Let It Be

Not only am I listening to that classic Beatles song right now, but it’s also clearly been the “theme” for my blog over the last 2 months… I haven’t written a damn THING.  So much for being a prolific blogger.

Deep down, I’m just your standard tortured writer.  I’m only truly moved to put pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to keyboard) when I’m mad, sad or wallowing in some sort of angst or turmoil.

Today, it’s kind of a crazy mix of all of the above.  You might as well stop here if you’re not in the mood for another installment of “why ME?!” because that’s the bumpy road I’m trudging down today.  Let me preface by saying that I know I’m blessed.  I know I am blessed with family, friends, health, and much more, but I just wish my current circumstances were different.  It’s getting really, really hard to handle the persistent creep of my mid-thirties while there are many things hanging in limbo on my “To Do” list of life.  I’m not talking about a Bucket List filled with pipe dreams such as “take a 3-week cruise to the Galapagos”  or “lasso wild horses in New Mexico” but definitely more along the lines of a “Sooooo, How Are Those Lifelong Career/Family/Home Goals Workin’ Out For Ya?!” kind of list.   I don’t even feel like I’m at a stand-still anymore, I feel like I’ve actually started to move BACKWARDS. 

I’m in a new division at work; I’m now the National Account Executive for our IT Consulting Division and there’s a pretty big learning curve.  I don’t mind that so much, in fact, it’s good to challenge your mind and learn new things so I’m ok with that.  But, in case you haven’t been living on PLANET EARTH for the last 2 years, the economy is still not in any shape to be spending money willy nilly, so of course, business is challenging to put it mildly.  A lot of people are in this boat and I know I’m not alone, but I keep hearing about the staffing heyday (a mere 5 years ago) when  commissions were sky-high and companies were much more open to using an outside firm to support their hiring needs. Now it’s a challenge just to get an appointment to MEET a potential client. Guess you could say that once again, my timing was just perfect (where’s that sarcasm font when ya need it?!) I think I can actually recall our great country’s financial collapse coincide precisely with the moment I changed my Outlook auto-signature to “Account Executive" back in 2008.

This too shall pass, right?  I know.  I really do.  But it often requires a great deal of strength just to wake up and be optimistic about the day ahead, unless that day is Saturday or Sunday.  Is it too much to ask to really love what you do for a living - what you spend a sickeningly large part of your LIFE doing??  I was telling Dan just today – most of the people I know who truly love their jobs are teachers.  You really HAVE to love being a teacher to put up with 15-20 of other people’s kids. 

There’s fire in my belly; I have a passion in there but it hasn’t been tapped and it’s in danger of sputtering out.  I want to feel like I’m REALLY GOOD at something, not just getting by to pay the bills and eek my way through life (thanks, Lloyd Christmas a la Dumb & Dumber inspirational monologue).

Newsflash - I also want a family.  Sometimes I want it so badly it hurts, other times I still genuinely appreciate and cherish my sweet freedom. But more often than not, I long for a little child to love and nurture and marvel at.   And it is not a decision to take lightly, to throw caution to the wind and say “oh well we’re broke and can barely manage our own lives but SO WHAT?!  We’ll find a way.”  That is too scary for me.   At the very least, I need a solid home (whether we own it or not, personally, is of little importance to me. I just want a HOME to call my OWN!) and a little nest stashed away for those 3AM doctor visits and family trips to Lake George.  I’m not high maintenance.  I don’t require a $50,000 SUV or crown moulding.  I just don’t want to feel like I’m doing the doggie paddle in the middle of a stormy ocean.

Thank you for letting me vent.  I actually feel a little better. I guess I’ll just keep plugging along, praying to God for guidance and reflecting on this:

“And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, LET IT BE.”  - The Beatles

 
Sunset over the Sierra Madre mountains,  Mexico 2007

Have you ever…

…hung up on someone for being completely obnoxious, even if it’s allegedly your job to take their bullshit?

…laughed hysterically out loud at the use of the word “vagina” as if you were a 13-year old boy?

…completely tuned someone out and just stared absently in the general vicinity of their face?

…rocked out to ELO’s “Don’t Bring Me Down” at your desk, regardless of who’s watching?

…picked a wedgie on a crowded train during rush hour?

…wished with all your might to re-live a certain time in your life?

…decided that you’re done working, despite there being 2 solid hours left in your day?

…cried unabashedly over nothing in particular yet everything all at once?

…read a fantastic book, then mourn the ending like a death simply because it’s over?

…given a stranger the stink eye just because you’re in a bad mood and they happen to bump into you on the subway?

…loved someone so completely that your heart literally HURT?

…looked deep into the eyes of your 6-year old nephew and told him to never change?

…had the bright spot of your day be a TV show (ahem, Lost)?

…known you’re destined for greater than where you are in life right now, but are not quite sure of your path?

…woken up on an early spring morning, giddy with anticipation of what lies ahead?

…been assured you made the right decision, just by a single word?

…really stopped and thanked God for the life you live, obstacles and all?

Just one of those years?

Today (and yesterday and the day before) has been one of those days where just about anything can completely undo me.  When it first started happening, I chalked it up to a bad day.  Then it started happening every day, so I couldn’t really rationalize it the same way each time.  Now I’m hoping it’s seasonal.  I really don’t want to wait another 2+ months to find out if I’m right or wrong though.  :)

It’s hard to feel, day after day, like you’re not living the life you’d dreamt of when you were growing up and making those plans in your daydreams.  I’ve always trusted that life would just work out; that God has a plan for me.  I still believe this, but at some point you have to realize that you are responsible for your actions, and you’re the one making your own decisions – nobody else.  You can’t blame your unhappiness on your job, your financial situation, your “stuck-in-a-rut-ness” without accepting that you’re the one at the helm.

Life is like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books from our youth (I’m sure most of you reading this know what I’m talking about - my fave by far was Vampire Express) – YOU’RE the one deciding which page to turn to. The only difference is, it’s not as easy to turn back and start a new adventure.

So, this is where my currently fragile state is stemming from – the feeling that I’ve made some bad decisions along the way and cannot undo them. (Classic questions in my daily rotation include: Why didn’t I save instead of spend? Why am I not the writer that I always thought I’d become?!)  Deep down, I know it’s not too late.  I’m 32, my ship has NOT sailed.  But at the same time, there is this tick-tocking that persists in the back of my mind and my heart when I think about the life I’ve always dreamed of and the less attractive parallel universe, aka REAL LIFE.

Here’s the part where I’m supposed to rally and tell you that I know I can still be the person I’ve always wanted to be. I can still have that house in Northport with my loving husband and 2 healthy kids AND a job I don’t dread, but the truth is that lately, I feel like these dreams are becoming more and more just that – DREAMS.  Reality is much less technicolor and the light at the end of the tunnel is shrinking. The tunnel is getting longer and longer.

I know, I know - optimism can go a long way.  I’ve been told to read The Secret, which is all about the power of positive thinking.  And yes, I do believe this, and how long can I host this pity party of one, but positivity is not going to get my bills paid and get me out of my mother-in-law’s basement any sooner.  Is it?

I feel like I’m losing, but it doesn’t mean I’m lost (thank you, Coldplay) and I am not afraid to admit I need help. I have plenty of reminders of my blessings – from the extra cuddles from my nieces and nephews to inspiring conversations with old friends, to a loving glance from my parents to a gentle, knowing kiss from Dan – I have not forgotten my blessings.  In fact, it’s those little reminders that nudge me out of bed in the morning on my worst days, and keep me laughing and smiling on my better days.

Here’s to more laughter. 

 

Proverbs 3:5-6 
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

My neocortex is at it again!

Last night I had to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and on my way back to bed, I literally SPRINTED through the kitchen and practically vaulted into bed from the hallway.  Why you ask?  I’m still thinking about them zombies.

There, I said it.

Tidbit of info - the neocortex and thalamus of the brain are mainly responsible for creativity and imagination – so I guess you could say these tricksters have dominant control in my ol’ dome. The fact that I’m turning 32 this weekend does not diminish my irrational (and often bane of my existence) overactive imagination. I have a sinking feeling that even when I have children of my own, I will be just as scared as they are of the monster under the bed and in the closet. My kids will definitely be turning to daddy when things go bump in the night!

The first indication that I may not be well-suited for nocturnal comforting was last summer when I was babysitting Leanna, Christopher and Ella overnight while my sis and Chris were at a wedding.  Christopher woke me up at 3AM in a sleepy fog, standing at the edge of my bed and pointing to the far corner of the dark room. “Who’s THAT?” he says as he rubs his eyes.  Before he could finish his sentence, I scooped him one-handed out of the bedroom and into Leanna’s room, slapping on the light with my heart pounding out of my chest.  It took all the courage I could muster to re-enter my sister’s bedroom and flick on the light.  Of course, it was nothing; just the ramblings of a groggy four year-old who’d just woken from a dream.  Why hadn’t I considered that first, before bolting out of the room like a woman with her hair on fire? 

Blame it on the brain, as Milli Vanilli would (not) say.

Seriously though – how do I overcome this both for my own sanity and for the future sanity of my children?  Simple answer – stop watching scary movies.  No. It’s way past that. I’ve seen wayyyy too many movies that have archived themselves in the recesses in my mind, ready to be brought forth at the darkest hour.

“You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” - Mark Twain

Chilly, Rainy, Lazy, Nostalgic Sunday

Looming workweek aside, Sundays are blissful. The Lord's day, but also my own. During football season when Dan can't be removed from the TV for 12 hours straight, it's my time to run errands or better yet, visit family & friends. Today is one of the latter and I couldn't be more content. First stop - Eileen and lil man Owen. I walk in, shed my coat and boots and smell the onions sauteeing for chili. Owen gives me one of his lil toothy grins (only two teeth are visible) and I can't help but unwind and settle into my "busy day of nothingness." Owen is at that irreplacable age where everything is a wonder. I watch amused, his sticky inspection of the carefully chopped cantaloupe. He tastes and sighs, and I fall deeper in love.

After a leisurely stroll to the library, Eileen and I enjoy a satisfying afternoon of chili and conversation. These moments are the kinds I savor, when time slows down and takes off its jacket, too. Sunday at 3:00pm has a distinctly different feel than 3:00pm on any other day of the week. I sit back to relish in the comfort of my best friend's inviting home, and the feeling that no matter what gets thrown at me this week, I have today, I have right now.

After several hours with two of my favorite people, I drive 5 minutes north to spend the rest of the day with some of my other favorite people. The first thing that occurs to me when I walk inside my parents' house is, "I am truly blessed." It seems so simple, but it cannot be taken for granted. I am lucky to be so loved and to be able to give that love in return. I find myself trying to remember this, to hold onto this moment right here because nothing is guaranteed, sadly for some people, not even a parent's love. But I am one of the lucky ones who can say that no matter what, there is love for me here.

My old bedroom still looks like I live there, half due to my own laziness and the other half to my inability to part with nostalgia. I decide today might be a good day to do some cleaning and finally "trim down." When I tell my mom of my intentions, she looks instantly relieved. I haven't lived here in years and I still manage to occupy two rooms with my clutter. Lenox and Cuisinart boxes are stacked high in the guest room, with hopes of relocating somewhere permanent. "Not today, boys" is what I think when I stare at the boxes and decide to tackle something a little less ambitious - my old dresser drawers.

Not that this is any small feat. The first drawer contains cards, letters, keychains, even a chunk of rock from Bryce Canyon (a trip my family took in 1990). I manage to part with many of the old cards and random papers, but then I spot my grandmother's handwriting and pull out some letters she wrote to me when I was in college. I miss her. I read and re-read the letters, noticing shakier penmanship on the letters with later dates. Even still, my grandmother's cursive is graceful. I miss her more.

I find the manila envelope marked "Important - Do NOT Throw Out" and smile. I know its contents, but have not looked at them in almost a decade. A paper time capsule. Inside contains four years of studying, reading, writing and late nights boiled down to a numbered grading system. Other items: My letter of acceptance to Oswego, an invitation letter to the Honors Program, even my housing form where I put "YEAH!!!" in giant bubble letters next to Kristi's name (my good friend from high school who would go on to become a best friend throughout college and to this day).

It feels like a million years ago that these forms were brand new, yet somehow, it also feels like I've just received them. Once again, time is seemingly relative. I don't know how many minutes go by before I pull myself back to today, to reality. Decades sprawl out before me on the pale pink carpet of my childhood, evidence that I've lived life and lived it well. No wonder I can't bear to part with these tangible memories. I throw away what I absolutely must, but the rest goes back in the drawer, spared.

Days such as today leave me feeling dreamlike, as if I'm watching my life through a window on a cold, snowy night. There are pieces I can no longer see; they've been obscured by the frost. The "artifacts" I've uncovered today are my reminders. They are my proof.

“Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.” - Bob Dylan

What is it about zombies, anyway?

OK folks, we’re going a lot lighter than my last two entries. A LOT.
I mean, you might leave your seat feeling dumber than when you got there.

I don’t know why, but zombie movies fascinate me. Probably because deep down, even though I know the idea is preposterous, something about people becoming shells of their former selves and suddenly having an insatiable hankering for brrrrraaaaaiiiiinnnnsss just captivates me. Why the bloodlust for humans, though? Why don't they crave, say, squirrels or rabbits or pigeons? Oh wait, those aren’t zombies, those are rednecks.

It seems over the last decade, these flicks have certainly been in abundance. But more recently than that, this new genre of comedy-infused horror is what has me hooked. Shaun of the Dead? Bloody loved it. Insert British accent - “She’s got an arm off!” I just think this fairly new film genre is brilliant. Who’d have thought that comedy and horror would fuse together so nicely? It’s the ultimate dichotomy really. I would imagine that the LAST thing one feels when being chased by the ravenous undead is, “what would be an appropriate witty outburst?”

But that’s the beauty. Take Zombieland, which Dan and I just watched last night. Woody Harrelson is dynamite, and the rest of the cast really made the movie fantastic. But the style of throwing in humor at the most seemingly inappropriate time just WORKS. It’s like the unexpected humor takes the edge off the absolute horror of the situation. Because in all honesty, if somehow zombies WERE to take over the world, I know laughter isn’t the best medicine. A sawed off shotgun is.

I’m definitely a little crazy because I go into these movies knowing FULL WELL I will have bad dreams and check every corner for a lurking zombie for the next several weeks, er, days. I’m almost 32. I know zombies aren’t real. But woe to the gal with the overactive imagination because I actually find myself thinking that I might be in danger at 6AM when I’m in the shower and at my most vulnerable. I can picture it now, I’m bent over shaving my legs and next thing I know, my foot is being gnawed through the shower curtain. It will only take 5-10 minutes for the transformation to be complete, then I’ll be mortally hungry and will most likely have the guilt of devouring my husband hanging over my undead head.

Please. I don’t really think any of this, I’m just telling you the effect these movies have on me. I think about them for days afterward and isn’t that the a redeeming characteristic of a great flick, regardless of the genre?

Suddenly, I want a cheeseburger. But before I go, let me just check under the desk and around the corner, because if it’s the apocalypse and there’s a zombie getting in the way of my very last cheeseburger (hey, for Woody it was a Twinkie), that zombie’s GOING DOWN!!!!!!!!!

“I just read this great science fiction story. It's about how machines take control of humans and turn them into zombie slaves! . . . HEY! What time is it?? My TV show is on!!!!” – Calvin & Hobbes

You’ve Come a Long Way, Baby

No, this entry isn’t an endorsement for Virginia Slims.  Far from it.  It’s about the redeeming qualities of “The City That Never Sleeps.”  Anyone who’s known me for a long time probably knows that I used to be deathly afraid of NYC. Stemming back to a family trip when I was about 7 or 8 where I kicked a box on the street and there was a homeless man inside. Talk about terrifying and in a very real sense, a loss of innocence for me.  People suffered like this right in front of others? Why wasn’t anyone helping this man?

Flash forward 24 years. I now work in midtown Manhattan, much to my own surprise. :) It’s still an overwhelming place to be but it’s amazing what age (and Giuliani’s efforts, I suppose) can to do one’s perspective of this crazy city. I’m still affected by the forlorn, tired and hungry faces I pass on the streets but it never ceases to move me (almost to tears, I admit) when I see random acts of generosity. 

Today, on my way to a client downtown, I watched a man who looked like he didn’t have much extra change himself, hand out sandwiches and bags of chips to several homeless people.  You should have seen the looks of gratitude on their faces. The man doling out the food didn’t appear to be affiliated with any sort of company - the sandwiches were saran wrapped and seemingly homemade. Who knows. It sure looked like he was doing this on his own, out of the goodness of his heart.

It’s these small kindnesses that bit by bit, restore my faith in humanity, which is just as easily shattered when I read news reports about bullies who set boys on fire, and mothers who abandon their children in frigid alleyways. 

At this point, you’re probably thinking I’m a major sap (true!) but I like to look at it this way – every day, every small deed is another chance to redeem yourself.  The best part?  You always have another opportunity.  Every. Single. Day.

It’s comforting on a deep level to know that within this sometimes rotten Apple, there are people who care about more than just their jobs, their burdens and their own lives.

“A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.” – Amelia Earhart

I'm The Queen Of...

...Procrastination.

I've been a writer my whole life and today, January 18, 2010 is the first time I'm creating/writing a blog. What took me so long, you ask? Well, there are myriad excuses (busy weekends, busier workweeks, blah blah blah) but really the answer is pure and simple - I'm a procrastinator who just happens to be a writer, well up until recently when my career took a surprising turn down the "Business Development (read: Sales)" path. Why do work ahead of time when you can put it off until it becomes a nagging black cloud of stress? I thrive on looming deadlines, it just makes me work faster and more efficiently. I guess that's why it took this long to start a blog - simply because there was no deadline hanging over my head.

So, I figure new year, new decade, new attitude. I have concerns about how I'll stack up against some pretty impressive blogs I've read out there (olivia, rebecca, kim!) but this is me, like it or lump it. Sometimes I'm funny, sometimes I'm plain silly, and sometimes I get really bummed out over things I can't control (aka LIFE). I invite you to ride down this path with me, but I can't promise it will be bump-free and without rambling detours.

Here's the introspective portion of my very first blog entry - I have learned, in my almost-32 years, that life truly is a blessing not to be taken for granted. It's beautiful and ugly, it's hilarious and heartbreaking, and most of all, it's unique to each and every one of us. To me, life is all about the people with whom you fill it, and the cast of characters in my life can certainly sustain this blog!

"Dont ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." - Howard Thurman

Listen...with your eyes.