loooong weekend

Memorial Day weekend was a blast. There have been so many decisions to make and hard things to think about these past few weeks, it was nice to have a free day to just let it all go and worry about where I lost my earring (checked by the pool this morning, not there, must be in the house....somewhere).
I'm back at work today and after a fantastic breakfast - a pumpernickel bagel with cream cheese, lox, capers and a tomato with some black coffee - I'm ready to face the day and face the thoughts that have been running across the teleprompter in my brain.
All those thoughts about love and money and family and friends. About where I am in my life and what I should do with myself. Going over with a fine tooth comb my principals and morals, reviewing my belief system and contemplating when IS the right time to really just let go...you know, a regular Tuesday morning....

space age love song

I went to my friend B's birthday party on Saturday and along with her husband, boys and me, there were two couples there, B's step sister and her boyfriend and a couple she used to work with. The lady of the couple is starting her own business based on her years of experience as a counselor to become a life coach that focuses on love and relationships. I found this out because after we were seated and had our drinks and stuff, the first question she asked me was "So, are you seeing anybody?" I very rarely get asked this question - maybe it's because most of my close friends know that aside from a few "one night adventures", I haven't had what one would call a "boyfriend" since my freshman year of college - that was a two week stint in boyfriendland in 1992, People. Not to say that I have not had relationships with men. Some of my very best friends have been guys and those guys still are. Otherwise I have been a free agent. Waiting for my Mr. Big moment, waiting for a guy who will just knock my socks off, hoping that I don't work with him and that he is not a total jerk. I don't think that these are huge requests of the Universe.

After S. asked me that question, a very strange thing occurred - some crazy Freudian nightmare of my entire love life since 1992 played itself out in my version of reality since I had the Ma Po Tofu (delish, btw, I highly recommend it!) at P.F. Chang's that night. Like a really bad teenage movie, the scenes began to unfold, one after the other. I was at work on Monday and a guy who used to work here called and since I hadn't talked to him in a while, we caught up. He asked me if I wanted to come over and since the last time we tried to hang out was unsuccessful (he invited me to some get rich quick scheme he's into, I didn't go) I figured I'd give it another shot, just to see what happened.

We fell right back into our flirtatious rapport, the kind that they always show in movies right before the big kiss in the rain (and yes, it was raining that night, HARD). I thought we were going to be alone (well, him and his dog) and it turned out that he's living with his brother (and his dog) and a friend - three guys, two dogs. After a delicious dinner, we got back to the apartment, it was dark, it was cool, the the guys were in their rooms, just doing what they do, the dogs were with them. He asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I agreed. We picked one and got on the couch, settled in. I thought that this was a primer, but boy, was I wrong. Here I was, in the dark, on the couch, ready to cuddle and he sat on the total opposite side, covered in a blanket, arms and legs crossed, slouched back in the sofa. Tuned out, shut off, except for random questions about how they mowed the lawn in those days (we were watching Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland) in turns out work had nothing to do with keeping us apart and even though this person is not even a good imaginary facebook friend, now he's asking me to come over every week because "he forgot how it was between us."

I should have known when he didn't text me his address after he invited me to come over, or when he laughed instead of responding after he saw the dogs come at me jumping and barking, or when he didn't ask me if I was seeing anyone (why would he ask if he didn't care?). It's not just him either. There is another guy that I have been friends with for about ten years now that I'm just not giving up on. When I saw he was single after a year, what was the first thing I did? I emailed him to go out. WTF? This guy has not called or even posted a message on so little as my facebook page in a year and the minute he breaks up with this girl, he's all attentive and ready to go. It's my fault. I worship them. I look at them like they hung the moon and they suck on my expectations and hope like a character on True Blood. Maybe it's all that Anne Rice I read in Jr. High?

I was the friend who became "The Breakup Whisperer". As an independent, strong, funny and intelligent friend, loyal to the death, able to see beyond the public displays of affection! They would come to my apartment from far and wide, sometimes from across the country. I didn't let it bother me that we had not hung out the whole year prior to that because of said scumbag, but now that he was out of the picture, it was time to get back to drinking wine and bitching about boys on my couch. This was my time. I would hug them and take them back in, as if they were back from a long, difficult journey, and a lot of times, my friends, they really were. I was there to tell them that they "Didn't need that guy, or any guy for that matter" to "Put it into perspective - who were you before you met that guy? How can you let one person change who you are at your core just because you slept with him for three months?" and hours and hours of listening to them talk about the sex, the crying, the fighting, the makeup sex...no no no, it's like I was living it with them, and to be honest, I think I was talking myself into it, also - even though deep down, yes, go ahead and say it, even though deep down all I wanted was for someone to cry, fight, and have makeup sex, someone to laugh and hold and kiss and hug and love so hard that maybe it even hurt a little - that maybe after three months I really couldn't imagine my life without him...

Does this explain why I have been staving off a long, difficult journey of my own? I can't help but wonder if seeing my Dad take care of my Mom for three years while she was dying of cancer made me think - will I ever find anyone who is willing to do this for me? Will I ever find anyone that I am willing to do this for? Is having a boyfriend like window shopping at Neiman's? I think to myself; sure the clothes are pretty, but once you try them on you realize they don't fit and they are way to fucking expensive and difficult to maintain, I think of Carrie Bradshaw at the end of Sex and the City - finale part deux....

"Well, maybe it's time to be clear about who I am. I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't live without each other love and I don't think that love is here in this expensive suite in this lovely hotel in Paris it's not your fault, it's my fault. I shouldn't have come here."

b still.

I like having a project at work. Doing a project makes the day go by faster, gives me focus, and also makes me feel useful and give me something to contribute to the work conversation. Because even though everyone always says in a mocking tone that I have the best job (this usually happens when I'm reading Vogue and eating breakfast) I know deep down that they are really quite happy to have me do it because it means someone else has to be happy and smiling and nice all the time - yes, even to the stupid/mean people, especially to the stupid/mean people. I have taken on even more responsibility and hopefully this will pay off at the time of my review.
I got home today and was a little down, thinking about my bank account and worrying over money again. Then I come home, to my much quieter home now that kitty is gone, and I hear that still, small voice in the back of my head whisper "Don't panic, things are okay, you are going to be okay, you will see, everything will come out just fine, just take a deep breath and be still." It works. I have no idea what this voice is. Mom? Grandma? Grandpa? Is it a trick my mind is playing on me to keep me from having a total freak out session? Is this mental health on board or some crazy delusion?
Am I doing the right thing? Where is my compass? Where is my sign? Could someone please just tell me what the fuck to do?! That would be GREAT. Yes, based on your knowledge of the future and all of it's possible outcomes, I would like some advice, Universe...hello? hello?
Then I look up and I'm at my job, I'm standing in the hallway with a cup of coffee, I can feel my spanx hugging me, I feel my cute little shoes underneath my feet, I toussle my hair and take a deep breath and a sip of coffee so it doesn't spill on me or the carpet and I take a good look at the EXIT sign above the door - see, there is always a way out, anywhere you go, there's always a way to just change your mind and go somewhere else. Sometimes there are more logistics involved. Like selling everything and moving to India is a lot more involved then just changing into my pajamas and going to watch public television in the den, but still it's a different choice, an EXIT from my present state of mind. A way to keep the fear of the unknown at bay and to let the "monkey mind" go back into its cage where it can relax and have a banana.

Deeper Dive

It has been quite a while since I have written an entry, so much has happened since then, here are some highlights...
1) On April 3rd I had to have my cat put to sleep - she had suffered kidney failure and instead of turning my house into Kitty Hospice, I asked the kitty what she wanted to do and she said she wanted to go to the big sushi bar in the sky. I thanked her so very much for being the best kitty puss puss in the world and watched as they gave her a shot and her tiny little green eyes closed for the last time. Then, the very next hour, I found out that my friend had a baby boy. I made it to the hospital the next day to hold him and be with their family, it was a delight. Nothing like a day old baby to bring some light and hope into the world.
2) The yearly ride that I volunteer for is all geared up and ready to go tomorrow. I am the captain of the team that takes care of a tent at the top of the hill for the riders to stop, enjoy and pick up a popsicle - we encourage them, give them water and gatorade and joke around about spandex - it's all good and it's all in costume! Our theme this year is ROCKY - we were inspired by the scene in the original where he triumphantly climbs the stairs as our tent is at the top of a hill. Very excited about tomorrow, should be a gorgeous day in the hill country...
3) Another step in the journey towards financial independence, decided to freeze my gym membership (bye bye kickboxing :( and no more brow waxes - time to take my tweezers into my own hands since my stupid property taxes went up - good thing is, I didn't realize I had this kind of discipline inside of me - except when it comes to that new frozen yogurt place down the street - those bastards.
4) I love our public television channel - just when I was ready to give up on my farm share, I see FOOD, INC. again and EARTH DAYS: AMERICAN EXPERIENCE - amazing. Makes me want to MOVE TO A FARM and garden naked like the hippies in the movie - too bad gardening is so, well, dirty and sweaty, also, that's A LOT of sunscreen.
5) I burned my first DVD with my new computer and feel like I am part of the future for a second. I burn a movie based on the French book Le scaphandre et le papillon - The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - I don't care that it's in French with no subtitles, I read them the first time and the language is so beautiful, it's just lovely to watch and listen...another cool thing is that I saw that movie - one about a man who uses only his eye to write a book, then I saw Broken Embraces - a man who is blind who writes a movie...
6)Have been catching up with friends from the past, one from high school and one from college, people I haven't seen in 12-18 years, reconnecting on facebook and finding that people do change, they may seem the same, but we all grow, we all learn, we all connect to each other in different times in our lives for our souls to "check in" and fill in the blanks of those questions forgotten (what seems like) so very long ago...I wonder what it will feel like to come across someone when I'm 50? or if I run into someone when I'm 70? Who will it be? What will we talk about? What answers will be revealed?

Put in a helpdesk ticket

"Could you tell Mother Nature to hurry it up with the pollen distribution?" He said as he began to climb the stairs. I asked if he wanted me to call right now and he said yes. So I picked up the phone and said "Hello? ...Yes...I would like to put in a request to expedite the pollen distribution in our area...yes...okay, put in a help desk ticket? Okay, thanks". Then I hung up the phone and called to him as he had reached the top of the stairs and his destination and I told him to put in a help desk ticket to the Nature Board. He laughed, and I said, "See, I follow up."
It's little conversations like this that happen every day that make being the Boss of the Lobby so fun. Earlier today, with someone who usually ignores me, I decided to say Hi and just get over myself. She said Hi back and asked me how I was doing, of course I told her I was doing well, or fine, or whatever recording I have on today with a smile and she, surprisingly mind you because she never speaks to me or says anything to me unless she needs something, she says "I bet you have to answer that question a lot everyday, even when you are grumpy and have to lie, huh?" I didn't answer - she was already in the elevator.
It's true. Even when I have a weekend like the one I just had. Friday was pretty low key, I got home and was getting my jammies on and then the cat got sick and didn't get better. Not at all. The vet recommended I put her to sleep. I relied on his experience and did not protest. He told me what the other option was, performing the equivalent of dialysis on a daily basis, for however long it might take until she passes. Then I remembered a guy in the lobby of the vet clinic earlier in that morning. He came in to buy food for their dog he and his wife call "the living dead." He continued on by explaining that the dog had been diagnosed with cancer two years ago, but was still alive, albeit thin and not very active, and so the nickname followed. He sounded like he was trying to say "Look, it's not my choice to keep this dog around, I wanted to put him out of his misery years ago, but my wife won't let me." Okay, Buddy, whatever you say.
How do people do that? How do they live with themselves when the animal that has been there for them for the length of it's life is ready to move on and they won't allow him to? I was not equipped nor did I have any desire to turn my house into Kitty Hospice. I stayed with the Kitty for the whole thing. When we were waiting for them to bring in the needle, I thanked her and hugged and kissed her and told her she was the best Kitty Puss Puss ever and I was so lucky to have had the pleasure of having her in my life and taking care of her. I apologized for any pain I caused her and for all the times I called her a little shit when she wouldn't let me brush her (she was a fabulous white and silver Persian).
I went home after that and put all her stuff away. I felt guilty and worried and had to remind myself that I was not going to forget her, I just had to put her things away so that I would not be so very very sad knowing she was not going to be using them everyday. I still look at those spots and feel sad, though.
A little while after that, my friend sent me a text that their new baby boy had arrived. I got an email notification as well. I could not bring myself to go to the hospital that day. That day had to the be the day that I said goodbye to the Kitty Puss Puss. I made myself something to eat because it was already one in the afternoon and I had taken the Kitty in at eight that morning so I was pretty hungry. Then I made some phone calls to let the people that were closest to me know what had happened. I watched the movies I had rented, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and Broken Embraces (Los Abrazos Rotos). I made it to Blockbuster just in time to return them to the super cute guy that I rented them from.
The next day was better, got up, showered, and had some breakfast. I got myself to the hospital to greet the new boy baby to the world and was able to celebrate his very first day on earth (and learn a whole lot from the Lactation Consultant that happened to be there when I arrived). There is something so wonderful and perfect about holding a baby. All the love and divine energy that surrounds them is overwhelming in a good way. The hope and joy, the promise and gratitude that come with that little tiny person all swaddled in a blanket with hot pink, bright blue and chartreuse dinosaurs all over it. It really is an honor to be so close to the light as that.
After my friend told me about her day of giving birth and she asked me what I had done the day before I told her. We thought is was kind of strange that the boy showed up so soon after the Kitty left. I guess if he stars sleeping sixteen hours a day and really really enjoys salmon sushi, she can always put in a helpdesk ticket to Nature Board and see what happens.

The New Story

I am happy to report to you, my six followers and whoever else out there who might be reading that my therapy has ended, for now, with the ability to call if I need to. The telltale sign that let me and my therapist to make the choice was the incredible feat of self-preservation that I took on my work anniversary.
Picture this...a sunny morning in March, I arrive at my desk to find the two golden balloons that represent the two years that I have devoted to being the Boss of the Lobby. Congratualations, right? No, actually, no. What about my first year here? I was here for eleven months before I got hired on. Eleven months, people! That is almost a year with no paid vacation and no health insurance and having to work with one of the craziest bitches I have ever met in my life just to get my foot in the door. I did it happily. I loved coming here and was happy to have a job with a steady paycheck that I enjoyed. It wasn't a difficult job, there were projects to work on for different departments, new people to meet, a parade of handsome gentlemen to check out. Still, though, there is something weird about not acknowledging a whole year of one's life, don't you think? All I could think of all day was people saying "Oh! Happy Anniversary! Two years? Wow!" and I would be all "Actually, it's been more like three" and get all pissy and resentful. So, I nipped it in the bud. I popped the balloons and the sound reverberated loudly all through the lobby and through my soul, breaking through the tension and saving me a whole day of growing resentment and anger. THAT, my friends, is theraputic.

The Story.

In between five to ten second conversations with whoever is going through the lobby, playing on the timesuck that is facebook and watching tidbits of family guy while I laugh to myself like a crazy person; there are moments when I look out the window and have deep thoughts. Thoughts about life, the meaning thereof, and how to be a better person while I am here on earth being the boss of the lobby.

After a rough couple of years in my personal life including losing my Mom to cancer, having two huge fights and breaking up with two very close friends that I had known for over ten years, financial issues, burnout, weight gain, and no love life, I decided that maybe therapy was a good choice. Due to the financial issues, I decided to take the money I had been using for my yoga classes and put that towards therapy for however many sessions it took to get me back on track, get me happy and moving forward in my life again. It has been a little over four months now and last night's report, even after a pretty rough day, what that I was doing just fine. So that's good...
What is going through my mind these days, when I stare out the window at the snowy day and contemplate my life in this snow globe moment, is keeping the balance between all the things I learned in yoga and therapy. They appear to me to be two completely different ways of living a life. In therapy, I report what has happened, I keep a journal of my dreams and of course, listen to what the therapist has to say or sometimes just cry or figure stuff out, you know, depending on the day - sometimes I even do all of those things. Because the goal of therapy, especially according to Jung is individuation.

"Individuation is a process of transformation whereby the personal and collective unconscious is brought into consciousness (by means of dreams, active imagination or free association to take some examples) to be assimilated into the whole personality. It is a completely natural process necessary for the integration of the psyche to take place. Individuation has a holistic healing effect on the person, both mentally and physically. Besides achieving physical and mental health, people who have advanced towards individuation tend to be harmonious, mature and responsible. They embody humane values such as freedom and justice and have a good understanding about the workings of human nature and the universe."

Yoga takes a different approach. It's about going in, going deep, but with your heart and your breathing, not with your brain. The moments in those poses that are the most difficult are the times when "we must remember that we are not our bodies, we are spiritual beings in a human form" we are told to resist the temptation to give in to the ego, to the story. Of course, this is the time when the inner monologue, for better or worse, is turned up to "11". The tape that has recorded all the "I'm no good at this, I'm too fat for this, that girl is SO SKINNY, that girl is SUCH A BITCH, HOW DOES SHE DO THAT?, what am I going to eat for dinner? Should I even eat dinner? When the hell is this pose going to end?" with practice, our yoga teaches us to let go, release ourselves to the pose, surrender the story to the science of pigeon or warrior or even savasana and turn the dial down to a good 5 or even 3 and sometimes, when you least expect it and when you really aren't trying, it turns off. These moments are few and far between, but it is these moments that you learn to strive for when you are balanced in tree, or holding onto your leg in dancer's pose.

Since it's been a week from when I began this entry until now, I have had time to contemplate a third option. As you can see from earlier entries, I made a commitment to volunteering when I began this writing process. I have since been to the food bank at least once a month since I started this blog and it has been great for me. The reason I wanted to volunteer was because I knew it would get me out of the house, out of my head, and thinking about people other than myself'; being grateful is a huge windshield wiper for your brain when it's clouded by self-pity. I had the time, the energy and the willingness to do so and it was about time since the last time I did it was probably sometime in high school (not counting all of my theatre work, that was more like a labor of love). Last week, I decided to go to the Chabad website, just out of curiosity to see what Judaism has to say about the 'ego' and true to form, the directions were to do a mitzvah. A divine command as communicated in the Torah. Doing a good deed takes us outside of ourselves and reminds us that we are here for one purpose and one purpose only, to be of service, to G.d and to our fellow humans, not for some great reward in the afterlife, but to make the world a better place now, while we are here.