eat until I was really hungry, because soon, I was going to run out of food. So. Melodramatic. Just where does that stuff come from? Company ABC gave me a severance package, although not huge, it's something, and I certainly realize the gift that 2 months is. Yet, that day, on the treadmill, I still wanted to run forever, just deal with the cadence of my footsteps, and not the rest of what I was thinking and feeling since losing my job. Logically, I know I did nothing wrong, emotionally, it feels somewhat humiliating.
Plainly, it just sucks.
I've done all the right things, filed for unemployment, and of course, I'm actively looking, talking and seeking work. I have my first interview today, and I'm not feeling too bad about it, a little unsteady, but I suppose given the way of the world these days, unsteady is probably the new black.
So, I'll wear my new black to my interview today and see where it takes me.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Catching up
So, I look up and nearly a month has gone by, that, was not intentional. Life has been, if nothing else, interesting in the last month., and that is something to be grateful for I suppose, at least I have not died of boredom.
Spring has arrived in North Carolina, and despite several interruptions of rain, rain and cold, cold and rain, and rain, I've already had to cut my grass and just today spent some time wandering around the backyard noting all the new baby grass sprouting in the areas I put down seed earlier in the year.
I went to church on Easter Sunday with a friend. You'll know it was a good friend when I tell you I not only went, but went to a sunrise service in a cemetery. I've always thought religion was macabre, and this fit right in to that notion. I want to tell you it was a beautiful cemetery, but that seems wrong. Just how beautiful can a place full of dead people be? The grounds were pretty, the trees were overwhelmingly beautiful, and the service included an all brass band that performed multiple times and was more impressive each time, but it was, a cemetery. While I have no desire to be planted when I pass on, as the idea of becoming human mulch does not work for me personally, I am a staunch believer in 'to each his own' and I am as respectful of burial places as I know how to be. So I was more than a little surprised as I watched the people joining the service around me as they trod over graves, and bumped into/rested on crypts. To say I was disappointed when I noticed the minister gave his sermon from atop someones stone grave marker would be an understatement.
The service itself, seemed a little dark given that at least in my mind, in my limited prior religious experience, Easter Sunday should be a celebration. I walked away feeling like the minister felt we should all be wringing our hands and weeping while kneeling on a bed of nails waiting for Christ's return. No joy in mudville would be permitted.
The going meant something deeply personal to my friend so I am glad to have done it, regardless of my own (unchanged) feelings for organized religion. My friend and I followed the service with grilled corn on the cob, sweet potatoes and burgers. We read a little on my deck and watched the dogs play and dig and run in the very welcome sunshine.
I had my first interview with the Weight Watchers folks, and although it might still come together, it's going to be a way off., they just don't have the need for more people right now. I can wait. Somethings are worth the waiting.
Last week I returned to Philadelphia for dog training. It was a welcome change of pace to the previous busy few weeks at work. Sleeping in, even in a hotel, and not having to be anywhere until 10, feels like some sort of decadence, especially when I realize the place I have to be at 10 is an open field, with my dog and a trainer, a trainer I love and respect more each hour I spend with him. I leave Philadelphia feeling completely not-crazy for trying to finance these trips or at least I feel comfortable enough with the level of crazy it might be to shrug it off when I tell people and they get the look. The one that suggests they are thinking there might be something seriously wrong with me.
I ran another 10k - my best race in some time. It wasn't a record breaker and the Olympic committee isn't knocking down my door, but it was a success by my yard stick. A (relatively) fast, extremely consistent, happy, feel-good 6.2 miles followed by a trip to the local bakery that sponsored the race for a free loaf of bread and a bag of jambalaya soup mix. In my world, that's a damn good way to start any day.
I got my final receipt for the beach house rental in the mail the other day - just about 7 weeks to go. I bought a polka-dot bathing suit and a multi-colored-striped beach umbrella. I told the dogs we were going. The thought of 7 wake-ups with good friends, good coffee and dog-beach walking is more than enough to get me through the next 7 weeks - no matter what they hold. You're invited to stop by, look for the umbrella, planted somewhere off Sand Road, I'll have a pitcher of mimosas in the cooler and be sitting with the red head with the wicked sense of humor and irrational fear of chickens.
It's guaranteed to be a good time.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Just a post about a run
I am, still, after four years of running, completely suprised at how the simple act of moving through the world on my own two feet at a pace of my own choosing can make me makes me so strong, so powerful.
I worked from home today, and just before lunch, laced up my running shoes and headed out the door. Spring has reared her head here, so things are greening and blooming and it was cool and breezy, and bright and clear. Perfect running weather. I dragged out my garmin forerunner for this run, because I at least wanted to know how far I went, regardless of the pace. Technically, Mondays are supposed to be recovery runs for me (which would imply I did something on Sunday to recover from) but I didn't run this weekend, I rode both horses on Sunday, and while my core and abductors are very sore, running doesn't ease riding soreness. So off I went.
I made up the run as I went along. Since I was running along the main road in front of my neighborhood, I left the IPOD at home. I got some running advice from a guy picking up his mail "pick your knees up a little higher", was told to be careful by a guy on a bike, and my personal favorite, was yelled "what are you training for?" by a guy at a stop sign, I smiled waved, and yelled back "the rest of my life". Yeah, I know, totally corny. I couldn't help myself.
Some runs are just like that.
I worked from home today, and just before lunch, laced up my running shoes and headed out the door. Spring has reared her head here, so things are greening and blooming and it was cool and breezy, and bright and clear. Perfect running weather. I dragged out my garmin forerunner for this run, because I at least wanted to know how far I went, regardless of the pace. Technically, Mondays are supposed to be recovery runs for me (which would imply I did something on Sunday to recover from) but I didn't run this weekend, I rode both horses on Sunday, and while my core and abductors are very sore, running doesn't ease riding soreness. So off I went.
I made up the run as I went along. Since I was running along the main road in front of my neighborhood, I left the IPOD at home. I got some running advice from a guy picking up his mail "pick your knees up a little higher", was told to be careful by a guy on a bike, and my personal favorite, was yelled "what are you training for?" by a guy at a stop sign, I smiled waved, and yelled back "the rest of my life". Yeah, I know, totally corny. I couldn't help myself.
Some runs are just like that.
Monday, March 16, 2009
I love these dumb things, and it won't stop raining..
1.Your rock star name (first pet, current car) - Sparky Commander!
2.Your gangsta name (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe) -
Cookie Dough Boots (not really that "gangsta" if you ask me)
3.Your Native American name (favorite color, favorite animal) - Red Wolf ( like it!)
4.Your soap opera name (middle name, city where you were born) - Lynn Johnstown
(ha!)
5.Your Star Wars name (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name) CRAJE (stupid!)
6.Superhero name (2nd favorite color, favorite drink) -
Green Mojito (awesome!)
7.NASCAR name (the first names of your grandfathers) -
Richard Wayne
(Scary realistic)
8.Dancer name (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy) Princess Peppermint Patty (hells yeah!)
9.TV weather anchor name (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Ruble Raleigh (hahahaha!)
10.Spy name (your favorite season/holiday, flower) - Spring Daisy
11.Cartoon name:(favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now) -
Strawberry Yoga Pants (squeee!)
12.Hippie name (what you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree) - Cereal Maple
Mcmuffin Oak (um, whatever)
13.Movie (or porn) star name (first pet, first street where you lived) -
Sparky Bing! (see my email address for how much I love this name).
Carry on with your regular scheduled blog surfing, it has been raining in Raleigh for 5607 days and I can't take it anymore, I need sunshine and flowers and warm weather and green grass and a ride on a horse, or I AM GOING TO START KICKING THINGS.
(It always seems that every one else who does this meme gets better answers than I do.)
2.Your gangsta name (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe) -
Cookie Dough Boots (not really that "gangsta" if you ask me)
3.Your Native American name (favorite color, favorite animal) - Red Wolf ( like it!)
4.Your soap opera name (middle name, city where you were born) - Lynn Johnstown
(ha!)
5.Your Star Wars name (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name) CRAJE (stupid!)
6.Superhero name (2nd favorite color, favorite drink) -
Green Mojito (awesome!)
7.NASCAR name (the first names of your grandfathers) -
Richard Wayne
(Scary realistic)
8.Dancer name (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy) Princess Peppermint Patty (hells yeah!)
9.TV weather anchor name (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Ruble Raleigh (hahahaha!)
10.Spy name (your favorite season/holiday, flower) - Spring Daisy
11.Cartoon name:(favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now) -
Strawberry Yoga Pants (squeee!)
12.Hippie name (what you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree) - Cereal Maple
Mcmuffin Oak (um, whatever)
13.Movie (or porn) star name (first pet, first street where you lived) -
Sparky Bing! (see my email address for how much I love this name).
Carry on with your regular scheduled blog surfing, it has been raining in Raleigh for 5607 days and I can't take it anymore, I need sunshine and flowers and warm weather and green grass and a ride on a horse, or I AM GOING TO START KICKING THINGS.
(It always seems that every one else who does this meme gets better answers than I do.)
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