Exciting times

First, I was informed today that I have been promoted into a new position at my job!! Yayy! This totally unexpected. The company has been downsizing and tightening up pursestrings lately; in fact, one of our satellite clinics is scheduled for closure tomorrow and the staff and clients will be informed for the first time then. So, if I gave any thought to changes in my future employment, it would have been that I would be getting a pink slip soon given that I've been working here less than 6 months.

The new position will involve me creating a new department from the ground up and possibly having at least some say in the people that will be working with me. I've got to tie up some loose ends in my current position, but will be able to start in my new post in about 2 weeks.

Second, my playa card was revoked this morning. I had a golden opportunity to make my intentions known to my current crush last night. . . and I blew it! He unexpectedly showed up at my house with some other friends, and I found that I could not wrap two words together to sjay to him. Dumbstruck!! He even gave me an opening by hanging back after the other friends were moving to the car and I just stood there and smiled, like an idiot. My co-worker is the one who revoked the card,

"Not you??!! What about all that clever, funny stuff you be telling ME to say? Uh-uh. . . I'm taking it back."

Well, the only thing I can say in my own defense is that I was totally taken off guard at his appearance, and something about seeing him in my home space was . . . I don't even have the words. Oh, well. . . I did get a nice hug though ;-)

Third, my son sang in the Children's choir yesterday and did his mama PROUD! He was the only one singing directly into the microphone and doing all of the choreographed hand gestures they had been taught. You know I took a ton of pictures, right? Please indulge this mama for just a moment. (That's my Heart and Soul in the blue striped shirt).












And finally, somewhere in the next 24 to 48 hours, I should hear something about the short story I submitted to a local magazine contest. Please keep me in your prayers!!

Complex characters

I am an observer of human nature, increasingly so lately, I suppose, as I'm trying to gain some clarity in order to more realistically "draw" characters in my writing. I tend to examine not only the people around me, but myself as well; examining behavior, wondering about motivations and fears. While I may never fully know the in's and outs, or wherefores, hows and whys of why people do the things that they do I am coming to understand that people are a lot more complex and deeper than most realize.

I'll take myself as an example: people experience me differently depending on the context of our encounter and the nature of our relationship. For example, the person that I present at work or to the world at large, is different from the one that my son experiences. I display another aspect of me to my family of origin and close friends. Even the person that I know or think I know myself to be, is different from the person the average person thinks they know. They are all me, not fake. But one cannot fully understand WHO I am based on my behavior or responses in one setting. I am neither of those aspects alone, but the real me is the combination of all of those faces and personas.

In my head, I picture myself as kind, compassionate, loving, loyal. I do my best to treat people fairly; I'm not a gossip, and I refuse to let people downgrade or insult the innocent or helpless in my presence. But, there are times, when I hear horrible words emerge from my mouth, or I'll respond so coldly to the wrong person at the wrong time, that I make Scarface look lukewarm. I know that most people have private and public faces; some more ugly than others. The sweetest person can behave in the most ugly of ways if approached on the wrong day and time; this duality is simply the nature of man.

Mad Men, a new original drama series on cable's AMC's, that I've spoken of before here, is a fine example of some writer's attempt to capture the richness of human complexity. I have a love/hate relationship with several of the characters on this show. I have been drawn into their lives and experience them as familiar people. Several of these characters, at least on first glance are reprehensible. Don Draper, one of the lead characters is an old school misogynist. He regularly and routinely cheats on his wife, he comes and goes as he feels like it, with little apparent regard for the people around him. He considers women to be his reward for his hard work, and for Don, there is a clear delineation between women you marry and women you f#*k!

And just as you are about to dismiss him as a rat, you observe his acts of kindness to underdogs. He adores his children and is a loving father. He speaks kindly and respectfully to the black janitors and waiters who serve him, talking to them as people, not as invisible arms and legs. He rescues one of his single, female staffers who becomes pregnant. And on one occasion, threatens to physically hurt a man who was making a bawdy joke in the presence of a middle aged woman in an elevator. Yes, he can behave like a pig, but unless you're looking carefully, you might miss the humanity behind this facade.

Now, I recognize that this program is drama, the reflection of one or a group of people's imaginings, however, there is truth here, like in the adage, 'Art Imitates Life'. I recognize the truth that I need to infuse into the characters I write. But I can also see the value in holding this truth close in my day to day interactions with others. It doesn't make sense to make global judgments about people based on one or two isolated incidents. These will not fully define the person you're looking at. The answer, like the question is much more complex.

Heart Problems

I am a nerd. Always have been.

I was that kid in grade school that you popular kids teased and hated, because I always had my homework done, on time. I completed assignments early, and then asked for extra work. I remember spending my entire 8th and 9th grade years sneaking fiction and romance novels to school, reading from 7:30 am to 2:15 pm, all through lunch, appearing not to listen to a word that was being spoken in class and STILL making straight A's.

I was the kid whose parent's took them out of the public school setting and enrolled into a preparatory boarding school more than eight hours away from home at the tender age of 13. Not because I was a behavioral problem, but because the teachers and counselors convinced my parents that I was not being stimulated in a regular setting.

I loved school. I loved books. I loved learning new things and challenging myself intellectually. I loved talking to other like minded kids about esoteric or obscure philosophies and memorizing useless bits of trivia just so I could insert them into day to day conversation. At one point, I went to the dictionary each week to look for a new word that I could use. Not to prove that I was smarter than everyone else, but for the joy of hearing those $50 words passing through my 14 and 15 year old lips.

School was my place of escape. While at school, I could forget about the foolishness and dysfunction taking place in my home. At school, I was smart, articulate, confident, knowledgeable, and even witty, in a nerdy kind of way.

At home, I was an outcast. "You think you're better than everybody else." "You trying to be "white". "You ain't nuthin' but a n ___, and when you get through with all that education, you still gon be a n____." I heard about all the things I could never do. At home, I was schooled that the best I'd be able to do was to go to business school, get hired on at a factory or perhaps even at the community colleges as a secretary, and hope for a man who didn't beat me. Heck, the only reason I was supposed to go to college was to snare a husband!

Books became as close to me as friends. If I had a problem, I could always find a solution in a book. Barring that, books provided me a place of refuge or escape. At school and in my books, the only limitations on my future were those of my imagination. And my imagination is where I lived.

In my books and imaginings, I could ride horses, travel to foreign lands, meet wealthy princes and marry a man named Jared. The Artist Formerly Known as Prince was supposed to be "my baby daddy. I knew EXACTLY how and when it was going to happen too! Freddy Mercury and I were gonna have an illicit affair until I discovered I was not built for the kind of speed he was interested in. Who knew? I went on safari in Africa and fell madly in love with my guide, who also just 'happened' to be a prince. (See a theme here?)

I have escaped inside my head to avoid conflict and misery for most of my life. This survival strategy helped me to cope with a difficult childhood. However, the more I tried to escape, the more misery that was pored on my head. Remember the books? I came home one afternoon to find that my mother had thrown away close to 100 of my books into the dumpster. She was angry with me over some minor thing that I can't remember now. I was hysterical! She couldn't have hurt me more if she had made me walk over hot coals. Fortunately, my uncle came by for a visit and, finding me inconsolable, made her give them back.

When stressed, I want to escape. I want to pretend, just for a little while that I am somewhere and someone else. However, when I do this now all I get is more chaos and confusion. It's not working anymore.

So, the nerd is back at work again, plotting and planning how to confront and take on life stressors as they come rather than running away from them. I know I can do it. I've always been able to accomplish whatever I set my mind and imagination to. I've already started my research, collecting books and reading articles online; seeking out ways to solve my current dilemma.

But here's the thing: while I am confident and comfortable in my intellect and in applying logic to difficult problems, I don't think I"m going to be able to reason this one through. This isn't a head problem, it's a heart problem and it is in THIS arena that I am a functional retard.

Stress is a mutha!!

This has been a strange couple weeks for me. My emotions are all over the place, I have been eating myself out of house and home (slowly growing INTO a house) and have very little tolerance for B.S. It's hard for me to settle my mind for long, which means that I've now got 4 or 5 projects going on at once and none of them near completion.

I feel badly enough when I snap off at grown folk, but I feel like a total heel for my OVER-response to my son's minor infraction over the weekend. I've got some making up to do this evening.

My sleep is totally out of whack; I've been waking up every hour on the hour, with bad dreams and night sweats.

Oh, did I mention that I was eating everything in the house and the refrigerator at work? Oh, I did? My bad.

My co-worker's solution? Lexapro. Nah, I don't think so. At least, not yet.

What I need to do is settle myself down and deal with each of my relatively minor stressors, one at a time. I'm trying to look at the whole thing en masse and it is stressing me the hell out!

Is there a full moon?

Thought for the Day

I dwell in possibility...

Emily Dickinson

US poet

(1830 - 1886)

I'm trying to work it out

If I can borrow an idea from a new blogging buddy, I'm going to use this space to work through some things I have going on in my head. For the last two years, I have felt like God was leading me to a crossroad. I am supposed to change something in my life, but for the life of me, I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

I have taken control over several out of control aspects of my life during this time. One of the more recent decisions was to begin therapy for our family. My weight has gotten SERIOUSLY out of control and about 3 months ago, I started running again. In January this year, I resumed guitar lessons and can actually start making music on that instrument instead of just noise. And I've started writing again; hence the blog. In fact, last week, I submitted a short story to a fiction writing contest with a $1000 first prize. Please keep your fingers crossed on that one. This was a MAJOR accomplishment for me, even though it is just a short story. I have THOUGHT about entering this contest since 2003 and I've only JUST gotten around to producing something (and completed in 2.5 weeks, by the way). I started writing fiction about the time I started talking, according to my family, however, I have let the burdens of adulthood pull me away from this creative outlet, and I think that may be part of the reason I went in and out of depression for awhile: no release.

Anyway, I feel myself coming alive again. Colors are brighter, sounds are sharper and my vision has cleared, yada, yada, yada, all of that sentimental, cliched nonsense. The more I explore this side of me, the more I want to do. I am constantly thinking about how to include workouts into my already overworked schedule and getting annoyed when something prevents me from getting on my treadmill. My guitar instructor keeps reminding me not to get discouraged that I can't play like him . . . YET!! I haven't received any feedback about my short story, of course, and yet I'm already outlining the next one and searching for other contests to enter. It doesn't matter to me what those judges think. I did the best I could and the product I produced pleased me. (I ain't gon lie though; that check would be quite sweet!). But for now, my pleasure in doing it is more than enough for me.

So, I don't know where I'm going with any of this. This meaning this post, my life, my music, my writing. As I said, I'm trying to get it clear in my head. You know that feeling you get when you want to express something, and the thought or word is just on the tip of your tongue? Well, that's where I am right now.

It's all about our choices

I had a couple recent conversations with friends that to me, illustrate the long term impact of some of the choices we make each day. One friend started off telling me about spending the entire weekend in bed, crying, eating every and anything in sight, forgetting about personal hygiene, in other words, acute depression. She was grieving the sudden death of a close friend. And while my friend suffered in her misery, her HUSBAND, spent the entire day, in the same house, NOT talking to her and loudly, poorly, playing a saxophone in the next room. Another friend shared about meeting "the perfect man"; she described how comfortable they were from the beginning "he SAW me!", she proclaimed. The more time they spent together, the more this felt "right." For once, he seemed to be just as into her as she was into him. The problem? Well, he was 15 years her junior. "I don't want people laughing at me behind my back, calling me a cradle robber!", my friend sobbed, even as she informed me that she was ending the relationship. A couple years ago, I lived in a different state ; my grandmother suffered a stroke and eventually was placed in a nursing home; her prognosis was guarded. I was facing a crossroad at the time, career wise, and made the choice to return to my home state. As I adjusted to my move, I made a point to spend as much time as possible with my grandmother. During this time, we shared and talked about things I had always been too busy to talk about before. This old woman has always been the one person I knew who "got" me!! I loved her, love her, with all my heart, and I was able to tell her that. . . I'm glad I can write this now, because, she died within 2 months of my return. I miss her still but when I think of her, it's with peace and joy for the final days we spent together.



It's about our choices!! Had I chosen to remain where I was or move to a different state, I would have missed this time with my granny. My friend is living with a insensitive clod and dreaming about the guy she let get away, "the love of my life"! And my other friend has just possibly thrown away her treasure. We are not promised anything more than right now, this minute. We should make the most of it and live life to the fullest. Careers, what other people think about us, material possessions, none of these things help to fulfill our purpose, only love and connections to others matter. And every day that we choose love, we choose a good thing!!