Friday, March 27, 2009
A few things came to an ugly head at work. I was quitting anyway, put in my notice Monday, but the shit that went on before that was more than just the final straw, more like the final log- the final fucking Sequoia!- and while I'm not going into details, it was just a huge mess that I shouldn't have had to deal with in the first place, it should never have been allowed to get so out of hand. Knowing that I only have a week left has done me a world of good. And while leaving a decent job with good benefits makes me afraid, especially in this economy, it's also helped me sleep better at night.
All of this to say, we'll be packing boxes and moving very soon, and my inner dynamo seems to have gone missing. She's usually pretty reliable; an energetic, if slightly disorganized being who manages to get things done just before the final deadline. She hasn't shown her frenetic face yet, but then, it's not quite crunch time, and she might need to be bribed with double-lattes and promises of a nice vacation. Or maybe she needs a couple Xenadrine with a Rockstar chaser, she's not gettin' any younger after all.
Monday, March 23, 2009
- Although there are mosquitoes by the ton and Mom's place is infested with mice, no West Nile virus and no Hantavirus.
- Clean air and clean water.
- Eighteen hours of daylight.
- Homegrown potatoes, peas, tomatoes, carrots, cauliflower, gooseberries and raspberries.
- People who've loved me almost my entire life.
Monday, March 16, 2009
I woke up early this morning with tears in my eyes, dripping on my pillow, not sobbing. I dreamt that I was sitting by Mom's hospital bed, talking with her, and she looked really good, like she did when she vacationed down here. She was smiling and animated, telling me very important things, things I needed to know, and I was paying close attention because I wanted, needed, to remember. I thought, I should be writing this down. And then I woke up.
It was still dark outside, weird for me to be up this early, but clearly my subconscious was at work. NSA was in a bad place of his own, so I sat on the couch with a blanket, waiting for my coffee to brew, watching the minutes tick by, reliving this morning five months ago moment by moment. I didn't remind NSA of what day it is, I don't know if he thought about it, nor did I tell him about my dream. Maybe I'm being selfish, or maybe I'm trying to spare him. It's hard to say.
I know that I'm moving forward, I mean, things progess, time marches on, it can't be stopped just because you need a breather or eight hundred, but I have very little faith in the future. Some days, I feel like I've had the shit kicked out of me, and just as I start to recover from one blow, another lands.
I can't remember what Mom was telling me in the dream, and that's why I was crying. It was important, and I woke up to the real world not remembering.
Friday, March 13, 2009
- The weather (duh!). I love open-toed and peep-toe shoes. I like cute skirts and bare legs. Sunshine is an instant pick-me-up. So I'm thinking maybe just the summer in Alaska, then somewhere else for winter.
- Trader Joe's. Only the best grocery store ever! Unless you want name-brands, but you can get those anywhere. Two-Buck Chuck Merlot, I already mourn for you.
- My scooter. I just can't think of a decent, economical way to transport my baby bike, and storing it wouldn't be practical. I'm sure I'll own another one day, but it really stings for now. The ride up Laurel Canyon Blvd. is one of the best things about L.A.
- Chipotle. I love their food so much, I'm looking in to opening an Alaskan franchise. Seriously.
- Hummingbirds. These cool little creatures abound around here, I see them all the time. I just don't remember them being very plentiful in Alaska.
I'm looking forward to moving, but change is scary, and while I haven't been exactly happy in Southern California (at least not in a while), I did have some really good times here.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Maybe we should call it "National Sleep-In Day," to honor the chronically sleep-deprived (read: most of us), or "Spring Fertility Rites Day" since pagans really don't have a holiday of their own and it only seems fair. I dunno, I'm just spitballing here, but I'm sure everyone will agree, the wait for Memorial Day is just too damned long.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I've been feeling very judge-y lately (see above), and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's my insecurities about leaving the job, or maybe it's just my latent bitchiness finally rearing it's ugly head. Or maybe it's the fact that people like Nadya Suleman get under my skin and make me all red and itchy. I think that must be it: I have an allergy to media whores. Definitely explains my reaction to Paris Hilton.
I recently discovered Darrell Lea's Green Apple Licorice on sale at the local drugstore. It's not licorice in the true sense of the word, more like a better version of Twizzlers, but damn! it's yummy. And all-natural too.
Is anyone else bothered by the fact that grocery stores are tracking how we spend our dollars so precisely? I mean, I know that's the deal when you sign up for those discount cards, and I don't see how the information that I (well, my cats) prefer Friskies to 9 Lives or that I buy insane amount of rotisserie chicken, can be misused, but I still find it a little creepy. I do love the coupons specifically tailored to I want though.
Friday, March 6, 2009
I'm feeling a little heady, a little buzzed by the thought of freedom, because while leaving this job, this particular form of security, is a bit frightening, the prospect of having more control over my time and not working for people I've come to dislike is rather intoxicating. I've realized a few things about myself over the past couple of years, one of them is that I can eat a tremendous amount of shit if I need to (which I'm not sure is a good thing), and that I really perform better when I like who I'm working for.
So, for the next few weeks, I'm on pins and needles, biding my time, but tranquilly, because I know it will be over soon. And I think what's coming next will be a great adventure.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
NSA and I have been considering moving back to Alaska and renting an apartment, but both of us really don't want to have to spend the winter there, shipping all of our stuff is expensive, and neither of us want to feel trapped by decisions Mom made. So what's the compromise? What can we live with? Well, NSA is the disabled one, so if he feels that he can spend a few months in a tent, then I can too. If we get Mom's place into a habitable state, then good, we won't be stuck in a lease. And if the house isn't decent by the end of summer, then at least most of the trash will be removed and it will be in better condition to board up and leave for the following winter. Storing the bulk of our stuff is definitely less expensive than shipping it, and it leaves the option of moving to Colorado (or somewhere else) open.
I realize that for some, spending a summer in a tent in Alaska sounds a little bit like Hell on earth, while for others, it's a dream vacation. I know quite a few people who've done it, even in the winter, while building a house, working in fish processing, doing wildlife research. Not having to pay rent would mean that we could live on a reduced income, and in this age of cell phones and wireless broadband, of movies and T.V. shows delivered directly to your computer, it could actually be pretty comfortable. Or it could be a horribly bad idea that ends tragically with my face being eaten by a bear. I guess we'll just have to see.