One day a year

Yesterday was the anniversary of two people brought into this world that have changed my life: my ex husband and my sister.  Happy Birthday to the both of you.

I took a bit of time as I was going to get the mail at work to call my sister.  She lives back home in IL in a small town in Bloomington.  We live in two completely different worlds, not just zip codes. 

Hers is one of black and white.  Mine is…

She works at a school over there doing administration and testing.  She went right into college after high school and has a degree as a social worker.  Until a couple of years ago, she was doing nothing with it.  She was working in a Copy Max as a retail manager.

She, for the most part has stayed in the same place her whole life.  I have lived the life of a vagabond. 

Her relationship with my more colorful yet corporate dad is strained.  My relationship with the mundane nothingness that is my mother’s world is far from being anything grand.

My sister and I look little alike.  She takes after my mother and I’m very much so like dad.   I have had no problems finding suitors.  She has always struggled.

She nearly married her high school sweetheart. 

Nearly is a good word when it doesn’t apply to you.

Nearly won the Pulitizer prize.

Nearly made it to work on time.

Nearly got into that club for the party of the century.

Ah, nearly.

It’s definition should simply be: first loser.

It’s a word that would succinctly capture the story about Shawn.  But that’s the cart before the horse.

Jessica’s highschool sweetheart, Willy, broke up with her and married the woman right after her.  My sister must not have taken this very well as she then turned around and married his older brother- a year to the day after.  But hey, maybe she really meant it when she said it wasn’t intentional and that Shawn didn’t remember that when they picked the date.  I mean, he is a recovering alcoholic after all so I could completely understand that reasoning of logic.

My sister had been since supporting him throughout the duration of their marriage thusfar while he just mooched off her.  After exiting a marriage where my husband didn’t want me to be independent financially, I couldn’t fathom why she ever would want to carry a “man.”

I remember the days when we were younger we used to play together.  Hell there may be a cassette tape where we recorded bits and goofed around with buried somewhere in piles of things left in my mothers garage in suburbian IL.

These days?  We don’t talk much.  Not for lack to talk about, but more of the “agree to disagree” sort of lifestyle differences.  I understand her choices but I don’t think she understands mine.  Again, she is like mom and I oftentimes find myself questioning mom if she and I even legitamitatly share DNA.

Needless to say I have never really been close to that side of my family.  I wish it were different.  Maybe in another dimension it would be.

Yesterday I called her.  I’d heard pieces from dad about how things were with her.  Reminders of how much so we really were not alike.

I wasn’t sure if the rumor that Shawn would be going to jail for violation of his probation was true or if somehow he’d gotten his act together.  He’d gotten into drugs and was being watched regarding selling.

My family has said that they hope she leaves Shawn, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.  They have a child together.  My sister has always wanted to be loved and have children.  I saw the look in her eyes as I went on my way and had mine. 

Envious. 

Longing.

It is for these reasons that I tried to talk to her yesterday.  I wanted to see if she was alright.  Instead when I asked how things, she was secretive.

I asked her if she was ok.  She operated as if nothing were wrong.

“He’s away.  He will be away for a long time.  But it’s alright.  We are still together.”

She didn’t need to tell me.  I knew then that he had gone to jail.

  “Where is away?  Is it a business trip?  What’s going on?”

She got upset.  Told me it was nothing.  Told me thank you for calling.  She got abrasive.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the entrance of two people who would change my life.  I am happy with where I came from.  I am happy with where I am going.  I am glad that our paths crossed ways.  I am also glad… that we are parting.

Like so many people I run into… she seems to not realize her potential. 

I’m noticing a pattern and taking some action.

It’s going to be a long December.  For me, this one is going to be focused on working further towards my own potential in double time.  Thanks for the reminder sis and best of luck to you.

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Parables: The power in simplicity

There was not a moon hung in the sky that night as the friends made their way to the evening’s festivities.  Blurred wavelengths of color mark the streets as they weave in and out of traffic.  Like a painter gracefully presses their brush along a canvas, this is their dance.  It is their silent impact.  It is their passion and fervor embracing their fast past turning world.

I

was

here.

If only for a moment.

If only for these moments.

Plates and silverware clink amidst the roars and hushes of chatter at a local spot by the beach.  The pair break through the sound and enter.  They are eager for this time of relaxation and the company of friends.

It is like every cliche night in Los Angeles.  Even when business is over for the day, it is still business as usual.  If anything, it is the kind of night where the most business happens just as much as it is about relaxing.

We sat there and ate cake and drank a few rounds.  We smiled.  We laughed.  Everyone was enjoying the company.  Everyone was enjoying the chatter.

A drink sits lonesome by at the end of the table.

“Whose is this?”

“He’s coming to join us.”

A man in black with an apron slung around his waist approaches the table.

“It will be about 15 minutes before I am done with my shift.  I have to do some paperwork.  I’ll be right over.”

“Come have your drink.”  the group insists.

“Not yet.  I’m on the clock and I have my integrity.”

The drink glows in the moonlight and sings its own silent overture to the starless sky above them.

He finished his shift and pulled a chair over.  The party was not complete for the evening.  However, this is the point when it started to get more real.  Every single other person on there was highly involved within a specific scene, even if their places in line were not the same.  The server was the odd person out in the group.

I asked him simple questions.

Icebreakers.

I wanted to make sure he felt fully included.

“Where did you work before this job?  Is this the job that you would like to have or are you an actor?”

It was very cliché.  I was very… rude actually.

“I lived in Vermont.” he said.

“But what did you do there exactly?” I asked him again.

He stated to tell his story.  He was trying so hard to belong to the group.

“I was working in computers.”

“But what in computers?”

The table echoed with questions pertaining to various fields.

“I was working a help desk.”

More questions as to specifics.

In a way, I felt bad.  Not because of his answers.  Not because But because we were so to the T about his responses yet the majority of us are entrepreneurs.  Our work and dreams are similar to this man’s, even if they aren’t always the same.

He turned the discussion to the rest of the table.  One by one, like an AA meeting, we all spoke about our jobs and stated our names.

Entrepreneur.  PR. Consulting. Etcetera.

The flashlight came my way and I failed.  As I have so many hats on currently, what I didn’t say was what I knew the most.  I had spoken a lot about both but also relatively little, even if I had been verbose.  Succinctly there were only two answers that should have been said.

“I  am a writer.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with heart.”

Transpose the word artist for writer and have the same answer.

Sometimes things shouldn’t have to be so wordy or complex.  There is so much complexity in the purity.  But only if you look inwardly for it and only if you listen.  I have learned that being dynamic is like constantly being on stage.  You have to be bold.  You have to be brazen.  You have to be fully aware of what you are.

You have to…

You have to…

You have to….

“I  am an artist.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with my heart- fully open and susceptible to being broken and put back together again and again in every single thing that I do.”

Because that is who I am and that’s what I am proud of.  Every.  Single.  Day.

Tuesday all day date- part 1

1pm Thursday.

Again, here I sit not ready for yet another adventure with the Grip.  You may have heard him referred to in such other tweets as “Colon boy” “The Gaffer” “Fail” etc.   Don’t let the multiple identities fool you.  It’s all one and the same.

I won’t tell you too much about him.  Details are irrelevant even if that’s where the devil resides.

He is, however, in every way possible amazing.  And no, I won’t be sharing him, sorry.

Tuesday 230

He arrives at my door with a single white rose in his hand.  (It’s dead now btw in case you’re reading this dear)

“Who’s yard did you steal that from?”

“It was an old lady.  Don’t worry, she didn’t notice.  Probably senile anyway..”

He’s going to give me a tour of this city.. and not just his bedroom.  Haven’t had that tour yet although I’m sure one is in the works. I mean… It’s coming up. I mean..

He gave me vague details about what we would be doing.  He was adamite that he wouldn’t get lost.  He got on the 10 near my apartment.  Wrong way.  Within a few minutes.

“You fail.”

It was the ongoing theme.

First up was the Iam8bit gallery showing in Hollywood.  I’d tried to go there opening night but the line was insane.  It’s a small gallery, but it was cozy.

After that, we headed to Pinks.  Now, I have friends here that I’ve asked about taking me there.  I’ve heard all these stories about how amazing the hot dogs are there.  I’ve seen the lines.  I’ve wondered what the big deal was.  I wasn’t going to have that first experience alone.  So, even though I still believe that the best dogs are in Chicago.. it was a treat.  It was like a warm welcoming.

We talked about everything and nothing.  I asked him what his favorite Resident Evil video game was.  Some random strangers chimed in.  Only in this great town does something like that happen right?

Next stop was to a place called Cliftons’s cafeteria.  You’d never know it was there from the outside. Downtown.  You walk in and its like a woods.  It’s campy.  Its dusty.  Fake logs.  Fake stuffed badgers.  A fake fireplace that didn’t even have a fake fire in it.

I was told this place inspired Disneyland.  Funny, because the only description I can really give is the scene from the goofy movie.

There were old men sitting at the tables on the main floor.  It was like a VFW.  Fathers with their daughters.  But wonderful nostalgic music.

I got up.  I danced.  People around us looked.  He wouldn’t get up and dance with me.  He was too busy blushing.

“Damon danced with me in the cafe the other day..”

“That’s not fair..”

“Uh huh.. chicken.”

He told me later he was right about to dance with me, but I sat down.  A likely story.

More later.. he’s actually here & I haven’t gotten dressed for the next trip… I need to find some comfy shoes.

2 days and still going like the energizer bunny..

It was supposed to be a semi normal day Friday, despite the holiday. After trips back and forth to LA, SD, and Bakersfield.. I thought the 4th was going to be relatively quiet. Things with the roommate skyrocketed into horrific. I was so ready to go to work already, but not wanting to deal with any drama.

No one wanted to be at work. It was extremely laid back, and for once.. everyone got along. My plans for the night afterward were initially to take refuge with a notebook and ride to some patch of grass.. look up at the stars and have some solace. It sounds a bit emo, but I can assure you, its not meant to sound it completely. I just have a lot on my mind sometimes and tend to disappear off the radar momentarily.

Thankfully, I have some amazing friends that are able to catch me before I completely become a blip. Family didn’t call. Friends did though.

“I’m not going to let you spend it alone. Let’s do what we can to figure out how to get you here, or I’ll grab you later anyway.”

Worth the drive. It means so much to me. Multiple friends.

I wasn’t supposed to get out early enough to go, but that changed. I was cleared from my boss and made the mad dash to get home and change. We left later than we’d intended. The traffic clogged up a bit as we neared our destination.

“And that is why everyone in LA should have a thing of bubbles in their car.. because you never know.. and what a fun way to pass the time…”

We were headed to the ocean.. my place of zen. Friends (nerds), ribs, booze, chatter, movies, video games… awesome.

“Are we going to actually go in the water or should I not even bother with my swimsuit?”

“I’m not sure but you can bring it if you want to.. it’s really up to you..”

It was among one of the first things packed.

“I already had it packed anyway from San Diego.. he wanted to hit the jacuzzi when I was there.”

My friend just smiled.

As it got closer to the fireworks, the convoy of us headed towards the beach. Dan was the fearless leader, with a tripod nearly as big as me pushed over one arm, and a backpack nearly as heavy.

I could smell the ocean and someone smoking djarums. Blew bubbles and skipped. A stranger gave me a black and I lit up. Ah, escape.. escape. And we weren’t even there yet.

The ocean called to me. It took me all of 20 minutes before curiousity got the best of me… I pulled Steve and Dan with me.

“I just want to find out how cold it is..”

Until sunset, I was in the water. The beach truck rolled in and everyone got out. We made robot firetruck boobs in the sand, and headed back towards the rest of the group. Fireworks from all over. Malibu, Santa Monica, Marina Del Ray..

“Over there is where all the rich people are.. all on their roofs, laughing at all us broke people with our crappy public displays…”

I’ve lived in California for nearly a decade. This was my first fourth on the beach… and there’s only one thing that was missing. Yet, I would look at the sky and dream… we are looking up at the same sky, even if we’re in different cities.. living our parallel lives… not knowing what the future will bring.. fate? One could only hope.

The moment is broken by pings. I put it on the back burner. It’s not time right now.. and who knows if it ever will be. A friend texts me last minute.

“Would you like to come out and cover the anime expo with me tmorrow for TechZulu?”

The future.. goes back to my roots. I’m going to be up all night in proactive mood. Ah the workaholic in me…

“Get some sleep so your eyes aren’t puffy tomorrow, and we’ll talk more”

Excitement. So many reasons. Doors opening… building blocks on relationships.. personal, professional.. friendships… steps forward.. steps back.. new experiences… more…

We packed up the rest of our things and headed back to Trina and Matt’s. Matt made this concotion affectionately called “the ritz.”

“Dare I even ask what’s in this or just drink it?”

We walked down memory lane a little bit. Matt showed us some of his stuff from film school. We talked about nerdy silly things. Played some Scene it… which, I might add, when playing with 2 film school graduates, is a bit.. intimidating to say the least.

Knowing that the day had to start early, we headed back for me to couch surf once again. My friends.. so very gracious to open their homes to me.

Awoke early to prepare for the long day ahead. A shower to wash away the sea. Singing “You Don’t Own Me..” Not a care in the world.

We went to the store for sustenence. I was thinking about making some seafood omlets.. still focused on those moments of zen yesterday. But opted instead for a breakfast burrito. Accompanied, of course, by some chai.

I put on some jazz and cooked. Sang and danced around.

“He hasn’t let me cook for him yet. One of these days though.. perhaps when we both have the time..”

And then the expo itself. Everything was a rush. My friend Trina of Gaming Angels ended up bringing me. It was my first anime con, and I was a bit nervous for no reason. I’ve always wanted to dress up and go to one, but hadn’t yet. And now I was going as press.

Finding Marc was crazy in itself. The con was massive. Rush was the norm though. Newsworthy.

I was fortunate enough to meet up with the folks from Girl Gamer. They are such great people. It’s funny in a way how small of a world it is. It seemed that all of us knew eachother before the meeting. Paralell constants.

I knew a few others that had mentioned that they were going to be there.. just barely missed on a friend who dressed as Jack Sparrow. The gaming journalist convoy… in addition to us, was also Coin-Op Tv, All Games, and if I’ve missed someone, I apologize. Let me know if you were there and I missed the link, I’ll gladly add it.

My day, however was dominated primarily with awesomes Girl Gamer and Marc of TechZulu.

The day was a complete success. Not for the fact that everything went as perfectly as planned, because with these things, it rarely ever does, which is half the thrill of it.. but because I firmly believe in the strength of the connections that were made there. It is one of my loves of the advent of social media. We have small worlds, but when we share passions.. I look forward to seeing how things go for everyone. Where their paths take them. I wish them good luck in their journeys… parallel.

There were smiles all around that day. It was an experience I am forever thankful to have had.

Pulled from place to place…

Taking pictures.

Interviews.

Near interviews.

Secrets.

Finding out about why people put so much devotion into the things they enjoy.

Logistics.

“Are you ok with all of this? This adventure?” Marc said.

and I turned to him and said..

“Are you kidding? This is what I live for…”

Travel.

Journalism.

Friendships.

Technology.

Business.

The ocean.

A camera.

A notebook.

Living at the edge of life.

Carpe Diem.

[And now to shower, get dim sum, and some more beach time before going back to hipster jesusville.. Pictures soon to come, and sidebar links updated later]

sometimes you just have to smile and nod

“Your heart is in San Diego.. It’s quite obvious…” she said in a rushed disdain.

She’s right.  I never denied that.  But I know how I work… and that statement has nothing to do with that.

Friends and work.. the few times that I’ve tried to do that… heh… reminded once again why I really don’t.

“I think that you honestly don’t want me to go.”

“I want you to go when it’s right.  I think you need to ask God about it.”

And now, God?

Wow.

I slammed the brakes a bit.  There’s no reason for this to come about.  I have enough on my plate than to deal with this too.  And now.. well.. she knew this was coming up soon.  I was upfront and honest about it.

“I have to be in San Diego on Monday for an interview. If it worked out, then it would be wonderful.  It’s a fulltime position and could be a very good step for me regardless of where it’s located.  I have to make bills.. If I get it, I will let you know as soon as possible.  I really do enjoy working here, and will miss it here.. but you’re right.  That’s my home.  I really wish that you could understand that.”

I felt as if I was having an argument with my dad again.  I know at the heart of it, her intentions are all well.  Because, well, if a couple of factors don’t happen right, I’ll be extending my stay in Claremont, and then commuting back and forth more while I save, find another place, etc etc.

This week is going to be a slam.  I’m booked with appointments and priorities.  Left open to breathe a little.  Just remaining quiet except to a select few.

“I think the reason things seem to be going like they are, is a test.  God is testing you to see how badly you want this.  I think it will work out for you.. in time.  I’m just worried.”

The things we do to get to our dreams… but if it was easy, then everyone would do it.

“In a way, I’m kind of envious.  You have goals.  You know where you want to be.  You just have to find the path to get there… and you have ones to choose from.” a friend told me last night.

Theres a fervor inside me.  I believe in this.  I’ll always find a way..

daydreams

And no one really believed in him..

Except him.

But she saw so much more.

She saw to his heart.

He’s not the hero everyone is cheering for.

He’s the dark horse.

He’s a pretentious asshole…

But he’s a hard working, balls to the wall asshole.

He’s consistent.

He gets the shit done.

He takes life by the horns.

He’s driven… and he has the Midas touch.

And no one really believed in her.,.

Except her.

But he saw so much more.

He saw to her heart.

She’s the sentimental dreamer.

She’s the sweetheart of the story.

She’s the character you see in the movie

And so desperately just want to win.

He

She

They

Had blind faith.

They

Had this blind faith.

In tangible things.

In success.

In dreams.

In the power rush of self achievements.

The prize

The light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s…

It’s…

It’s…

_________.

Dear self, stfu

My morning started late. My evening ended in morning, and I hit the snooze… or so I’d thought. I either have chronic insomnia or bouts like this one. However, after yesterday, and having gotten more on it than I have in months, I think I was allowed somewhat of a cookie.
It wasn’t incredibly late when I got out of bed, but it felt it at first. I have been consistently pushing myself to get up at normal hours. I want a conventional office job, and need to get off owl schedule.

Yesterday I was out for 12 hrs pounding the pavement like Sarah Lee does cake. I made some real progress though. Next week will hopefully be hectic in some ways. Today I made my twice a week rounds with the staffing agencies I belong to. I sent my resume to a branch of a staffing agency I was registered with previously when I lived in hell. It’s not adaquately networked though, so I have to apply and interview at each branch if they find something for me. It’s kind of lame, but ah well.

Thirty minutes later, I got a phone call about a possible job 30 mins from me. I have an initial assessment interview tommorrow morning. If that goes well, I will be going to an interview at the location. Fingers crossed that it does.

Positives though.. multiple phone calls. I have some leads that I will be talking to over the next few days. Hopefully I will be gainfully employed again within the next week or 2. Seems promising.

Last week, alot of things happened. I won’t be writing about them anywhere within the public realm if at all. It left me like a deer in headlights. People tell you that it’s ok to talk about things when they’re happening… unless you are one of a few select people, I have chosen the option to stfu. I have found that it’s the best advice someone can ever give you really. It sounds harsh. But realistically, no one wants to hear it.

Now I may sound like a bitch here, but telling people your major drama does nothing but create more and make people run from you… it doesn’t matter if it’s self imposed crap or its stuff that happened to you. Keep… your mouth… shut. And if you can’t.. you’re allowed to vent to a handful of close friends that you have a mutual understanding that you can do it to without them going over the deep end on you.

This is what I do, and the main reason I have a special page privied to a select close kin. It gives me an outlet for the people that I can talk to about things of that nature, and everyone is happy. And even in that page, it still has 2 deafcon levels of privacy.

When you can’t get a hold of anyone, or if you want to spare everyone the headache of listening to your vent tangent, there still is hope. If you have aim, I reccommend Smarterchild for those such instances. That, and the responses you get will more than likely cheer you up. Consider it free therapy.

Sure people tell you that bottling up emotion is bad. They also tell you that showing emotion is a wonderful thing, but the second that you show an emotion other than happiness, there is something wrong with you. It’s a dangerous line to tow. Just trust me, you don’t want to go there.

My life is extremely “colorful.” It is a roller coaster of ups and downs. Everyone has them. We’re programmed as humans though to say that we care, but in the back of our heads, we’re selfish.

There’s an invisible line in the sand about what you are allowed to talk about drama wise. You have to be socially savy and know where it is. Here’s a true acceptable scenario:

So.. once upon a time there was a guy who I used to date that had a psycho friend that didn’t like it much. She didn’t like that he spent time with me instead of her when we dated. She was single.

One night she went emotional and psycho on me. I, of course, tried being friends with her initially and she was fine before the friend and I dated. He thought she was being immature but didn’t do much about the situation. We broke up. I couldn’t handle the friend issue. I wanted a no drama relationship… or well.. yeah.

Months later, I moved. The ex contacts me because we have been friends for years. He’s all frustrated because now it’s the exact opposite situation. He’s single. She’s not. She’s blowing him off for the significant other. Oh, and she’s gay now or bisexual.

That’s the kind of drama people don’t mind hearing about.. especially after the fact because it’s funny and scandalous.

I love hearing about this. A lot of people do. There’s magazines devoted to this stuff because of it. I’m used to being a virtual bartender of sorts. I hear tons of stories like this and keep em locked away.

However most of the time with really bad stuff? The cheapest and easiest thing for you from both a career and everyday social standpoint? If you do not want to commit social suicide, learn this lesson really fast and take my advice on this one- just tell yourself to “stfu.” It will save you money as well as tons of additional drama for yourself, your relationships will be that much better, and the person you vent to won’t have to worry about wrinkles over someone else.

Yes, I’m a hypocrite and unique just like everyone else. So are you. Admit the harsh reality of it and let’s all act normal like because we all know it’s true but won’t openly reveal it.

/changes subject

And I have a monkey and his name is Pierre.