Invisible With Liberty and Justice for…well…some

I went out into the world with good intentions. I had a smile on my face. I had music in my ears, it was raining, I was happy. When you are a middle aged woman however…you could be naked and eating baby animals and no one would see you. I went into a honey shop, and wandered around and was pretty intrigued by all the cool stuff. I went in because a sign out front said COME IN AND TRY OUR MEAD. ok! Sounds amazing.

There were only two people in the store and me. So I then see two girls walking out with coffee. COOL! I really left the house with intent to find coffee. How cool that the place I wandered into has coffee! I wander to the back, there is coffee. I stand there and stand there and stand there. I start to wander away…the girl who works there appears completely annoyed by me.

‘Do you want drip?’

Uh, I guess so. ‘Yes!’ I smile.

‘Room for cream?’

“Yes, that would be great!’

I stick my credit card into the space age dynamic that takes our money now…I am looking at the mead counter and menu.

“I wanted to try some mead too!’

“Do you want the coffee first or the mead?”

“I need coffee.”

Her: nothing

“I just need your signature.” Her way of saying GET YOUR CARD OUR OF THE READER – because there is no signature, I just needed to press one more thing to finish the transaction.

She puts a carton of cream on the counter. I take it with me to the coffee thermos thingy on the counter – which is…like church coffee so why are you being such a bitch? I bring the creamer back to her as she is standing there waiting for me and I can’t help but feel daggers.

I screw the lid on, smile, set it back down as she seems to urgently need it back.

I walk over to the mead bar area, which is a full set up of a giant bar inside of this bee store. “Are you going to sit down?”

“No, I just wanted to try some mead.” Am I mumbling?

‘It’s ten dollars for a flight of …..” She shoves a menu in my direction.

“I just wanted to taste it thanks bye.” BITCH. Wow. I had money to burn in my pockets, I was all chatty and happy and she was all snarly and mean.

If some of you have businesses and you wonder why sales are down, it might be because you have annoying, cunty people working for you.

I then went to The Peppercorn – an amazing shop full of anything to do with food, eating, cooking and kitchens. Three times I stood at the knife counter…picking up knife books…looking at prices, meandering around the knife area like it was candy. Back over to the cookbooks, back over to the knives. Then I hear a dude talking to an older gentleman at the knife counter all about how those knives are made. I’m in the middle of a recipe of a book I am holding and I just see this and keep reading. Weird. I stood over there forever. ANOTHER man is standing there for four seconds and another employee addresses him immediately.

I guess only men buy knives. I mean I was pulling out all the cool knife carrying bags, looking at knife books, flipping knives around to find the prices. Then I milled around the store some more and I’d come back.

I chose a knife, chose a book and walked around some more. Saw another man get helped at the knife counter and it just hit me – I don’t need to give this place my money. It’s as invisible here as I am. BYEEEEEE. I set everything down and left. About $80 worth. Yes I could have said I NEED HELP – but this is how this went down, I’m just reporting my experience. Fuck them,

I wasn’t angry…I am just realizing my own value and how others do not. Toodle loo.

I then went to the Boulder Book Store. I cozied up in a chair, I asked for help in finding some stuff, I read some books and chose a nutrition book and a Japanese to English translation book.

I’m on the verge of possibly being hired as a chef in training at a Japanese restaurant. Needless to say, an opportunity of a lifetime for a middle aged white lady. He sees me. In the interview, the owner conducted BTW…

(I went to an interview a few days before that the owner had set up, but sent a grunt to interview me…while he sat at the bar eating and drinking—see…I researched the place, I knew he was the owner, I loved that he’s built this up from a food cart on the mall to a brick and mortar. But he could not be bothered. The kid interviewing me said “I think you’d be a great fit’ I’m like ‘based on what? I’m a warm body?’ He didn’t even have my resume in front of him. The owner did come over, but just to take a poster out of the window and hit this guy on the head with it and also completely ignore me and never look at me or acknowledge me. BYEEEEEEEEEEE. Have fun with hiring warm bodies.)

So the Japanese owner is interviewing me. He has opened a restaurant at 62, I tell him I am inspired by him. I am 52 and pursuing a new career as well. The GM is there too, he is suspicious of my resume and short times at each place. I tell him yes, this is true. There are two places on there owned by the same people and it was me just trying to gain experience and find the right environment. Trying to break into a new career is hard. I was doing hair at the time of this change. I now want to be challenged and do something besides burgers and pizza.

I am to go back tomorrow to meet the current chef and see how that goes. ‘She is about your age too.’ I am so elated to hear this. I raise my fists in celebration. He tells me he has to talk to other people, and I have to meet Akemi but can I start next Wed? YES. I say.

I am already picturing myself there. I have purchased a Japanese to English Bilingual Dictionary with pictures. I’m visual. I fantasize being asked to move to Japan to run a restaurant. My delusions of grandeur or am I manifesting? I don’t know. I am trying to enjoy life and go on adventures. I am trying to be positive and realistic about my expectations. This will be challenging. It will be hard. I will be judged constantly. I will be expected to be a manager and to run the kitchen. I said ‘Why are you hiring someone with no experience in Japanese cooking?’ They said they have their recipes and they want them followed with no changes. When someone has their own training they have their own ideas and they don’t make the food how it should be made. This is true. They also said they will happily collaborate on new ideas but not with things already on the menu. I respect this and always have. Even when I was making sandwiches and pizza. The customer should get the same product no matter what time or day they come in-no matter who is in the kitchen. It builds confidence in the whole dining experience. I think he liked that.

I interview great. I do not lie or charm. If its not a good fit we all need to know this right away.

This is going to be incredible and life changing if this is happening, It’s truly a huge giant fluke to be honest. I quit my seemingly other DREAM JOB that turned into a virtual doctrinating nightmare of a process into the non profit cult world and two days later this comes up. I know it will be hard. Everyone in the kitchen is young, male and Japanese. They all speak Japanese in the kitchen. I have everything to gain but it will be a challenge. Like the food labels? My poor eyesight…I need new glasses…my grief brain…all of it. I am ready for this I think. I’m trying to be real.

I will be learning how to make beautiful Japanese food. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. He said his last chef is moving to China to open his second restaurant he is opening there. This is happening.

I am going to another interview this morning, just to stay open and not lose opportunities if THIS one doesn’t happen. I will be a stage at a kind of fancy place that also has a female chef. I said I was excited about that and she was all ‘meh’ and told me I would be working with Patrick and interview with her later. I will be a grunt, everyone will be watching me and every move I make and reporting back to the chef. It is stressful. I can only do what I can do. I have one knife.

I’m 52 years old.

This is happening.

Where most people think women belong.

Where I think women belong.
This is Chelsea Miller. She MAKES KNIVES.
She’s a badass.
I want a Chelsea Miller knife.

I Can Be This Broke Anywhere

If I’m gonna be broke, I want to be broke all over the world.

And the best way to follow your dreams is start living them in the present moment. I will be a visitor and traveler everywhere I go. I no longer wait for adventures I create them. I have everything to gain. I might just be down the street sometimes but Boulder is a huge destination place and people from all the world come here; and I live here. If I’m going to work and save my money, I’m gonna save it so I can travel around the world.

I did it in my 20s and I have missed it immensely ever since. Back then someone paid my way and now I’m going to do it myself. Especially since a lot of the bloggers and ‘influencers’ (new word) now are very young; when I go out by myself all over town I see women doing the same thing that are my age or older, we want to travel alone too. I want to influence that! An old broad abroad.

Especially now; in this year (months) of grieving so heavily and feeling like I don’t have any fears because the worst thing to happen already took place. Anthony will travel with me sometimes! He’s a great adventurer and will pretty much do anything. And traveling alone is awesome too. I was on a little roll last year and had previously promised myself I would go somewhere every three months and I did it and I miss it and I want it back.

I have a job now that allows me time off when school is out and I would like to work my way into a place to live where I don’t have to pay so much rent and be out of town whenever school is out.

Ideally, Airbnb was awesome but the landlord crashed down pretty hard on that and it got kaboshed. So I will just hang out here until my lease runs out in May then I will figure out what I’m doing (for the rest of my life it seems) and in the meantime, I’ll run around town writing up places I go in Boulder. In December I’ll be in San Diego in March I’m planning a trip, in June I’m planning a trip, in September I’m planning a trip and I’m just gonna stay on this roll in this little bubble of mine where everything I want already exists.❤️😇💛

Living With Sad

You put it in the car with you when you are going to the movies. You tell it:  be quiet now, we are going to have fun it is OK for us to have fun please just sit here I will get back to you later.

You sit across from it while you are eating dinner. You tell it: We are eating dinner now I have to eat. It’s OK for me to enjoy things like cheese sauce and chocolate chips. You are going to have to wait. I cannot cry while I swallow food.

Some days it gets to have all of your time and you cry and cry and cry without a care in the world because no one is around or someone you love very much is around and you both share your time with this Sad and then you get to move on for a moment.

And it is moment by moment like this. You aren’t running from it, you aren’t all consumed by it, it is part of you; it is your partner, it is your new soulmate and it is your new annoying friend because it opens a window for you to see the world so much differently than you ever saw it before.

Photo by Jody Fausett – AMAZING ARTIST!!!

collageart/painting by me💛

Part of Healing

Besides crying everywhere I go in an uncontrollable manner, as if I am so used to it, as if I have allergies, as if like it is just a part of me, as if I have always been this way; I’ve been delving more into art and creativity. The real world is so full of pain, I have created a place of peace and quiet in having peace and quiet.

In this place of peace I have found a strength in Savannah wherein usually resides severe, black, empty sorrow. It just doesn’t feel right to have that energy around her. She did not fill the space of that. Her body did, her suffering did but her soul and the peace she conveyed in living her life did not. Now she has this soft, gentle voice of encouragement and love about her that resonates more deeply with me.

If I go into the past I am in pain. I miss her immensely in this human world. I have my own past of pain, so much so that working through it all, I find that I don’t want to be here most days. My better self keeps me here and keeps me trudging along. My son keeps me here, my friends, my family I have made.

I will be writing more but keeping more private at the same time.

Here are some fresh berries and my morning coffee.

Live or Die: Part One

So, people often tell me that I’m being very strong. And I appreciate that, I do not want to take that away from anybody. But the only reason I seem strong is because I keep living. I figure I have two choices: live or die. And with each one of those choices comes the question: well…how? You want to die? Ok, How? You want to live? How? And every time I think I just want to die, I can’t figure out how. I can’t leave my son, that would be the shittiest thing in the world to do to somebody especially right now. I think about just laying in bed and eventually dying but that would take so long and I can’t stand it. Everything else is just too painful i.e. walking into traffic, driving off a cliff. So then I decide to live. And again the question of how comes up.

If I curl up in bed for days; that’s not living. Lately I’ve been coming home from work in the afternoon and going to bed. Again, not living. I keep thinking of Savannah and what she would probably give to still be here and that doing something as simple as walking in the sunshine would be amazing to her. Getting ice cream, being able to call a friend. Sometimes I do those things. But I am still stuck with figuring out how am I supposed to find reasons to live and reasons to find life wonderful at this worst time in my life. I don’t get it. Then there are the thoughts that drive the idea that somehow she has released me more than ever to be able to do just that. How can that be? That sounds terrible. By having the worst thing in the world happen to me I am now left with the least of my fears and worries and cares. When before I was afraid to be kind and gentle and vulnerable, I now walk into it like it’s nothing. I’m not trying to prove myself to anyone when I feel like I spent a lot of time doing that in the past. Why don’t I write a novel? Lead a women’s retreat weekend? Ride my bike for no reason around town listening to music? It’s like everything is possible right now and it doesn’t make sense.

It’s almost like the best thing I can do right now is to not make sense of anything; trying to make sense of this makes things worse. And even in my brain, when I go back in time, looking for when I want to bring Savannah back and when would I do that? I can’t find the time to bring her back into because she would have to be a different person because if I had her come back I would want her to come back without pain; she was in so much pain. I would want her to have different parents and different situations and all the glory she deserved and to be friends with Andrew Rannells. ❤️

I wanted all of that for her in this lifetime.

It wasn’t going to be.

So here I am.

Being strong.

How?

How do I make my life?

How do I make a life worth living? Oh my god that is the fucking question that that drove her in rehab. Make a life worth living. It was their  motto. Ironically.

And now here I am asking myself THAT question.

I’ll tell you how I did it today.

1. I got up early and meditated and cleared my mind.

2. I got dressed I grabbed my books and paints so I can do something after work without going home – so I don’t go to bed.

3. I came to work. I cried.

4. I set up breakfast for the boys. (I cook for a frat house.)  I cried.

5. I made myself a smoothie.

6. I’m writing in this blog. Crying.

7. The boys are coming down and saying ‘Good morning!’. And ‘Thank you’. And ‘Have a good day’. And ‘I’ll see you later Judy’. Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

And so I am still here.

I clear my mind and clear my mind and clear my mind. I stay focused on what is right in front of me. I need to plan lunch and organize the kitchen for that. I plan a little bit ahead so I can stay focused on the positive. And as weird as it sounds, Savannah did give this to me. By her living her whole life the way she did, she showed me how to be brave and strong and fight for my dreams. And it’s crazy and it doesn’t make sense and I can’t explain it and I’m mad at her for leaving me here and I’m mad she didn’t accomplish her dreams because she could have.

I’m at the point now where the story could end with: ‘Judy was never the same after her daughter died. I could drink my way into oblivion and just die a lonely, isolated death. I could just keep my head down and work. I could shut off and disappear. It would be very simple. In a way, I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME and that is the crazy gift. I’m just changing who I turn into instead of letting it turn me into something. I was already bitter and angry and drinking and fighting with the world. Now I’m making my world. It blew up in my face and I get to make it whatever the fuck I want right now.

I can’t shake the fact that there’s possibly something bigger at work here. I’m too goddamn stubborn to let it go. Whatever it is. I’m just trying to get out of my own way. This ‘something bigger’ DOES know, so I’ll just ride my bike and hang out.

So, I’m strong, because I’m stubborn.

It’s frustrating. And freeing and insanity.

It’s Happening

Everyone with experience in grief has told me about this time. The time where the funeral is over and everyone gets back to their lives. It is isolating and devastating to not only deal with this grief, but to also be isolated. Everyone is ‘afraid’ of you. You are the representation of everyone’s worst nightmare. You are terrifying to everyone. So everyone ignores you. They see you and say, ‘Hey! How are you?’ And I answer, ‘I’m good, how are you?’ Like a liar. Like they asked and took no thought.

Even if they know, they don’t mention ANYTHING.

Strangers whom I tell my story to are kinder than some of the people who know me.

A man at work who can barely speak english said it best: “I’m so sorry. I don’t feel that. I don’t want to feel that.” I was trying to make work the place where I am not THAT lady. The Sad Lady Who’s Daughter Died. I’m just the lady who works in the kitchen with all the 20 year olds. I told two people there. People I thought have actual life experience. I was just looking for a picture of my bike and my daughter popped up. I wasn’t going to tell him. Then I began crying. His whole faced changed. There is no language barrier for compassion.

One of the other people I told is a guy who just got out of prison. He’d been in for six years. All of his youth. He is forthright about his life right now and I can’t handle chit chat. And I was on the verge of tears all day and unfocused. It was just me and him in the kitchen and I blurted it out. He immediately hugged me. And when we stopped he was crying.

He is actually probably a very unlikely person for me to open up to and have a bond with. He was a drug dealer. But he is very young and trying very hard to start his life over and live a different life. Just like me. He said, “I’m so sorry. You will get through this.” Then I bawled. No one came around the corner, no one walked in, we had this moment. Every once in a while he will walk by and just pat my back. Savannah always championed the people who were harshly judged. I am the same. We are the bungled and the botched.

We’ve had many conversations as oddly enough, we are on the same path. The path of What Do I Do Now? Trying to find a life. Learning. Being adults among children at this job that is possibly saving OUR lives while the others are those who have everything handed to them and paid for by their parents. Complaining that they don’t make enough to wipe down a window.

He is worried about his sister. People tell him they have inspired them to change their lives. Yet he knows he is one phone call away from going right back into his old life. I see my daughter in him, I see my struggling in life in him, I see a person just in the world trying to do good. He is covered in tattoos and has a baby face. He is trying to take care of his loved ones. He’s had a hard, beat up, life against him life. I am on his side. I am rooting for him and he is rooting for me. I like it when I walk in and see him. We see each other.

I am not invisible.

There are some people whom I want to be invisible to and some people I can’t believe that they have cloaked me. I am walking around dragging boulders of grief and pain but I am walking around and they see me and when they don’t say one goddamned thing, I instantly know they do not live in my world. They are not my people, and they drop off the face of the earth.

The people who have showed up in my world, carry me, lift me, check on me, call me, have me over for lunch. Again, strangers have been kinder. I’m like the kid in the cafeteria no one wants to sit by. The people I am gathering around me now, are like all of my Androcules. I am the lion. The thorn in my paw is being mended by compassion and care from the most unexpected people.

The true colors of other people have left me abandoned and shocked. But Ce La Vie. I have to move on. To stay in that is to die.

I am producing art. I am painting, drawing, working, crying, cleaning, bathing, sleeping, drinking, eating and walking around inside of this pain. Yet Savannah is right here. I can only see that if I do NOT do this task of life, and make it amazing, her life was for not. Naught? Either way, I am trying to THRIVE. I’ve spent the last 20 years in survival mode. I am done with that. That’s what prompted me to move to Boulder and start over. Then she died. So how do I start from there? It’s rock bottom. I have to MAKE myself bathe, brushing my teeth is on an accomplishment list. I am grateful for clean hair and that my legs work and that the sun rises. Other days I hate the sun.

I am making my life mine. I don’t think I have ever done that. I say I have been doing it, but standing where I stand now, completely lost of everything familiar, my soul mate, my son far away, in a new town, with so much change; I am now just starting.

IMG_20180808_120615

Well, I Got Enough

The attorney has been called, the papers are being e-filed. Everything goes down tomorrow. Now what I am sitting with is: with all the steam going out of THAT focus, I have realized the real focus and more steam.  It’s not his life I am mad at for him not controlling it. It’s me for not getting control of mine.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

For the last thirty years I have re-invented myself over and over. Now I don’t know what to do. Just be myself? Who the fuck is that? I will be 50 in three months. Focusing on Boyfriend and his issues seemed so easy.  JUST SIGN THAT SHIT.  All he has to do is sign papers and give people money.  It’s very straightforward. It’s also very laid out before you in a flowchart. (I am not demeaning his fear of the unknown with what divorce is.  I get it. And she is a cunt from hell.)  I feel like a baby.  I don’t know what I want.  I don’t know what work I like or Thing I want to pursue. Or what Avenue of Interest Will Then Create This New Life Thingy. People work three jobs and put kids through college. My kids didn’t want college.  I worked three jobs, for ten years.  I still have nothing.  What’s the point? I don’t even know what I NEED to get control of let alone care. Focusing on HIS life was easy.

P.S.- I might be coming in here a lot. I discover what is going on by having to write it down or work it out in words or the words TELL me. So bear with me.

Cleaning houses makes me cry. Feeling THAT makes me feel like jerk.  People work at shitty jobs all the time so they can have nice things.  I’m not motivated by that. I used to be. I provided for the kids and worked regular jobs and paid for shit for 20 years.  What if I don’t care anymore? Which makes me feel broken or weird or like I don’t get something everyone else gets. Just work and save money you idiot. It’s in the Flowchart of Life.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

And I think I am just going to keep doing that.

I will not re-invent anything for once.  I will sit with this.  I will probably stop cleaning and just go to my cook job and worry that I am making some big mistake and then I won’t worry about that after a while.  I will just live and walk and breathe and quit trying so hard to Be Someone or Change Things.

I don’t know what I want.

That feels weird. I always knew. Then I always went after it.  Now I’m just sitting here. I like the cooking job, I like the people, its a little family which is something I missed.  I like that I don’t act like a regular 50 year old.  I sort of like not caring. It seems like I’m depressed but really that is just the absence of chaos. You get so used to it and then its quiet and it seems like something is wrong, but nothing is wrong. It’s just you NOT in drama.

Weird.

beach_reading_c

 

Just Can’t Get Enough

THIS is the blog I feel I can actually spill my guts in.  I started it a few years ago then my judgy mean family found it and I felt vulnerable and sad about that.  Then I’ve spent the last few years just trying to BE SOMEONE who is Doing Something.  I started many other blogs, facebook pages and twitter accounts.

NO ONE CARES.

But I still need to write and I still care and this is how I express myself so here I am.  Just me.  Hi.

I am struggling with finding peace.  Isn’t that funny?  I quit going to all of the things and places that I went to to run away from chaos and now I’m just stuck here in myself.  I pulled my work load back, to cleaning two or three days a week instead of 3-4 houses a day.  I got a job cooking a a little dive bar just to switch things up and be part of something because cleaning alone for three years became very isolating.  I did stand up comedy for a year and discovered I’m funny, but just not ambitious enough nor do I want to be on Jimmy Fallon, I just liked it a lot and in doing that, I was not in the club.  Hanging out at bars for hours also didn’t help.  I moved in with my boyfriend who is not divorced, separated for 2 years so I saw a yellow brick road of sorts and jumped into Stepmom role immediately with his three YOUNG kids.  I am now exhausted and worn out and he still has to file for divorce.  DOORMAT meet BRICK WALL of despair.

I’m torn between getting all over him about getting this shit done, ‘helping’ him and ‘supporting’ him with getting SHIT TURNED IN FOR FUCKING CHRIST’S SAKE and just realizing this is HIS experience, not mine and dropping it all together.  But it IS my experience and not in a controlling way but in a I ALSO LIVE IN THE SPACE OF YOU AND YOUR DIVORCE way.  I’m baffled.  I want to move out, I have no money, no credit, no way to get a place and the guy loves me more than anyone and I can’t imagine my life without him, but imagining it LIKE THIS is killing me.  This is mind numbingly piss poor sad.  I try to live my own life within these confines and go on walks and meditate and cook amazing food and try and take care of how I want MY life to be not HIS, but I keep getting worked into this corner. I made my job smaller so my life could be bigger and I’m so confused as to how much I let someone else’s life upset mine.

fuck.

So I made an oatmeal yogurt overnight breakfast thingy.  My car is dead in the garage.  Boyfriend needs another wrench to get to the problem. I meditated and I hate his fucking wife so much and am so mad he did not get up and to to the courthouse TODAY to get this rolling after a phone call from his attorney last night.  I am baffled and fuck my fucking yogurt. Am I mad he is not doing the things I THINK HE SHOULD DO or am I mad HE JUST SIMPLY ISN’T DOING THINGS.  It took him a year and a half to get an attorney after being manipulated and trampled on by this cunt…so I don’t foresee this movin’ along.

Then I bounce back to me and doing yoga and making smoothies and then I snap.

This is truly ridiculous.

What’s that saying?  When you expect something different from something the same….YER A RETARD????  fuck.

Ah…here it is…

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

– Albert Einstein

There ya go.  Thanks Buddy.

Albert-Einstein jpg

New Year, Same Old You

Ha ha!! I just get tired of ‘NEW YEAR NEW YOU’ on every magazine, poster, and ad. Like we are all supposed to re-vamp our entire lives. I have resolutions every day ya’lls. I like the new year though. It feels like NEWNESS. Like I want to participate in being new. Especially after LAST YEAR. Holy Cripes.

So our cleaning biz is going good and we are very busy.  We are actually making money and we are registering a business name and opening a bank account and shit!! yay!! I still want to figure out a way to not work so friggin’ hard.  So I thought I’d lose 45 pounds. I figure that if I am in better shape I can do this kind of work longer. Really though, when all is said and done, we work about 20 hours a week and make pretty good money. We had a couple house sitting/cat sitting/dog sitting jobs over the holiday and that rocked!!  But when I am on my knees so much and lifting stuff (and breaking people’s dishes and knick knacks)it gets rough and it is as these times that I wish I had gone to college.

I made this.
I made this.

I am also crocheting tiny hats for any one who would like to order one.  They are for any tiny items in your home that might need hats.

Pot is legal here now.

My brother is having a baby.  (Well, his wife is.)

I recently spent 6 hours in Ikea.

I have not drank alcohol for one day and I want a drink.

I’m not having a drink.

I posted a video of myself jumping in a freezing cold river on New Year’s Day on facebook and I’m super fat and I don’t care.  LOOK AT THOSE THUNDER THIGHS EVERYONE.  I love not posting only perfect pics.

So my laptop broke, I only have our desktop and my Samsung camera which has tablet capabilities…and I will be posting much, much more as I miss it so much and need to write.

I want to write a friggin’ novel already.  Sheesh.

This is more a list of ITEMS that really pertain to NOTHING.  They are not resolutions.

My son is moving to Wisconsin in March.

My daughter is probably moving back home.

I need to take my Grandma to Vegas.

That is all for today.

I will see you all soon and happy fricken new year lovelies!!!

More Nesting

Well, Friday job hunting seemed like a miracle.  I go in for a second interview at an awesome salon on Tuesday.  So send love for that one!!  I WANT THAT ONE.  I have to do a cut and color on someone.  Here’s the miracle part to just that tiny part of the day.  I met my aunt after the interview at a restaurant nearby.  The woman she was having dinner with was total game for getting some foils and hair cut.  I called the salon and we are booked for Tuesday so the owner can see my work and see HOW I work.

Later I found out this woman is probably one of the richest people in the city as she is family in a GIANT pharmaceutical company.  If this works out, she’s my client and she tells everyone she knows why her hair looks so great.  THANK YOU UNIVERSE.

The other places I went, I got two calls on my resume’s when I was about half a block away.  I went back for one interview already.  One was supposed to call me back today, and did not.  I will call THEM ask about it tomorrow as he acted like it was a sure thing.  I am a tenacious little cuss.  I wanna know the deal.

Image

Today I cleaned my room out even more.  I feel like TODAY, I moved in.  I got rid of a BUNCH of stuff, have about three trash bags and six boxes for Goodwill that I left out in the alley for any one to take.  They are probably worse off than me if they are dumpster diving.  I considered taking what’s left to book shops and vintage shops to see if I can get any money…we’ll see.  I have all day tomorrow to figure that out.

I go through fits of panic.  Then I go through fits of complete and utter calm that of course everything will be just fine.  Things will be just as they should.  If I just shut my brain off I do much better.

This is what I am doing.  I am doing this.  I want to build up the hair career.  I feel that finally, after six years, I am understanding what that means.  I am understanding the leap I have to take to make it work.  I want to work part time at a restaurant while I do this.  It is very simple.  I can do this.  The universe cracked wide open for me on Friday.  I talked about this

That when you open up to complete and possible SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS and follow what is before you, the universe sets out a red carpet for you and life really is very simple.  When you struggle and scratch and scrape, you are on the wrong path.  Sometimes you don’t know it.  You just think things ‘have to’ be ‘hard’.  They don’t.  It doesn’t mean don’t have goals and don’t strive and don’t work hard, but you shouldn’t be holding on for dear life.  Follow your inner most voice, go where it leads you, give up ALL control, follow this windy path, and it OPENS UP LIKE THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD.  It is scary but it is not scary all at the same time.

My EX BOSS is threatening to hold my check.  This is illegal.  But she CAN hold it for 30 days if she wants to.  I don’t have the time or the money for anything ‘legal’ to fight for, she is a C WORD…she is in the wrong, she is my mother and my EX and wants to stomp me down because I am strong and an individual and not a cog and will never sit down and shut up and called her on her illegal shit.  I got out of a place she is trapped in.  I just have to not feed that situation any energy.  I will win.

I mapped out some perspective jobs from Craigslist and some places I just randomly popped into.  I saw a horoscope that stated ‘When looking for a book, you may discover that you were in fact looking for the book next to it.” Italian writer Roberto Calasso told that to The Paris Review, and now I’m passing it on to you. But I’d like you to expand upon its meaning, and regard it as a metaphor that applies to your whole life right now. Every time you go searching for a specific something — a learning experience, an invigorating pleasure, a helpful influence — consider the possibility that what you really want and need is a different one that’s nearby.’

So that’s what I am doing right now.  Maybe the thing NEARBY the thing I THINK I need, is what I truly need.  I am not shutting down to all possibilities. I am not taking any old desperate thing either.  One interview, the guy was such a douchebag, I cried in my car all the way home.  (And emailed Maggie who talked me off the ledge.) GOOD INDICATION OF WHY I WOULD NOT WANT TO WORK THERE.  I am paying attention.  I am present.  I am un-employed and looking for a job, that is all I am doing.  I have mad skillz y’alls.  I’m going to use them to my best advantage.

I love where I am living.  I love the city.  I love it that my son is down here too.  I want my daughter to move down here.  I love my life.  I love who is in it.  I love what I do.  I love the time spent with Boyfriend as it is not all encompassing and crazy love like that which I am used to.  Life is not crazy.

Life is life.

Image