Monday, March 14, 2011

Corporate thank you...

The whole concept of "corporate culture" makes me a little ill. On some level I get the whole "have-a-job-be-dedicated-to-it-and-do-it-well" thing, and I can appreciate and recognize it in my co-workers. I also know that not everyone is made the same. I, personally, want more than working within a "corporate culture" somewhere for the rest of my life. (Disclaimer: not that there is anything wrong with that - to each their own). Work for me is a means to an end. I pay my bills (or try to anyway) with whatever scratch I manage to come up with from my several menial jobs. Meanwhile I dream about writing, playing music, being creative.

This place is a huge joke. Never before in my life have I seen such a humongous cluster fuck in a corporate environment from a firsthand perspective. We temps are ignored and poorly trained, and we get to sit and push F2 and F3 all day. We don't know what we're doing or why we're doing it, but news flash: neither do the people who actually work here. No one has a clue! Half of everyone's time seems to be spent standing around and bullshitting while attempting to look important.

I feel extremely useless, bored and unproductive. So this is what I went to college for. Huh.

My choices are my own; my actions and my decisions brought me here, good and bad. I could have tried harder, studied more, chosen an actual career path. But then, I would probably be one of the ones standing around bullshitting while attempting to look important.

That's not me. Never has been really. Power suits, 9 to 5, "corporate culture"...that's just not me. I am t-shirts and jeans and naps and words and music. I have always been a little out there, a little different. Marched to my own drummer, if you will. I'm okay with that. I'm happy with that. I think I am better for it.

Now...time to stop just dreaming. Time to start creating.

Sunday, March 13, 2011


The questions have started, in earnest.

There were a few here and there when I first came back from Phoenix. From S - "Mommy, do you still love my Daddy?" Things like that. (How do I answer that? How do I translate the real answer to that question for a 4-year-old little girl who loves princesses and still believes in happily ever after?).

The questions have become more frequent, and much more difficult to answer.

I had a conversation with C a few weekends ago over a Dr. Seuss matching game. I'm not sure what came over me, but I suddenly had to tell him how much I love him and how my leaving last summer had nothing to do with him or his sister. His question, which I stupidly was not prepared for, was "then what did it have to do with?"

I do not know how to answer these questions without hurting them more. I do not know how to answer these questions without saying mean and nasty (albeit true) things about their father. I refuse to do that to them. My mother did it to me, and I have not and I will not speak ill of him in front of or to them.

S likes to reminisce. She is constantly saying things like "remember when we went strawberry picking when I was a baby and I ate so many strawberries my face was all red?" She seems to have a "remember when?" for everything little thing.

Last night, as I was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she said, "Mommy, remember when we used to take a bath and if we didn't have a cup to rinse our hair you would tell us to put our head back and we'd rinse it with the water that comes out of the bathtub? That was fun. We used to take baths with you all the time. Mommy, why did you leave our home? Don't you miss us?"

It was like a sucker punch to the gut.

"Yes baby. I miss you every day I'm not with you. I missed you every day I was away."

The other question, the first one...that took a little longer for me to answer.

"When I first left I was only going to stay a few weeks. But I decided to stay because I needed to figure some things out."

Of course, what was going through my mind, what I almost said, was radically different. I stayed because I was broken. I stayed because I allowed your father to break me for 9 years and I didn't know how to put myself back together in North Carolina. I stayed because I didn't know what else to do. I stayed because I knew I could never support you on my own. I stayed because it was the only way I could ever really, truly, finally get away from your father for good. I stayed because I was tired and sad and lost and the desert held an unexpected and strange healing for my soul. I stayed because I'm selfish and horrible. I stayed because I found a friend...much more than a friend.

And I wanted to tell her that I came back because I missed her and her brother so much it hurt. I came back because I had to face it, all of it. I left my father and I left my friend and part of my heart in Phoenix when I left to come back here.

I didn't say any of that. All of that went through my head in about 10 seconds. And by the time I had given her my safe answer, she had already moved on to something else, something that didn't have anything to do with the pain I have caused, or any of the other adult things they bring up from time to time. She was already telling me all about her bath time doll, Belle, and her bathing suit and how her hair turns pink and how she likes yellow soap and yellow lotion because her skirt is yellow. But I know, underneath all of that kid stuff, the bigger questions are still there.

I know I need to let it go. I know I need to stop feeding all of this guilt, stop letting it have power over me. I need to let it go and move forward. But it is so hard. Much harder than I thought it would be, if that is possible at all. I'm back, I'm here, I get to hug them and kiss them and spend time with them. Even though part of my heart is still in Phoenix, I am here, and I need to focus on the future and all of it's possibilities.

But I wish there was some kind of instruction manual for these questions. I know there will be more, I know they'll probably never stop...I just wish I knew the best way to answer them.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Pavlov's Dog

I've been thinking a lot lately about technology. Cell phones, smartphones, tablets, what have you. I went over to the dark side last summer and got an iPhone. I had a teeny little iPod Nano, and I loved it...but I had seen firsthand the wonders of the iPhone and I WANTED ONE. Badly.

So in a fit of impatience and spontaneity, I marched myself into the local Apple store and I got my iPhone. Don't get me wrong, I love it. But...I am somewhat ashamed to admit that it has become an extension of me rather than a gadget meant for talking on the phone and occasional web surfing. Sometimes I feel like I should just go ahead and have it surgically removed from my person. When did we become so plugged in that we stopped being able to just be? I can't relax for two seconds without some sort of technological stimulation. I have literally forgotten how to

I woke up this morning eager to get started on some much-needed cleaning and organizing around the house. And my first thought was 'gee, I wish I had my teeny little iPod Nano so I could put it in my pocket and put in the earbuds and just listen to some music on full volume.' It kind of made me a little sad. Yes, I realize I can access my iPod from my iPhone, put it in my pocket and put in the earbuds and listen to some music on full volume. But this gadget is my phone, my email, my text messaging, my Facebook, my alarm clock, my distraction, my holder-of-many-fancy-apps. It's all too easy, too at-the-fingertips. And if I docked my iPhone and turned on the music or put in the earbuds it would inevitably be interrupted by a text or a phone call or a Facebook update. Sometimes I feel like Pavlov's dog...I hear that little tinkling glass alert and I drop what I'm doing and go running to it to find out who texted me!

As a spiritual person rather than a religious one, I usually just give up giving up things for Lent for Lent (process that one! lol), but if I did decide to give anything up for Lent this year, it would probably be using my iPhone for frivolous reasons.

Let's be honest, that's so not going to happen. Texting is convenient and sometimes helpful and the map function has turned me into someone who can get anywhere at all, rather than someone is hopelessly directionally challenged and could get lost in a paper bag. But I am going to try very hard to disconnect myself from the whole technology thing a bit. It definitely runs my life way too much, and I need to be running my life.

This whole living-by-myself thing has proved to be a challenge for me. I really thought it would be endless fabulousness...and it's not. But that's reality. And I am coming to terms with the fact that all the technology and wine and feeling sorry for myself has just been a series of distractions designed to keep me from doing what I should have been doing these last several months: figuring out who I am, and learning to like her. I'm working on that. It's something I'm going to have to work on every day. Along the way, hopefully I'll learn to just be while I'm at it...

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Come here often? I'm new here.

Not really.

This is actually my 3rd trip to the blogosphere. I've been working really, really hard at not writing anything at all lately, a choice that doesn't really lend itself to blogging.

See, if I write, then I have to actually deal with stuff. You know, process all those wacky feelings and endless thoughts. And I have just not been up for that. For a long time. Apparently, I prefer to torture myself by not dealing with anything. I've just been letting it all wash over me, constantly. I am barraged with all of these random, erratic emotions and thoughts every single minute of every day. My.brain.never.stops.

But now, I think I am ready to deal with it all. Maybe. And I definitely think this is a good place to start.

We'll see.