Friday night I received a text message of all things, telling me that my second job had come to an end. I knew that it would be ending soon, so it didn't necessarily come as a surprise. I had certainly wished it had lasted longer. I do love making extra money and until I figure something else out, the bills are going to be tight. I'm back into some delightful credit card debt. Always fun to be stuck in that rut.
I've applied with an online retailer for their night and weekend customer service position. Unfortunately because I have a full time job and a doggo, the second job has to be remote. I can't stand the idea of leaving the doggo by herself all day and all night. It's not right. She has enough separation anxiety as it is. Hell, so do I. My savings should cover the minimum credit card stuff for about five months. This also means that I can't really go out any old time like I wanted to. Honestly, I couldn't before either. It's why I'm in debt up to my eyeballs in the first place. On the bright side of things, until I have the second job, I'll have the time to do all the things that I wanted to do but never had time for. Catch up with the giant pile of to be read books, finish my Rosetta Stone for Spanish and start the French one. Write for you. Write one of the fourteen novels in my head. Write write write. Get the podcasts going. I feel like there are a million things to do. All I really want to do though, is nap. Is that so wrong? Sleep, read, watch TV, eat, repeat. I want to write, but I don't want to write. I just want to work. Work keeps the thinking away. I could exercise more. I'll certainly endeavor to do so. I can't remain this weight, that's for certain. Not only is it unhealthy, it's just uncomfortable now. It didn't used to be. I guess that's what getting up to nearly 300 pounds does to you. Makes you lazier and lethargic and uncomfortable. We'll see how it goes. Maybe the blog will hit it big and you'll pay me to write. Right? Ha!
0 Comments
Saturday morning arrived the way most Saturday mornings do. With me setting an alarm. It's not like I'm ever able to actually sleep in on Saturdays anyway. I end up waking up around 7:30 regardless. This time the alarm was set so that I could be up and ready for Collective Con.
Collective Con is the local con here in town and it's relatively small as cons go. R&B came by around 9 and we headed out to breakfast and then the con. First off, the parking situation was a bit of a mess. We got waived into the portion of the lot reserved for the vendors and artists. Which was fine no big deal really, just entertaining. Then we had to stand in this incredibly long line that led directly out into the parking lot and towards the main road. Why they didn't try and wrap it around the building I have no idea. We're standing in this crazy long line and R&B went to go and get their tickets since they did not purchase ahead of time. I ended up leaving the line because I already had a ticket on my phone. B ended up getting in free because there was a nice family who had an extra wristband. Unfortunately for me no one told me that the "will call" tickets were the same as the ticket on the phone so I had to get BACK into the long ass line. All of this was done in the parking lot with cars trying to park around us. Already unimpressed but surprisingly not annoyed, I finally got to the door where they tried to tell me it was one bottle of water per person. Dude… But the guy let me slide because I was with two other people. For those of you who have been to the larger cons before, think about that. They did a bag check on EVERYONE with any type of bag. They wanted to limit the amount of water you could bring in with you. I figure that tells you everything you need to know. The layout once I finally got inside was interesting as well. The main vendor booths were right up front with the food around the sides. The signing area was right in the middle of the vendors, the artists in another room, and the panels outside and around the corner. Merchandise-wise, there weren't many options available. There were the typical ones, the glass guys, the wooden clock guys, anime everywhere. There didn't seem to be many specialty artisans. I suppose I can understand that, it's a lot of work to get ready for a show in general and I'm not sure why any of the bigger artists and vendors would waste their time on the smaller shows. I was disappointed that there was really only one t-shirt table and it was all anime and gaming stuff. There was a TARDIS and a Stranger Things wall (the one with the alphabet and holiday lights) for folks to take pictures with. There was a ton of food, but we didn't buy any. B was the only one who found anything he wanted there. I mostly wanted to go to scope out the set up and who else may be there. I was thinking that next year we'll get a little booth for Ctrl+C. We'll see. I certainly didn't see any other podcasts there. We didn't stay terribly long, two hours at most. But it was a nice to get back into the con experience for a little bit. MegaCon is coming up and I'm totally excited about that. What about you? Are you an avid con-goer? Ten years ago I said yes to something that almost everyone else would have said no to. In doing so, I completely changed the course of my life. Everything I have now can be traced back to that one moment of saying "yes". I don't usually do the sentimental thing for everyone to read, but this one had such a profound effect on my life that I felt it was worth sharing.
What came immediately after the "yes" was one of the most intensely emotional experiences I've ever had. It led to my current job. It involved some heartbreak. It led to me moving to PA and back. It led to me adopting my dog. It led to me moving to Jacksonville. It led to my relative financial stability (it's all relative). It led to my current social circle, the podcast, and my creative re-awakening. Saying "yes" to this one insane thing taught me more about myself than I think I would have learned on my own. I know who Linzi is, because of this. I know what I want out of life and who I want in my life, because of this. It recalibrated me emotionally. It offered me perspective. The first few years were manic. Up and down. Love and hate. So much anger and sadness. I lost forty pounds. I gained it back (and then some). I found that I had courage I didn't know I had. I walked away and broke my own heart in order to save it. Hindsight is everything in situations like this. I look at it now and I don't recognize the woman I was. Should I have married a man after three weeks? Likely not. I could have saved myself an immense amount of grief. I would have missed out on a lot of love though. Even though the marriage ended and the grieving was substantial, I also know that I've gained a lifelong friend. It sounds odd to say it like that, but I believe it to be true. There's no ill will. I am confident that if I needed something he would help. There aren't many people in the world who truly know ME. It's nice to know that there is a piece of my heart with his name forever etched in it. I took a leap that turned my stomach in knots. But I never regretted it. And even though they aren't in my life as much anymore, I am forever grateful to the person who had the courage to ask the question to which I answered "yes".
Over the last two weeks, like most I have been watching the mayhem unfold online. I think there are quite a few people like me who are just about sick of all of it. Things I feel I need to say:
Most of you who know me well, know my opinions on what is going on right now. I've tried to keep them to myself and off my Facebook page, but y'all are making it really hard. Things I still don't understand:
I think that everyone just wants everyone to be taken care of and to able to live their lives peacefully. To do that though, there is a ton of work to be done on both sides and it starts with not treating each other like crap just because we disagree. I'm one who is not hopeful that Trump is going to do a good job. Everything he's done so far has caused genuine worry for me. If I "have" to respect that you like what he's doing, then you "have" to respect that I think he's nuts. It would be nice if I didn't end up regretting this post. What do you do when you desperately want to write but the words just don't come? Since losing my second job, I have found myself itching to write more often. When I get home from work now; I walk the dog, I make some dinner, and then I sit down to read or watch TV. Last night specifically, I tried to write.
My mind was clear, I had a fire going in the fireplace, some relaxing music playing… I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't sit still. I kept coming up with excuses to not write. I wouldn't necessarily call it writer's block. One thing that I know about myself? My best work comes from the darkest parts of me. Over the years I've compartmentalized those parts of me away so that I don't spiral. I've never tried to write from a happy place. I certainly can't write about love when I haven't been in love in years. There are thousands of tips, websites, books, and blogs all dedicated to helping a writer write. I admit that I've read a few of them. Most give advice about clearing your mind or your schedule or your working space. Some encourage free writing while others encourage structure and outlines. Some tell you to make everything up. Others tell you to write what you know. Each piece of advice is good in its own right, but sometimes the block is just the block. Years ago while I was briefly unemployed I started a novel. I typed out thirty pages worth of storyline. It flowed out of me in a way that I had never experienced before. It felt like I tapped into something primal and guttural. Then? Distraction. Real work came knocking and a gal has to eat. Somewhere along the way I lost those pages. The cloud may have existed back then but I failed to back it up. I've never been able to get back to that story. It's lost to me now. I've never had that feeling since. Words no longer just come out of me without control. It's incredibly frustrating since I know that feeling exists. I should be able to capture it again. How do I get to THAT? How do I tap back into something that I accidentally stumbled on the first time around? I think part of this blog is an attempt to recapture some of that. To try and force myself to write more often while trying to reach the part of me that I didn't know was there. To try and get to that place without digging into the dark is going to be hard but hopefully not impossible. Fellow writers, do you know this feeling I'm referring to? Good Morning Everyone! Happy Monday! Did everyone watch the Golden Globes last night? As you know by now, I'm a huge consumer of entertainment in all its forms. One of the reasons I love awards season is because I end up finding out about new shows and movies that I didn't previously have on my radar.
There are so many amazing TV shows and movies being made right now. It truly feels like we're in a golden age of creation in a way that we haven't been in a while. The Golden Globes also cemented for me that I need to go and see La La Land. I've been wanting to see it for the better part of a year, it's truly my kind of movie. I'm a die-hard fan of musicals in general and it looks magical. Apparently I'm not the only one who thought so since it won several awards last night. The opening number was predictably fun and silly. It's exactly the kind of opening that I would have expected from Jimmy Fallon; bright, colorful, musical… I was happy to see some of my favorites win. Claire Foy and the Crown were definitely deserving as were the Night Manager and it's stars Tom Hiddleston and Hugh Laurie. Casey Affleck was certainly the obvious choice to win the Best Actor in a Drama, but with good reason. One of the most eloquent parts of the ceremony was the honoring of Meryl Streep by Viola Davis. The speech Viola made in honor of Meryl was beautiful and nearly brought me to tears. In watching the clips of Meryl's movies, it's clear to me that I have not seen enough of them. I also thought that Meryl's speech for the acceptance of the lifetime achievement award was well stated and passionate. Whether or not you agreed with her statements or the politics behind them, I found her speech to be a classy and well thought out admonishment of the behavior of our President-Elect. Predictably he lashed out this morning, behaving like a child instead of concerning himself with actual matters of state. That's for another post someday though. I cannot wait to get home from work today so that I can start watching more of the talented people who were nominated and won last night. Below is the link for the full list of winners and nominees. I encourage you to go through it and find something new to watch. The arts of the best expression of our humanity. http://www.goldenglobes.com/winners-nominees Even as I typed out the title for this piece, I knew it would never live up to the thoughts in my head. Carrie Fisher passed away yesterday and my Facebook newsfeed exploded with tributes. It's still exploding with tributes. I wholeheartedly understand what she meant to a generation of people of all ages. She was strong and fierce and outspoken. She refused to kowtow to mainstream standards of how women "should" behave. She inspired generations of young women. She was one of our icons. It's sad that she's gone.
Some of her quotes: http://nymag.com/thecut/2016/12/15-of-carrie-fishers-best-most-honest-feminist-quotes.html?wpsrc=nymag My thoughts turned to Aleppo yesterday amongst all the posting about Carrie Fisher. I was struggling to understand why so many people would post about a single actress and her untimely passing rather than posting about the horrors of Aleppo. I've seen countless articles and pictures of the aftermath of the bombings in that area. Bodies mangled and children crying. Where's the grief for them? Why are the masses not posting about Aleppo every day instead of making memes about another celebrity death? I think that if you challenged some of these people on this matter, they may not even be able to verbalize the issue. They may tell you that Carrie Fisher helped shaped their childhood and that they are grieving for that; but is that really enough? Something like this is so massive and complex that I already know that my tiny brain isn't equipped to make the proper arguments in full detail…but I'm at least going to try. It's no secret that Americans have a sense of entitlement that appears to surpass those of other nationalities. In fact, in writing that sentence, my own ingrained hubris had to take a backseat to remind myself that to everyone else in the world, being American would be considered a nationality. For so many of us it's simply inconceivable that we would be discriminated against due to our gender or race (I'm looking at you white men). Despite the fact that it's happening now and in our own country pales in comparison to how other nations have had to live. So what exactly are we entitled to? Free speech? The right to bear arms? What happens when someone decides that you don't have the right to live? What would you do if someone else decided that you, as a human person with thoughts and feelings, don't have the right to breathe? To love? To sleep peacefully with no worries as to whether bombs will be dropped on your homes? Aren't those things we should all be entitled to regardless of race or religion? We've created a culture of being spoiled. Somehow we've elected Trump and still manage to give the Kardashians all our money. We've decided that "glamour" and money are more prized than things like clean drinking water and food to eat. We will never truly understand what it is like for Syrian refugees and Aleppo victims. We're immensely lucky to have been born into a country in which things like what is happening overseas don't happen here. This is such a huge part of why we don't seem to care about Aleppo but we care about another celebrity death. We have no basis of comparison. We've lived so long in relative peace that even when confronted with the horrors of war, we refuse to truly let it sink in. I've been guilty of it myself. I have turned off the news because the thing I'm dealing with is already too much. I don't have room in my heart or in my head for something that I can't tangibly fix. It's hard for me to mourn for an actress that I never met when there are thousands suffering and struggling to stay safe and alive. Here's the question I would posit to you. If you were in the position of someone from Aleppo and you heard about the millions of tweets and posts and all the outpouring of grief for one single actress…while you're trying to find out if your family is still alive? How would you feel? Here's an article on how to help Aleppo financially: http://people.com/human-interest/ways-to-help-aleppo/ I realize I've talked in circles. I've solved nothing. I've done nothing but gripe. I'm entitled to that too, right? The lyric says it for me:
So this is Christmas, And what have you done? Another year older, A new one just begun. Thanks John Lennon. Thanks a lot. I realize that the song is meant to inspire hope but it honestly makes me sad. What HAVE I done this year? I've worked my ass off. I know it was worth it in general. I was able to pay for vacations and new furniture that I desperately needed. All my clothes were in plastic bins for crying out loud. I never felt like I wasted my time while I was doing it. I just made it part of my lifestyle. Now that I have nothing to do, however, I feel like I'm wasting time. It's made worse this week by the fact that my dog is having her own little vacation from me at my mother's house. There's a yard and my mom's dog and she gets to have a little more fun hanging out in the sun with them rather than being cooped up in the house waiting for me to get home. I come home and I make dinner. Then I watch TV. But TV feels like I'm wasting reading time. So I turn off the TV and read. But then reading feels like I'm wasting TV time. There's nothing left to clean. There's nothing left to organize. I've already rearranged my living room. I physically can't rearrange the bedroom because of the bed to window ratio. I flat out stared at the wall for a solid thirty minutes the other night. I supposed that this was mentally clarifying, I zoned out and thought of nothing…but I can't stand it. I can't allow my brain to be idle. The holidays are especially weird for me. I prefer the Christmas season to the day itself. The day itself has become me sitting alone in my apartment with my Christmas movies and my Chinese food pretending I'm Jewish and that the lack of family doesn't bother me. I should be grateful for what I have. I have the opportunity to see some members of my family on Christmas day. The problem is that I long for the days of Christmas past. The ones where we were all still living in the same state. Where I had three Christmases. Where my Grandparents were still alive. Where I felt whole. A lot of my malaise has to do with the fact that I still miss my Grandfather more around this time of year. This was his favorite time of year. Most of my happiest family Christmas memories happened at his home. All of us together opening our gifts in the order of our age. Now that both he and my Grandma are gone, I can't imagine spending any holiday in their home. I know that's not fair to the rest of the family who want to do so, but I feel like I want to be selfish with this. I know that I shouldn't. Maybe next year. Side note about the John Lennon song? I had no idea Yoko Ono sang in it, I honestly thought it was 100% the children in the background and that's why it was so screechy. I apparently do not understand how wallowing is supposed to work. I lost my second job last night. I got the standard corporate answers as to why. Restructuring, low workload, new management…
It's always the same reasons. Financially this is only moderately panic inducing. I won't starve. I won't end up without a home. My bills will continue to be paid and be paid on time. It's the crushing debts that are the issue. I originally took the second job as a way to make some extra cash in order to pay down all that delightful credit card debt I acquired. It worked! To an extent. Once I got comfortable I started buying things again. I paid off some debts and I acquired new ones. I paid that down and bought more stuff I didn't need. Some things I DID need. I needed a dresser. All of my clothes was being housed in stackable plastic bins. I am no longer a college student and I needed a real dresser. This was purchased alongside a bedframe and head/footboard. I haven't had one of those since I was a kid. I was adulting. When I got the news last night I ended up having a good ol' fashioned meltdown. Without even realizing it I was sobbing AND online looking for something new. My brain was doing two things at once. I was having two extreme emotions at the same time. Extreme sadness and extreme logical thought. Since I found out, I have cancelled all my subscription services (except Netflix, I'm not a monster!), reworked the budget, adjusted my 401K contributions, applied for one full time new job and one that is part time work-from-home. The fill time thing is a lark. There's likely no way I'd get it, but it is my dream job. Couldn’t bring myself not to try. I'm still sad about it. I teared up a little today thinking about it. I loved that second job. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the money it provided. While it's incredibly sad that we live in a world in which a person has to work two jobs to live comfortably; I am forever grateful that at the same time I live in a world where I can work part time from home. While I sort everything out, I will get to write and read more. I'll get to work on my websites. I'll be able to spend more time doing the things that I enjoy doing that I haven't been able to do for the last year and a half. I should be curled up on the couch with junk food and my favorite show, mourning the loss of my hefty second income. But I can't. I'm a planner. My wheels have to be in motion at all times otherwise I'll stop to notice they are a little wobbly.
One of the heroes of my childhood is gone. John Glenn passed away today. To understand my grief, you need to understand where I grew up. I was born and raised in a small beach town called Cocoa Beach. Many of you may know where this is because of I Dream of Jeannie. If you don’t, then geographically you should know that my town is adjacent to Cape Canaveral. My town exists because of the space program.
My parents moved to Cocoa Beach in the 1960s and they grew up watching rockets take men into space and then to the moon. I grew up with my Father and Stepmother (and half the parents of friends) working at the Kennedy Space Center helping to launch the Shuttle. Rockets and shuttles launching from Cape Canaveral is a part of my childhood. You'd hear the rumble and rush outside to watch the vehicle lift itself into space. The space program is a part of my family’s history. My Grandfather was the principal of Cocoa Beach Elementary for many years. Along the way, he talked people into putting the school’s American flag in the Freedom 7 capsule as it made its way into space. The flag came back to the school and the school was renamed Freedom 7. That flag? It’s now in the museum at the KSC Visitor’s Complex. I realize that John Glenn did not actually pilot Freedom 7, he went to space on Frienship 7. The entire Mercury team helped shaped my family's lives and the lives of countless others. When John Glenn went back into space in 1998? I watched the shuttle carry him into space and I was there to watch him in the parade through town when he came back. If I were back home, I’d include the wonderful picture we have of my grandparents standing with him after the parade. John Glenn represented so much to all of us. His legacy within the Space Program forward helped propel my family forward in its own way. He taught us to be brave, to explore and learn, to push boundaries, and practice accountability. Without his willingness (and that of the other original astronauts) to put his life on the line so that the human race could expand their consciousness, I truly believe we would not have half the innovation we have today. He was a pioneer and a great man. He will be missed. |