Friday, March 31, 2006

Peaks and Valleys (and Rum and Coke)

I lit all the candles I own and am relaxing with a rum and coke, not a very exciting drink but a true classic. Listening to my iPod--the playlist entitled "Thinkin Music." No TV. Just me, my dog, my drink, my music. It's kind of nice. It's been so long since I just allowed myself to unwind a bit and think. I've unwound but by watching TV and zoning out, not thinking.

My life is full of peaks and valleys. I have emotional peaks and valleys, which come from my depression. I tend not to feel just normal; I feel either nearly ecstatic and giggly (which often leads people to wonder if I'm drunk) or--more often--withdrawn and depressed, at the bottom of my own personal pit of emotional hell. I've battled depression since I was in high school but it was always relatively manageable until a little over a year ago. You know, when my boyfriend of over a decade left me and my mom was dying of cancer and I was still in a job I hated and had no friends. Then.

But ever since I started taking my happy pills things have been much better. I never took pills before because I worried about them causing me to not feel at all, or at least to feel very little, but at the point where I was last year--crying everywhere when I wasn't home, just sitting there crying at work, in the car, at the store, everywhere (never at home because I had to keep up appearances for my dying mother who had to depend on me)--and with my mother (and my family) depending on me to get her through things, I decided I'd try anything to get me through the day. So when my therapist suggested the happy pills, I said sure.

Now I'm afraid to stop taking my happy pills. I do still feel with them but the peaks and valleys of my emotions aren't so far apart, and when sadness does hit, it doesn't turn into a long bout of depression. If this is what normal is, the way most people feel, I don't ever want to go back. I don't ever want to have the valley of depression be a short step off a tall, tall cliff again. The gentle slopes are so much nicer.

So those peaks and valleys are better now--not gone, just better.

But I also live my life by peaks and valleys of involvement. I am either doing nothing in my life or doing fifteen different things at once. Take right now. It's a fifteen different things period. I work three jobs and go to school full time and take care of my mother when she's sick and share custody of my niece and have a social life. Two months ago, it was a valley. I was on break from school, wasn't working my graduate assistantship, didn't tend bar since my sister was home. Didn't have my new fabulous job as DIrector of Operations for a political campaign. I did nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Well, except for sleep with a couple of guys.

So here I am on a peak of activity and realizing I'm a bit overextended and am probably getting too old for this shit and wondering why it is that I must live my life in extremes. I'm in a relationship with a capital R or else I'm sleeping around and afraid to date anyone seriously; I work no jobs or three. I have no friends or fifty.

I got my emotions on a gentler slope of peaks and valleys; now I have to get the rest of my life on that gentler slope. Hmm. I think I shall make myself another rum and coke and think on this a bit more. And listen to Jimmy Buffett.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Fricking Bill Gates. A Post Summary.

Fricking Firefox! I had a nearly complete post and it encountered a fricking fatal error and had to fricking close and wanted to know if I wanted to send a fricking report to Microsoft and I said NO! Fuck Bill Fricking Gates! I am so going out to buy a Mac tomorrow morning.

No, not just because of the Firefox thing (which may or may not be Bill Gates's fault [and yes Gates's is the correct possessive of Gates, so long as you are referring to a single Gates as the possessor] but I don't care. I'm blaming it on him anyway because he is an evil software-stealing monopolist!). I am impulsive but not that impulsive.

Did you like the use of the double parentheses there? Nice, huh?

Well anyway, I'll shorthand my original post:

I'm Blanche from The Golden Girls and that may or may not be a backhanded compliment.

For those of you that don't know, my mom has cancer. She has a new "spot" which is oncologist jargon for "we don't know what the hell it is but it might or might not be cancerous so let's cover ourselves by calling it a spot."

My sisters and father suck and don't help out with anything and when I stopped doing stuff so they'd have to help they . . . just didn't. So now no one is and that means I will have to start again.

My brother and his wife are total fricking assholes that treat my mother like complete shit despite the fact that she is terminally ill because they are complete burnouts who live with my grandmother for $100 per month which they only sometimes pay.

My mom and I share a weird custody of my niece (their daughter) that is at their permission because the child welfare system sucks and they would run away with her before we could complete a court appeal for custody. So we have an uneasy truce with these people who I would rather just cut out of my (and the rest of my family's and anyone I know's) life.

The end.

P.S. If I had a "Tina is currently feeling" mood indicator like Dan does, it would say pissed off. (In case you couldn't tell.)

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Is a Cheater Always a Cheater?

Dan posted something that's been sticking in my head because it's sort of the other side of a situation I found myself in years ago. It's about when a man (or anyone) cheats and whether he deserves forgiveness. Read it.

I forgave someone that cheated once. I figured, (and this is before I ever saw this episode of King of Queens where Carrie and Doug say the same thing) that every relationship has one big mistake. And this was it. I told him if he ever cheated again, that was the end. He had one shot to make it better. He didn't cheat again. For six years. Then he did. Then things ended.

I've heard many times (often from women) the phrase, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." I don't buy it. Even after what happened with the Big X (for those of you slow in catching up, read Parts I, II, III, and IV), I don't buy it. I guess what it comes down to is whether you believe in . . . (are you ready? Cuz this is deep!) . . . the redemption of the human soul.

Do you believe that someone convicted of a crime can be rehabilitated? (Let's hold aside child molesters and serial killers and the like for now.) Do you think that someone can do something that breaks the law, be placed in the correctional system (again, let's assume the best circumstances re: rehabilitative services that are offered), and come out fixed? Can someone who has ever committed a crime (for the purposes of this post we'll say up to the level of robbery and even possibly murder) change and be a better person who will not commit crime again? Do you think that someone who has been convicted of, say, drunk driving can realize the horrible mistakes they have made and atone for them?

I do.

I know not everyone does, but I do. Okay, so the Big X didn't. But I still believe that if a drunk driver or a bank robber can rehabilitate, that a cheater can too. That's not to say that all will. But if a cheater realizes their mistakes and feels the guilt about it, and wants to be a better person, I think they can.

What will happen if a future boyfriend cheats? Would I give him another chance? Well, to answer that completely honestly, I'd have to be able to see myself actually with a man in a real relationship again, which I'm not doing yet. But in theory, my answer will be maybe. I'd have to use my gut about how badly he wanted to change and how strong I thought his conviction could be, but if all that was good enough, yes. I would give him a second chance. But I'd have to be sure.

Where I think I went wrong with the Big X was that I was never really sure. That's why I felt the need to check up on him from the time he originally cheated on me to a few weeks after we broke up when I found out he had been cheating on me for that last month.

I will never again be someone who checks up. That's why next time I need to be sure.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

National Procrastination Week: I'm One Week Late!

So last week was National Procrastination Week (thanks to Jerry for the heads-up), a week that celebrates what I am all about, and here I am writing about it a week late, which would be totally acceptable if the reason I was late in this post had been procrastination, but it was just the opposite! The fact that I am writing about National Procrastination Week a week late because I was just too busy to write about it last week is simply unforgivable. I may have to redesign my occupation in my profile if this keeps up.

All last week I planned a major event for the campaign I am working on. The event took place yesterday and was a huge success, covered by all the local news outlets and written about in national political blogs. Of particular interest to me was a blog about the musical selection, which I spent a great deal of time working on. The whole entry, written by a music exec (this guy does this for a living!), was glowing, but here's a great quote:

"I don't know about you, but I'd sure as hell rather have someone . . . who can groove to Natalie Merchant, Michael Stipe, Bob Marley, Joni Mitchell, Dylan, Woody Guthrie, Sponge Bob and... THE RAMONES than some uptight, out-of-touch, reactionary relic who thinks demonizing young people and pop culture is a way to inspire fear and fear-based support (ala Bush) in parents concerned about cultural trends that have moved faster than they have."

Also this morning I received several emails and phone calls, including one from the candidate that confirmed that yes, it's true: I rock! So professionally I'm feeling pretty good about myself but personally I lost a little balance in the last week or so. I mean, a major feature of my personality is my procrastination skill. I cannot lose that ability just because of a silly thing like a career! So tonight I made this pledge to myself: I am going to--no matter what is going on--allow myself at least one hour a day of pure procrastination.

Every evening when I get home from work or school from now on, I'm going to pour a glass of wine, or shake up a martini, or pop open a beer (seeing a theme here?) and relax while I write a blog entry. Following that, I will . . . do nothing. I will do nothing but waste time until that hour is up. If possible (like tonight) I will waste two hours. I know I am a busy woman these days but can I really be too busy to drink and procrastinate? I mean, ok. If the napping has to go, so be it. But the drinking and procrastinating must continue!

So here I am, celebrating National Procrastination Week one week late, and while my reasons for being late on celebrating may not be in the true spirit of procrastination, at least my way of celebrating is. So what if I end up sleeping 5 or 4 hours a night instead of 6? Who needs sleep anyway? Procrastination is so much more important.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Old Man in a Dress


This is the oldest transvestite I've ever seen. The picture doesn't do him justice but what do you want me to do? I was trying not to be TOO obvious. Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Feeding the Beast

I'm quite aware that if I stop feeding the beast that is my blog world, the beast won't feed me back, and I've been neglectful. Let's face it; I've been starving the beast this week. Reminds me of the hermit crab I had as a pet when I was a teenager. It grabbed the skin on the palm of my hand with its pincer one day and wouldn't let go for like an hour. I tried to pry it off with a pen, etc, but it just would not let go. Finally it did on its own. And do you know what happened after that?

I forgot to feed it. I really honestly didn't do this on purpose but I forgot to feed it for the next week and it died. I don't want my blog to die so I promise to keep feeding it. It's just that a lot has been going on in my professional life this week, and I am behind not only here but in my schoolwork and my graduate assistantship as well. What happened? I got a paid internship with the political campaign that I mentioned the other day!

I had casually mentioned it at the end of that meeting and two days later I get this email from the Deputy Campaign Manager saying, "The answer is YES, YES, YES!" Wow! It feels great to be wanted! And I didn't even have to be vetted in any way. My reputation precedes me! Then he found out this is Spring Break week for me, and now I'm full time for the week, planning the Big Announcement along with a few other things.

So I've been thrown into the middle of the fray and I've got LOTS to do before next week at work plus 2 midterms and some papers for school. The good news is today I got a volunteer that is on Spring Break as well this week, so he can be my bitch on this Announcement stuff. Yay!

So now that I have a bitch, I'll write more. I promise.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Other People's Good News

It's been a crazy busy week and my laptop's been down so when I would normally blog at night cozy in bed with my pj's on, I haven't had the option available to me. What did I do this week that kept me so busy? Monday through Wednesday, I was a student member of the admissions committee for my Master's Program. This involved carefully reviewing all 54 applicant files, rating them in various categories, and then writing appropriate comments.

On Tuesday I had to leave my admissions work for a few hours since I got a last-minute notice to attend a planning meeting for a political committee I had agreed to be on. As I was leaving the meeting Tuesday, I half-jokingly said I was looking for a paid internship. When I returned to school I ended up having to stay there most of the night to finish the applications after my evening class got out.

Wednesday the admissions committee met, and once we'd finished reviewing all the files and coming to consensus on each applicant, I spent the afternoon calling the students that had been accepted. This was a really happy experience for me. There's nothing like making a bunch of phone calls to give people good news. The best was a girl I didn't even get to reach. I had her home number and she was still away at school. When I asked her mother for her school number, she asked who I was and I told her I was on the admissions committee, so all sly-like, she says, "How's she doing?"

I told her I was calling to let her daughter know she's been accepted but that I wanted to speak to her personally so I could go over a few things with her, and the mother started screaming at me, "OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! ARE YOU SURE? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" I reassured her that it was in fact true and asked her again for her daughter's phone number, which she assured me she'd give me just as soon as she told her husband. "JOHN," she screamed, "SHE GOT INTO GRAD SCHOOL!"

And then John was screaming with her: "OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! SHE REALLY GOT IN? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" (and so on, and so on, for a good five minutes.) When she finally calmed down enough to give me her daughter's phone number and I called the daughter, I just got her voicemail, which was quite a let-down after the scream fest I got from her parents. I felt like I told them they'd won a million dollars.

And I know that this sounds trite, but I realized that the time I put into that admissions committee, and the decisions we made, they changed people's lives. Val called this one guy to tell him he got in and was getting a Graduate Assistantship (meaning free tuition and insurance and a paid job) and he told her that he was now going to propose to his girlfriend that night. These people, their futures just changed because of a little bit of time we all put into considering them for our school. I really can't wait to meet some of them next Fall.

I felt so happy Wednesday night, coming home and thinking how my life had changed last Summer when I heard the news that I had been accepted and knowing that I was taking one side of a fork in the road that I knew would lead to good things.

There's nothing like the moment when you realize a hope or a dream is actually about to happen for you.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Big Sky at Night

One of my favorite things about travelling by car cross country was watching the sky change. I loved the sky out west--Montana, South Dakota, Wyoming. It is called Big Sky Country for a reason. The term doesn't do it justice; no words I can write do it justice. I know this because I read about the Western sky several times before I ever saw it for myself. Still, I fancy myself a decent writer so it's my nature to try anyway.

It's best at night. The stars are endless. The density of stars in any one particular spot is one hundred times greater than you see at any other part of the country I've ever been in. (And I've been around, believe me. Unless someone from Kentucky or Mississippi cares to disagree, I have a pretty good leg to stand on here.) And all around each single star, pushing that star out of the sky and almost within your grasp, is the opposite of light, the blackest, most nothing black. When you add this to the sheer largeness of the Western sky, it's just breath-taking. Everywhere you turn, seemingly to infinity there are stars, stars, stars. And you know that there is a whole other infinity behind you, and one off to your left and one off to your right, and one above your head.

If I could stand in the middle of nothingness in Southwestern Wyoming in the middle of a summer night, drop my head back against my spine so I could gaze straight up, and spin round and round like a kid forever, I think I would launch myself and fly into the infinity. The sky could just consume me and soon enough, below there would be another infinity to go with all the others that I had seen before.

I am in love with the Western sky at night.

Once in awhile, the sky here in little old Connecticut gives me an itty bitty glance backward to those times I spent out west. It's only a tiny taste, enough to bring back memories and whet my appetite; enough to make me recall the feeling of multiple infinities all around; enough to make me itch to gas up Professor Bob and go. Just go.

Tonight was one of those nights. It was a good day, and the sky was beautiful tonight. For a moment after I got out of Prof. Bob, before I walked inside, I thought, if I squint just right, it's almost like I'm there. It's been a good week. A busy week, which I will write more about later. But a good week, and tonight I could feel the millions of infinities that stretch out before me, waiting for me to launch myself among them.

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P.S. to Neil-I'll write you tomorrow. Computer broken at home. Will explain. Sorry.