Caterwauling

My lovely bride friend

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I stayed away from the computer and my imaginary princes and went to a true fairytale wedding this weekend.

My beautiful bride friend has had me tagging along with her since the beginning — from picking the place all the way through to the cake tasting. The hotel staff treated me as a guest of honor even though all I did was go along for the ride.

But may I just say, I’ve lost a lot of faith in love and hope and humanity through the years, and just this one night gave it all back to me … and then some. I never dreamed all this existed. Or that it could happen for me, too. And I really want it to.

Seeing two people who are truly made for each other, with the perfect wedding day despite the torrential downpours that canceled out their beachside ceremony, taught me that the sun shines if you let it. As one of my brilliant companions said to me, “The sun is shining wherever she is,” about our lovely, beaming bride.

At the reception, I had the opportunity to connect with some people I loved and, by my own choosing, lost. Silly, I know. But the environment in which I had left them was treacherous. Cutting ties was, I figured, for their benefit. But in the end, what happened was we lost a year and a half of friendship. And that shit ends here.

And a couple of those friends placed me right back on my pedestal, which made me woozy after being knocked down so much and for so long. I forgot how nice the view was … how special people really thought I was. All I do anymore is doubt myself and, unfortunately, screw up accordingly in support of my poor mental mapping.

What can I say? I am my own crown of thorns. (Hat-tip to Sandra Bullock in “Hope Floats” there.)

My update on my three princes is such that I still have the first one on bended knee, but not for long. The carriage turns back into a pumpkin today unless I say otherwise.

The faraway prince asked me to stall the ready prince for two weeks. He ain’t proposing till he’s ready.

The third prince whom I dearly love is hoping to hit the lottery in the meantime.

I know it’s the next (big) step in my career. But when it all comes down to it, isn’t it just a job? I can’t quite figure it out. This means everything to me right now. I have to pick right. I also have to pick soon. Can our princess get everything she wants?

To complicate matters, wouldn’t you know it that our princess has been offered three dates in the meantime?

I seriously don’t get polygamy on the relationship front, and I don’t know how the hell to handle it professionally. But I do hope to get married and keep one or two boytoys on the side. Professionally, of course. Shit, I can’t even get one good man, let alone find three at once! Not that that will stop me from looking. …

Today will bring resolution one way or another. I just need one more piece of information before I can knock over the first domino. And then, there ain’t no undoing it. You’d think I’d be grateful for the time of rest (er, unrest), but I’m ready to let go, let God, and get out of the way.

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So … say our heroine had three suitors. And had to choose one of them without having enough information about all of them to feel truly good about her decision.

Perhaps the best metaphor here is that our princess goddess has some wedding proposals to consider and, yet, she hasn’t slept with any of them. (Suspension of disbelief is integral to this exercise!)

Put yourself in her glass slippers for a moment…

Do you pick the nice guy who lives really far away … the guy who reminds you of someone else (both good and bad) who is at least within driving distance … or wait till the awesome guy can afford a ring (and assume he won’t propose without one and you’ll be waiting till the end of time)?

If this were fiction and money weren’t an issue, I’d wait for the prince behind Door No. 3. But money is an issue and one prince is on bended knee and I need to figure out whether the faraway prince can get to that point, um, today.

Either way, I will stay in touch with the third prince … maybe a second marriage is in store. Or, at least, an affair.

Of course, this is what worries me. I have had enough damn divorces. I want to have kids with the next one. (Oh wait, I hate kids. Let me rephrase that.) I want a happily ever after the next time around.

So which of the first two princes can provide me that? And can the first one remain on bended knee till the carrier pigeon gets to the other one, or will I be in danger of becoming a spinster if they all move on without me?

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I have this very clear memory of being about 5 years old, at our little rowhouse in the ghetto (*deep sigh*), planting apple seeds in hopes of growing an apple tree from them.

I very distinctly recall an invisible being — a spirit guide, if you will — coming up to me and hovering around my left side as I dug in the dirt. (Something I wasn’t allowed to do, but oh well.) He asked me a question that to this day manages to disturb me when I think about it.

The spirit wanted to know that, if I had my choice and had to hurt, would I rather it be physical or emotional?

Maybe I was older than five, or maybe he used words I would have understood at the time, since that’s a loaded question at my current age. But I must have recently gotten a gash or a bruise, because I remember saying, “In my mind, so nobody sees it!”

(My family did not like me doing anything that would result in me being less than perfect. I’m guessing that’s where THAT shit stems from.)

The spirit said OK and left me. I forgot about it till a few years ago. And I often wonder not only why I had to choose, but did I choose correctly?

I think I did. I like having functioning limbs, although the diminished mental capacity from the clusterfuck that is my life hasn’t exactly done wonders for my well-being. I’m tired of being hurt, exhausted, unhappy, frustrated and always longing for something that’s … I dunno … NOT THIS.

I’ve had plenty of interactions with the spirit world since then. No psychic revelations, unfortunately — I’d be too happy to get those. (Dear Higher Self, when am I going to get a job? Please I will give anything to get out of this HELL that we call freelancing. Oh my GOD please make the pain and non-paying clients just STOP already.)

Worth a shot, eh?

I probably made the whole thing up in my head, but I remember everything about the scene. And for what it’s worth, I don’t have it so bad. But it needs to get better from here. I can’t accept any alternatives to that. Spirit guides, let’s go easy on the questions next time and go a little heavier on telling me what I SHOULD be doing, OK?

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My manifesto

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, I came up with this manifesto a while back. Since life is going every which way but right, I decided that if I didn’t set goals — and eliminate any activity that does nothing to further them — I’d be in for more of the same madness.

Thus far, it seems to be working. I burned a little sage and even I’m surprised at just how much change a person can endure in a very short amount of time.

This is actually the second incarnation of my list. “Loving what I do” was fourth on the list. But now, as I am currently in a mad interviewing frenzy, I can see my future. Well, more accurately, I can see my PAST, re-manifesting if I were to take certain paths.

At this point, I have no offers or any certainty of one coming through. There are so many pros and cons that are clouding my brain for each. In a way, I am seeing my familiar old pattern creeping in, of “throwing” the process so that I don’t have to deal with having to decide whether to turn down something.

And I know, I KNOW, my job is to get to the offer stage. Because I’m living the alternative, and it ain’t fun anymore.

On the other hand, not needing dress clothes has been nice. Not filling up the gas tank regularly has saved a lot of money, too. Hanging around the house has been kind of awesome. I mean, there’s something to be said for the isolationist lifestyle.

On the other hand, I’ve missed people. Not many, mind you — and certainly not certain types you find absolutely everywhere, and all you have to do is change the name and not much else. But sitting in my living room, watching the ocean waves roll by hasn’t exactly opened me up to a world of new contacts.

But the thing is, I can’t afford to choose wrong this time. Minus the job I had in D.C. that ate up every available minute of my life (which is the one I count as the “best job ever” — work THAT out in your head about the rest), everything else has been a fizzle.

I find myself not pulling any punches when I talk to people now. Yes, I want a job. No, I don’t want to be unhappy. If I’m going to run into battles and impossible situations, I don’t think I’m your girl. But if you can promise (and I’ll take a promise, at this point) that I’ll be proud of myself and part of a good team, let’s continue the conversation, please.

I want the place where I’ll spend the next five to 10 years. I don’t want to do any more of this, “Well, I’ll put in my year.”

Of course, I’m also feeling like I don’t know crap about anything anymore. Maybe working at home has meant I’ve lost my edge. It’s been 10 months — it’s like I took an extended maternity leave and I’m coming back to find that the business world has gone on without me.

I told a dear friend last night that, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might not be smart enough to work at X.” And she was blown away, saying, “I can’t believe the day has arrived that ANYONE doesn’t feel smart enough to work at X … least of all, you.”

And that flips my shit. Really? Me? Not good enough? What have I let people DO to me throughout the past few years? Am I THAT uncertain about my own achievements and capabilities that I don’t even feel like trying to do this anymore?

My hope is that, by this time next month, I will have gotten offers and decided well. Of course, if that is NOT the case, I guess I will live and be looking for something else, eh?

My wish list is that I want to work somewhere local (read: health coverage). I want to be close to the Keys so I can spend the occasional weekend there until I can relocate. I want to stay active in the stock markets and maybe make enough money to TRADE in those markets.

But … I want to spend time with my momma and my kitty. I don’t want to be holed up somewhere and not know how things are here. I need to buy health insurance for her (fucking county keeps rejecting us for free coverage) and I will need to take her to doctors. That’s hard to do when you are new and just can’t get away.

Then there are the other opportunities that aren’t so nearby. I am looking around and thinking, gah. If I have to move, how does that get me to the Keys? Or is that a dream I put on hold for a little while … LIKE I DO WITH EVERY DREAM I’VE EVER HAD?

There’s still the work-from-home route. But I don’t think my widdle heart can handle the money stress … and tax time will kill me. I’m pretty sure I paid half of what Warren Buffett did last year, and he made $62 million and I didn’t. I used every dime of what I’ve made. Momma needs a way to raise some cash in the meantime to pay Uncle Sam so that the other 99% don’t have to miss out on their annual Maserati upgrade.

Look, I feel better that I have opportunities to speak of. I mean, statistically, something’s got to work, right? Of course, I’m in the state with the fifth-highest unemployment number, so I know to be grateful.

I just need to be spectacular, which is hard right now. But they need to be spectacular right back, you know? I’m not giving anyone “my year” — they’re getting my heart. But I can’t go back to 100-hour workweeks, either.

My resume may say I worked one year here or nine months there, but nobody counts the hours worked nor those shaved off my life from the stress.

I know there’s no perfect workplace. I tried that this year. I worked with people I loved and got to call the shots and be creative and do mah thing. But in the end, the money isn’t there. And I’ve got a WHOLE new loyalty and respect for those who take that heart and hand over a shiny, glorious check on the day they say it’s coming.

I figure, I’ve sacrificed plenty in this life. My mental health is all I have left. And God will make everything happen the way it needs to happen. My hope is that I have my choice in the matter, and this handy-dandy lil’ list is going to be my one and only guide to making that decision, and making these things happen.

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Cuban Coffee Queen

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, I guess it’s fair to say I have a lot of proverbial irons in the proverbial fire right now. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is close to perfect. Even if everything comes through, the pros equally balance the cons across the board.

I fear what happens should nothing come through. I like this phase, filled with hope and opportunity. Something HAS to work out, you know? It’s statistically impossible for not a blessed thing to work out. (Of course, now that I’ve said that, I’ve made God laugh. Didn’t I?)

I escaped to the Keys this weekend to clear my addled brain. It helped. Although I think I left my brain there. Perhaps I should go back and get it?

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