Sunday, July 10, 2011

In Transition

I've started first sentences on a blog a dozen times in the last month or so. But I always think it sounds trite, or shallow, or too deep, or blah blah. So I delete it, shake my head, and vow to do better tomorrow.  And well, I'm finally bored enough to do it =)

I'm sitting in the train station, with my red suitcase that I got for ten dollars at Goodwill, and ol' Red and I are going to be spending a lot of time together this summer. I'm country-hopping, doing a round of regional meetings for work. Last year, I was more of a fly on the wall, observing. This year, this is all me baby. A day and a half of SJ for these lucky, lucky participants! I'll be performing my tap dance from the northeast all the way to Los Angeles and 3 other places in between. The only thing I'm disappointed about is that none of them are in proximity to Allegra and Angie in the pacific northwest. Bummer. Unless you want to fly the kids to LA, Ang? Field trip!!

I didn't think I'd be making this country-hop again this summer. I thought I'd be in a new job, maybe even a new town, by now.

But here I am, in sweaty sticky Washington in the height of summer and it's my most hated time of year here. Tourists are EVERYWHERE...I live in a very popular tourist destination neighborhood, and I work right by the Capitol, so they're on my commute everyday. I don't mind them, it's simply the crowds. It takes me about another ten minutes at each stop to stand in line behind a group of same-tshirt-wearing clumps of people figure out how to operate the ticket machines. But mostly I just hate it because it's as hot as holy hell, and I hate being hot. I also hate feet, and I hate seeing so many people's feet. I'm such a strange person.

Summertime is also the time of year when everything shitty that can possibly happen to me, does. So...stay tuned I suppose? Everything's okay so far. But you never know.

I met a traveling baseball player for the Cubs in the airport a couple weeks ago. We spent a very fun and memorable few days (read: nights) together, and now he's gone. I don't miss him. It was fun to have a fling, and I really needed the esteem boost of being "picked up" and flirted with and especially by such a cutie. I'm sure he's romancing someone else right now, as we speak, in San Diego or Cleveland, and that's okay. Dating is not a priority for me right now. I'm sitting tight, so to speak, and waiting to see what's next. Keeping my heart here with me for awhile. Keeping it whole just in case something happens this summer to break it.

I spent the 4th of July lounging at my sister's house with the little girls who are quickly becoming kids rather than toddlers. I didn't have to split my time with another family, I made no plans (deliberately) and I spent two fantastic days just lounging in the pool and catching kids as they jumped in the pool. I was again, and almost always am when I have such a good block of time with my family, amazed at how my family dynamics have changed in the last five or so years.

To put it in perspective, this same sister (stepsister, technically) and I are the same age. We were 7 when our parents got married (4 when we met) but had drifted apart after we hit puberty and I quit spending alot of time at my dad's. Through high school and college, she was basically a stranger with whom I shared a sink with every other weekend. We both went to Panama City with our respective friends during our sophomore years of college. We were so distant by that point that I didn't even know she was there. We were in a dark club, music beating through our bodies, and we rounded a corner and came face to face. Stopped and stared for a minute, said hi, and walked away from each other.

If you told me that in ten years, I'd be in the bed with my head on her belly listening for my newest nephew to kick me, I'd think you were crazy. She'd think you were crazy too, if she thought I'd be teaching her daughters to swim in the backyard of her farmhouse where she lives with her high-school sweetheart. She wanted to move to New York City and be a lawyer. She now lives on a farm in Kentucky and is about to have her third kid and is a third-grade teacher. I wanted to be at stay-at-home mother, maybe a librarian, and that was about the extent of my ambitions. I now live in Washington and have an extremely successful career with no children. Our lives/ourselves have completely reversed.

We flipped around, traded futures, and found each other again in the process. Her blond daughters--one of whom bears my middle name--are my practice babies. My teachers in the ways of eventual motherhood, and there are times when I'm riding the four-wheeler around her farm that.....maybe, perhaps, we are living our dreams out...but in each other. Together, with our younger sister, we have the careers, the kids, the urban life, the country life, the married life, the flings, the travel.

Together, I guess you could say we have it all.


Sunday, June 5, 2011

Fade in, Fade out

"I don't think you're taller than me yet, buddy" -- To a nephew, 11, that is staring me right in the eye with that smile I've known since he gave his very first one. I kissed his cheeks and sent him on his way, with him looking like a man in jeans and muddy boots.

Scene: Fade Out

"What did you ever see in me?" A high school boyfriend asked me, after 11 years of not talking. We're on hour five of conversation. I gave a long, in depth answer about how he was the yin to my yang, and that he was good for me in ways that he didnt know yet. I didn't tell him the truth in that his smell and the way his lips tasted was almost all that I saw in him and that memory was strong enough to keep me on the phone with him.

"What did you see in me?" I asked. A pause.

"You were hot," he said.

Scene: Fade Out

"She's pregnant. I need you. Only you. Talk me down from this," she says to me before dawn.

I sit up and steel myself.

Scene: Fade Out

Crossing a busy intersection on my way to a job that I could care less about right now. "Don't use again" I'm frantically texting on my cell to a boy who is seven light years away from me but I'm rolled up in, just the same. Kissing in the car as we did 11 years ago.

Scene: Fade out

My sister, 7 months pregnant, and my neices and me on the bed. They are 5 and 3. Their baby brother kicked and made my sister jump. "bad baby brother!" Everyone yelled. We found where his butt was located in her belly and spanked it. Rolled around and tickled and screamed. Went to sleep. Brooklyn sighs, throws her arm and leg over me. "I love lou."

The next morning, the four of us (plus baby brother in utero) crammed onto the four-wheeler to find pregnant cows, the girls' daddy working the fields, and then came home to make pancakes.

Scene: Fade out

Sixteen year old neice plunks herself in my lap on the porch swing. I kiss her back beside her tank top strap. She curls into me like she did when she was a baby. "Do you want me to get up?" She asks.

Never.

Fade out.

The month of May. A snapshot of a few of a million moments, tied up into my reasons for living. I could have pinpointed so many more.

My heart is full.

Monday, May 9, 2011

When I'm not lamenting...

I'm actually doing okay. I use this blog as a major outlet for me, and I wonder sometimes what people think I must be like in "real life." I'm actually pretty damn funny. I always smile at you. I know one person at my old job that doesn't like me, but she's honestly it. Maybe other people talk shit about me behind my back...but in general, people like being around me and I'm blessed to have alot of friends drifting all around this great country of ours. 

(My best friend once told me when I was yakking about someone else she didn't know - "you have too many goddamn friends!" - now all friends other than her are referred to as yet another gd friend)

It really could be worse.

I'm still waking up each morning with a goal of to continue to get paid until the next day and to make it til bedtime without any kind of crisis. Things are okay. My meeting is going much better. All 9 of my panelists are now set, I've got 8 states coming, and my powerpoints are all made. I'm kicking it off and facilitating for the two days, so it's going to be a LONG couple of days, but after that I get to go home for memorial day and hug up some little ones and my friends and I'm determined to cherish things more this time.

My friend Tif, who I've known since I was about 8, and friends with since I was ....13? is someone that I email every day. I have since we graduated college (together) and I don't know nearly anyone that knows me the way she does. About 6 or 7 years ago, when I lived in DC the first time, she emailed me one day out of the blue with simply this: "Are you about done up there yet?"

Yep, she was ready for me to come home. She is a woman of very few words, we are not ones to be sentimental and we've had a long history of me metaphorically laying my head on her shoulder and her pushing me up to stand on my own two feet. 

She has two young sons, and is one of my favorite people in the entire world and I'd be lost without her.

This afternoon, we were grumping back and forth at each other about how it was Monday, we both were tired and we both felt fat and we both forgot our lunches, and, and....  We switched subjects into something else random and along the way I said "Ha! Yeah right. No one has ever loved me THAT much."

A few minutes later, I get this back:

"i do."

Two words - from someone who has seen my face at every age and every stage. Reminders of grace.

My former place of employment was in town last week - I absolutely loved seeing them all. Walking into a room and everyone knowing me and trading business cards with me and we laughed and grabbed hands and talked about a few years ago when oh-my-gosh-can-you-believe-that-actually-happened?

My life is rich, full, and capable of so much more than I often see these days. So this is me, peeking out behind the curtain, telling you I am okay and that I still have hope that someday, things will be even better.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Hottest of Hot Messes

Today I feel like a scattered woman in every sense of the word. I'm struggling to absorb the impact of yet another thing that happened to shake America's psyche and to start us all bickering and attempting to define right vs wrong and in terms according to us and our interpretation of God. I'm struggling to keep my mouth shut to the absolutely moronic comments plauging my Facebook, comments sections of newspapers, talk radio, talk shows, talk talk talk everything. Can we all not be motherfucking quiet sometimes?

Work. Work, work, work. Changes are abounding here and they are WAY too long and messy and complicated to get into here in this forum, but lets just say, I need to find a new job. Tomorrow. So I start job searching -- sending resumes out, getting calls, getting on phone interviews. When all the while, I don't even WANT to work. I don't want to do another single policy position paper, or read another depressing report, or worry anymore about "whatthefuckarewegoingtodotokeeppeopleonMedicaid??" crazy disasters.

But work, I must. I got one call yesterday. I was excited until I learned it would likely be a $25,000 pay cut. I couldn't even pay my rent anymore.

In other but related news, I am holding a meeting in a few weeks and its going terribly. I'm bringing in seven state teams of people coming to learn from experts that I can't seem to get to the table. They are so smart that they can't LEAVE the jobs they are doing to come talk about them, and I completely understand that. Another state called me this morning and begged to come participate. "We won't even eat the food," she begged. I promise, we'll sit quietly. We just want to learn.

And I almost burst into tears at that. These people are struggling so, so much and for all their hard work, they're rewarded with idiots slamming lazy government workers on TV. Furloughs, taking away their benefits, pay cuts.

She wants to learn from me. And I feel like -- what can I give her? What kind of fortune can I wrap up in a cookie and send her home with when I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing every single day? How the hell did I end up here?

My life is as utterly uncertain as it has ever been. Sometimes I wonder if my desire for a husband and family is not quite as much about loneliness or biological clocks as it is that I so want to feel that something, anything, is solid. I walk every day waiting to have the rug yanked out from under me. I am clumsy, restless, and tense.

I need a vacation.

I've never taken one.

Monday, April 25, 2011

What I Can't Do Anymore

Here's what I know. I know that every day for god-knows-how-long, I have felt inadequate. Unable to be loved by anyone who does not do so out of obligation -- even though I am told, yes, that I am loved -- I don't feel it. It doesn't feel like it can possibly true because I no longer feel worthy of it. Because I am not worthy of it, it seems.

This past Easter weekend, I took a bad fall at a friends' house (why yes, I was completely sober in case you were wondering) --as many times as I've walked down that staircase to go to her room, I was pulling a suitcase behind me and it was dark, and I thought I was on the last step and well, I wasn't.

So I spent the weekend icing, resting, elevating…the whole bit. Every night we had tornado warnings. Easter morning, I was in the bed with my sister and two nieces and at 4am, our phone rang. Tornado. We yelled for her husband and we crammed into the laundry room with the girls underneath us…the moment passed, we discovered the easter bunny came and had a middle of the night egg hunt. That was probably the best moment of the weekend, one with so many not-so-good things scattered within.

This morning, I woke at 2am. My friend took me to the airport an hour and a half away for a 6am flight, and its 10am right now and I feel like I've already put in a hard days' night and I'm ready to go home and crash. My ankle is throbbing. My feet don't touch the floor.

We had a couple of talks in the car that made me feel like a completely ridiculous person, and that bled over into me having a complete meltdown in the airport at 5am. I called her and cried and sobbed (everyone in the terminal was just dying to sit by me on the plane, I am sure). I said that I feel like nothing I do is good enough. I can never, ever seem to catch a break and just be HAPPY, anywhere. Should I move back home? Well, that's not so fucking simple. I would have to rearrange my entire life, such as it is, and find a new job and move and, and, and. And for what? What if I fail again? What if I'm not happy there, here, anywhere?

I said to her in a choked out sob -- I feel like I am grieving. I am greiving for the life I could be living; the one that feels so impossible to achieve. And it's not as if I want to become the President of the United States or even the President of a company. I don’t give a shit about that. I just want to be happy. Find someone who loves me. Have my own family. I feel woefully inadequate in every.single.way because I don't have these things. I feel as though I can't be loved fully and in turn, I can't know love myself because oh oh, everyone says -you can't know love until you've pushed out a baby. You can try. You can huddle your body over your nieces little body in a tornado; you can change diapers and rub backs and rock and soothe -- but nope, you just can't know THAT kind of love. The real true kind.

And I'm sure that's true. Why would I have succeeded at that? It just doesn't to be in the cards for me, and its time to lower my expectations -or perhaps just change them- and accept that my life isn't going to be a fairy tale. It will not be full of me dancing in the kitchen. I'm not going to have someone love me like everyone seems to have. I will learn to tell myself that things may not --will not-- turn out the way that I had hoped.

I've tried so hard. Harder than anyone knows. Nothing is working.

So here's what I can't do for awhile -- this blogging thing. I can't read every day about babies saving and changing lives. I can't hear about how days were crummy but you went home and looked at your kids or your lover, and re-found your purpose. I can't read about the myriad of ways life is complete for everyone else, thereby making mine seemingly incomplete because I feel it enough everyday. I don't read a single blog that doesn't have this underlying theme, and I just can't do it anymore. I feel inadequacy and regret in my very bones and grief has settled onto my chest in a major way. I am truly happy that everyone else has found that magic and joy and love, but I have not and I probably will not, and for today -- I have to just learn to accept that. And do what I can to protect myself --it's all I can do.


See you on the flip side.

Monday, April 18, 2011

What I Don't Want to Forget

I was talking to a friend of mine from college on the phone yesterday -- it had been an eventful day and I was outside for nearly all of it, and that always makes my outlook improve and makes me in a good mood.  This friend knows me fairly well, especially with us having been roommates after college for a year.  She's omeone I've always kept in touch with and have been pretty honest with along the way.

She is a physicians assistant, and with me doing health policy and looking at future trends and helping to craft legislation for things that will affect her five-ten years down the road, sometimes I like to talk shop with her and find out how certain processes are now and how she feels about them.  For lack of a better term, it keeps me grounded and helps remind me that I'm actually doing something here instead of convening meetings and writing papers just to convene meetings and write papers that no one will read.

Yesterday was one of those chats, and the conversation evolved into me talking abstractly about my potential next career move.  And she said -- "Well, you seem pretty happy and really liking living in DC"  I actually laughed out loud and replied "Shit, I'd leave tomorrow if I could."

She was stunned -- "Really?" You're not happy?"

"Not really," I cheerfully replied.

I am here for necessity and I love certain things about it. But this is temporary. It's not home. And by that I don't just mean that it's not Kentucky.  It's just not MY home; where I will land. Temporary is less attractive to me as I get older.

Last week (two weeks ago, hell, who can keep up) when I was flying back from SLC, a teenager was sitting beside me on the plane. He was about 14 I guess, and the poor kid had a middle seat and I was at the window.  He kept staring out the window while I was trying to read, and he was pretty close to my face and in my peripheral vision, it looked like he was constantly staring at ME. I was getting irritated and that's a long ass flight to be irritated.

Anyway, as we started to fly in low over DC, he spotted the Washington monument.  His eyes lit up and he just said "Whoa" in a quiet voice. He'd never been here before. I played aerial tour guide and ended up giving him and his entire family a list of places to eat around the capitol, etc.

I'm going to miss that.  My greatest hits list of being here is made up of a flash of moments --

Living in Arlington, with a view of Arlington cemetary from my window, and laying in my bed each night and hearing "Taps" being played softly -from somewhere- every single night at 11pm.

The look on the faces of people seeing the monuments for the first time.

Lunchtime walks circling the Capitol building, looping around the Library of Congress and the Supreme Court.

Not knowing there is a landing strip inside the Pentagon and the horror I felt watching a Blackhawk helicopter lower itself into it --I was sitting in my car at a stoplight and had pulled over and waited for a crash. This was 2003. We were all tense.

Getting too close to the White House when trying to avoid a group of tourists that were standing in a clump on the sidewalk. I was in a hurry, so I stepped over the small rope on the sidewalk and tried to dart by them. Security officers grabbed my arm and hauled me right back over that small rope. Like I said...we were all tense.

My cousins, breathless with excitement, coming in to the restaurant where I was waiting for them to have dinner with me when they were visiting.  "We TOUCHED the White House!" I offered to buy the entire restaurant dinner if they had actually touched the white house. They insisted. After dinner I had them take me to the alleged white house. They'd taken a whole series of pictures with their hands on...the Treasury department building. In their defense...it was dark. And that IS a pretty impressive building ;)

I don't know --it goes on and on. Things that someday, when I'm somewhere else and doing something else and maybe even living a life completely opposite to this one I'm leading now....someday, I'll feel a twinge. And for a moment, I'll be homesick.

Monday, April 11, 2011

My Next Thirty Years

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6CVJ3vPOMk

I think I'll take a moment
Celebrate my age


The ending of an era
And the turning of a page


Now it's time to focus in
On where I go from here


Lord have mercy on my next thirty years


In my next thirty years
I'm gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less
Laugh a little more


Find a world of happiness
Without the hate and fear
Figure out just what I'm doing here
In my next thirty years


My next thirty years will be the best years of my life.


(It's gonna be good.)