Night with the Walton's

April 30, 2013

He drawled questions regarding my financial status, concerns about why I am moving, who would be living with me, confirmed he accepts dogs on the property while chirping saw noises, drilling, banging and sharp tings of metal sounded in the background. Barking out orders to the laborer, everything is included in the rent save electricity and phone charges, providing directions about how to configure the window openings, the space has one bathroom, number of coats of varnish the wood flooring requires as I was left hanging, the gent mumbled complaints about the cold temperatures and lack of varathane material. Insisting he has several houses available in St Paul and rambled on describing the walk-out unit, third floor renovated apartment, kennel out back, off-street parking and safe neighborhoods in between orders to the invisible man, I became impatient with the fragmented conversation. Many of the other endless listing agents were unavailable so I had to leave several messages regarding my interest in their properties and must wait for them to contact me. House-hunting is a necessary chore. I am meeting disjointed Bill tomorrow at one of his homes.

Needing a guarantee of three times the rent, damage deposit for the dog, copy of my driver’s license, commitment of at least a year, showings with multiple people, copies of my bank statements, encouragement to have cash-on-hand if I am interested and yet thrilled to find many options for my maximum comfort in monthly rent.

Which comes first?

More Cover Letters and Resumes, lengthy company applications and salary requirements, letters of interest and corporate research eat up the day. A telemarketing firm which allows me to work from home is in contact with me. The process includes a written assessment with specifics on the font, number of sentences and letter size. I have a mock client contact to generate at 1:00pm tomorrow and directives to send a confirmation email once the role play script is complete. It is a strange and glorious time in a job seeker’s life!

My surgery is finalized so my pre-op physical and visit with the surgeon is on Friday of this week. Too numb to rejoice. More Minnesota insurance information to complete and past due bills to coordinate for re-billing. How to get to and from the hospital, move all of my belongings to my new pad (once I find it) and help Taelor with her transition from the dorm so that is out of the way while I am still mobile. Jumpin’ jahosefat!

Forgotten birthday cards and thank you notes as time slides by, the days in a great stupor of non-events and chasing my tail. It feels like forward motion and maybe I am mistaken, it is all a big fat lie. Nothing seems as important in the moment and everything is dire. Weary and a strain to keep my head from bobbling off to one side. Where does one day end and the other begin?

And then it hits me, I don’t have a sofa, chairs to go with the diningroom table, a glass to my name yet, I located my toothbrush and that provides enough relief to permit myself to go to bed.

Night John Boy!

And your little dog too!

April 29, 2013

Forever scrounging through my boxes and bags in search for a much needed item lost in the context of my life. The terrain of forgiveness, compassion, pain, recreating normal can be a stumbling block for serenity any given day. Difficult to keep track of the days of the week, month and season when there is no routine to hang onto. Today slithered by then sped up around dinnertime until we fed the horses and the evening snakes into dusk.

Searching for housing so that I am set in one place, not having to relocate several times over the course of a year. Ground level, fenced in yard for the beast, hardwood flooring, easygoing neighborhood to walk the dog, bus system accessibility, open floor plan, bright wide windows to let in the light and warm the plants, enough room to house Taelor when she comes for a visit. Long to pull out my things from their boxes admire and revel in the past experiences that attach themselves to my heart and people who were a part of that era.

I have always liked the process of a move, setting things up in a new configuration, exploring opportunities of the corners, curves and areas in between windows and doorways. Yardsaling is a favored pastime, filling in the holes of essentials and purchasing treasures that make the place my own, reflecting who I am now and dreaming about the shifts that bring me around and about until the time I depart and move on. The thrill of filling up the cabinets, sorting jackets and ill-fitted shoes in closets, organizing the kitchen cupboards and shelving clothes I have not seen for awhile is simply devine.

Discovering hideaways in the neighborhood and hole-in-the-wall treasures to share with friends and family when they come for a time is stirring. Meeting new friends and people I can rely on for information about the area, sharing what we choose of ourselves creates the community I long for again. Perhaps there will be a pea patch nearby, a communal garden to work together and share the fruits of our labors. A commotion of a dog park is also welcomed since it brings people and their little Totos together!

(En)chanting

April 28, 2013

Chanting with the solemn Buddhist Monks makes me vibrate with charismatic energy. I buzz to my core and feel the positive light swooping-in to secure my position in life, the sense gently of being taken care of forever. Had forgotten how profoundly comforting and insurmountably secure that loving process is. Like being wrapped into a tightly wound wool blanket around my soul, a cocooned baby burrito surrounded by a steady tribe of Guides to ensure prosperous fortune on an indirect path in this wide world.

Drugged smiles plastered on faces of the Unity community as we sit ‘round the tables in a great room drinking steamy coffee and snarffing (ok, I am snarffing and they are nibbling) cakes and cheese/crackers, bite-sized chunks of fruit and miniature macaroons (hence the snarffing!) This cluster of people who are attending the service in Golden Valley have become my extended family of sorts. Everyone is welcome which makes for a varied gathering and colorful conversation. We are like-minded folks seeking spiritual and personal insight.

The Monks hum in deep range from the stage, speaking in their native language with a jovial and engaging interpreter. I am enchanted and cheered beyond measure. The men sport shaved heads, don the typical red robes with chubby red socks and substantial boots as though they had to hike the high mountains surrounding Tibet afterwards. Unfortunately they are still no longer free to do just that, thanks to the Chinese government. Yet that is another story and perhaps another blog! “Save Tibet” is an amazing organization if you are interested in pursuing an education about the monks nasty adventure with China. I have had the great privilege of encountering several of spiritual enlightenment seekers throughout my life, somber monks who gave me some insight as to their personal atrocious plight and undeniable loss of “home.”

The message from the service entailed accepting love and compassion then generously spreading it to our extended community and around the planet. I imagine a group of enlightened beings stretched in front of me then slowly joined by a few others then more and more until I am surrounded by happy people. We encase the Guides in our energy and then, upon inspection, I can ascertain a gentle curve of the globe with more and more show of heads. The planet is One…fabulous!

Bug-eyed Bruiser

April 27, 2013

Animal Rescue agencies struggle to find the necessary monies, foster families, people willing to adopt the pathetic pets whisked away in the nick of time prior to getting gassed at the over-crowded shelters across the country. Bruiser (a major whiner but sweet) and Darby (sensitive and shy) were riding shotgun this morning from Coon Rapids to the Lake Calhoun Chuck and Don’s for an adoption event. www.smalldogsminnesota.org shows all of the ankle-biters that my friend is drooling over to add to her brood. If you are so inclined, check out the tiny beasts and see how many you can fit into your household! I would much rather offer them up for Tyrus to have for an afternoon snack! Oh boy.

Flowers In Bloom is something to behold. Spent a number of hours strolling, occasionally eavesdropping in on the docent’s speech or absorbing the history of individual exhibits through osmosis. I adore the people watching-from sensible shoes and matching khaki shorts and sunscreen shirts to flowing skirts, strappy sandals and silk tops. People peering around every corner, methodically taking-in each piece, as if absorbing themselves in the scene, smelling the details of the scene, teacher’s pets reading the description notes on the plaque dutifully pasted to the left or folks like me, zooming in on one particular piece that catches my eye and move-on relatively quickly. The flowers are stunning, brilliantly and strategically placed throughout the venue.

The docent, petite, blonde though I suspect she is of Asian descent, was a plethora of intriguing information regarding the unique pieces. She had taken the time to research some of the artists on-line and quote from articles, recited lengthy poems, and attention-grabbing facts and figures about the art. She appeared to be an employee with significant pride in her job and a determined concentration in the audience.

Emily’s Lebanese Deli was packed for lunch so we were able to listen-in on the conversation going on in a 180 around us. Such a pleasure to notice the smiles, delight in being outdoors in the sunshine sans snow and ice from six months of winter weather. Everyone seemed giddy, hysterical and drug-induced with newfound grass underfoot.  

I'd like to call your attention to...

April 26, 2013

Beau likes to sleep with the new house guest. He is a bed hog and snores, zips and moves around a lot to take up what little space there is left. It is a restless night with him as a bed partner but difficult to shut the door and ignore the constant Boxer whining on the other side. He didn’t care that unresolved desires kept me tossing and turning throughout the short evening or that I had to get up in the dark to stumble out of bed, shower to wake up, make coffee and head out thru the garage so as not to wake anyone. Sure I forgot something essential to get me through the next few days away from the Tundra.

The parking modules in front of the Government Center do not accept payment until 7:30am so I organized the vehicle, rolled through my story (in my head) and swiped my card as soon as the machine allowed. Sharpened my elbows while entering the spacious waiting room, signs posted with lists of items to have on-hand when approaching the clerk. She was a cheerful full-figured blonde, efficient and effective in adding my name to the system and sweeping her arm in a Vanna White gesture to the next room. I brought plenty of publications to read and toss one the pile of magazines for others to enjoy after tearing out the businesses to market on another day.

The slim and petite olive-complected woman with lime green slacks and a matching scarf swooped across her left shoulder came to attend to me. She had me follow her tiny figure to her desk that guarded a peanut butter sandwich with a few bites taken out of it on the fly. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her snack since I had not eaten yet. Gulped a cup of coffee on the road and was fending off starvation in the moment. She didn’t notice yet might have given me more EBT points if she had!

I clutched all of my necessary documents, including but not limited to: tax returns, car insurance confirmation and registration, letter from my friends claiming I am not paying rent, my SS card, checking and savings statements, investment portfolio information, dental insurance 800 number since they didn’t send me a membership card, my passport and driver’s license, Brasil airline ticket information and my permanent address junk mail.

After investigating all of my papers and asking me a gazillion questions, it was declared I could have MA immediately. Probably didn’t hurt that I have a huge blister on my left ankle and am hobbling even more than the day before! That was NOT intentional, I swear! At least I didn’t feel the need to press out tears of anguish or suck my cheeks in for a more pathetic profile!

No confirmation of my surgery date so I don’t want to cry wolf again…will keep you in the loop!

Under the weather

April 25, 2013

I honestly did not require more material for my blog yet, as it turns out, I have just that.

The health care group’s dedicated team committed to performing and offering pre and post services for my foot surgery will not permit me to schedule the operation until I am fully covered by insurance. The Human Services program switched me from one representing county to another so the wait time is extended even further out. Approval or not will be determined in another 30 to 45 days. I feel out of integrity seeking traditional employment with the understanding that I will be “out” on medical leave or incapacitated for six weeks or more. Hm…where to go from here?

If I allow myself to feel the despairing disappointment or let the daunting circumstances seep-in I can go into a hideous downward spiral. I realize I am not dying, I am not homeless, I am not bedridden, I am not hungry nor tired nor poor yet the utter discouragement and sense of being OUT OF CONTROL is overwhelming.

There are a few comfortable places with caring friends I can stay for as long as I need to yet I yearn for my own bed, own pillow and the ability to run naked for the phone if I feel the urge. I am a burden no matter what anyone claims. It seems as though I am at the mercy of the system. Individual representatives whom, even after hearing my pathetic story, my exasperating circumstances, have no creative nor alternative solutions. The accusatory silence on the other end of the phone is frightening. I can only stop myself from explanations that lead me nowhere or actually to the end of the shame, guilt and fear line. Without a life preserver or paddle.

So, I clean the house, scrub, dust, wipe, scour, vacuum and chase around animal hair while bleeding contempt with sweat and vigor. If I were someone else perhaps, I would get rip-roaring drunk or eat the entire contents in the sparkling clean refrigerator until I vomited. I seethe, thinking I should be able to dredge up an ocean of tears or run screaming bloody murder out the back door into the dark of night. I feel numb, blind, inept and droopy-eyed weary.

Get out my list of potential venues for a friend’s book signing event and start making phone calls. At least I can feel productive and shout out the hole in my oozing gut.

Eagle scout

April 24, 2013

Unexpected results make me soar and dip like the beautiful juvenile eagle as I get positive results from my blind cover letter and resume recipients. On a roll then unexplicably sliding intermittently backwards into the dip of strategic planning. The creative employment opportunities come from the void space of nothing and can be stimulating and encouraging or just downright euphoric. Much better experience than the umpteen laborious resume collaboration and expecting responses that seem to catapult into internet cyberspace and float on to the “OUT” basket or file marked “TRASH.” Who are all of those computer programmers that plug in scanners to egg on the human resources representative to eject the documents that do not match the exact criteria based on verbiage from the job descriptions? Heartless bastards! Oh, is that you? Sorry, don’t take it personally!

The “Game of Job Seeking” will not be sold in toy stores across the country ending up on discount tables and clearance shelves anytime soon. It is not a fun game, it is not for the family with small children, those weak of heart or who only play to win.

A chill of winter/spring air trills down my spine and wraps around my flesh that continues to yearn and pay me back for leaving the humid warmth lush and welcoming breezes of Brasil. My intention was to arrive here and continue to work on my Portenglish, seeking out elders who are incapable of leaving their homes, keep them company while puttering thru their native language. Where did that intension get lost in the shuffle of hunting and pecking, scratching all undeniably brittle surfaces for a right livelihood, shoveling snacks at inappropriate hours of the day and night, inevitably tossing back and forth in a reclined position while fighting off sleeplessness, walking in the wind with an unbalanced gait, dressing for success and applying makeup to hide the disappointment and fright of the future?

I glance at faces plunging into the grocery isles this morning with their cart, unlikely shopping list contributes items to idle cupboards, yawning refrigerators and empty intestines, freezers spilling out guilt and undeniable flush of filling a need. I assisted an aging spotty man with ears as large as the cabbage head in his basket at the checkout. He told me Coborns is the only place he has to go today and was certainly in no hurry to get back home. We clucked at one another for the few minutes it took to load up his un-socially responsible plastic bags in the cart. I felt sorry for the inappropriate choice and sent him along his way back to the empty house gawking from the street. Unfortunately I do not believe he speaks Portuguese. Maybe I will suggest paper bags the next time I see him and maybe I will let him continue on his path of ignorance. It is bliss after all!  

Healthcare heaven or hell?

April 23, 2013

Happy Birthday Maria and Emy!

If the cost of healthcare equates with the general pain and suffering that goes along with making decisions about a reliable and competent surgeon, prime operative dedicated staff in a surgery-specific suite, professional post-op capable and proficient staff, unwavering in-resident support, a single-level home for re-cooperation, consistent transportation to and from therapy sessions, a chef, bath helper, dog walker, laundress and movie deliverer then it should be worth millions!

I discussed the surgery options with Doc today. During an outpatient surgical procedure he will remove the plate and seven screws, perform a left ankle arthoroscopy with debridement of syndesmosis and delayed syndesmosis repair. Yes, it is all Greek to me as well, however I get the gist of it. There is a physical therapist on-site at his practice which I can utilize for my post-surgical torture. Wahoo! Hoping to get in on the 13^th of May and be walking on it by June 24^th. Now there is sufficient time to find a job that I can easily accomplish in front of my laptop or on the trusty cell phone with my leg propped and on ice, preferably in my pjs.

We had the equine veterinarian out to the house today who serviced all of the horses (4,) dogs (5) and outdoor cat this morning. She inoculated, wormed, checked teeth, skin, gums, lumps, coats, drew blood and whispered in everyone’s ears (save the humans.) Ty is set for another year and just has to figure out how he can reimburse me for the $157 I paid out today. He hasn’t gotten the pooper scooper down yet so maybe I can put him to work with Reading Rover (allowing children to read to him,) act as a Japanese Beetle search and rescue or perhaps answer my cell phone and take messages.

One of the sassy cats found a garter snake in the house this morning, another caught a squirrel and sawed it in half, leaving the back end for us to meow over in the garage. Yuck!

Go play!

April 22, 2013

3 to 5 inches…really? Raining and forcasted to turn to snow, blowing moisture, wetting the car that houses my blankets, two mix-and-match business suits, tall cool black boots, fuzzy-topped suede boots, a scraper (need it!) 35 pound bag of venison and sweet potato dog food, Ty’s bowls, leash, biodegradable poop bags, laptop case, cord, loaded dob kit, toothbrush that tends to snivel it’s way to the bottom of the vinyl striped bag I bought in the open market in Florianopolis and selfishly adore far too much to gift it away. Books shoved under the seat, folded cloth shopping sacks hidden in the side panel, maps in the side pockets, scouting knife, insurance documents and granola bars hide out in the dark of the glove box and GBS plugged-into the cigarette lighter for extra security when I can’t find my way ‘round the block for the life of me. Ah, the 4WD I fondly refer to as Forca (Power,) an incredible space on wheels that allows me to harbor my hard feelings, breed contempt and doesn’t take it out on me the next day. Who could live out of their car? Takes guts, determination and desperation in this inclement weather.  I could very well reside in my vehicle for at least 48 hours I ponder, given my purse has all that I need for a good day and a half! Give me a spray bottle of alkaline water for drinking and occasional bathing and I am set! Oh, for Pete’s sake, don’t get all freaked out on me, it is just my pragmatic side coming out sideways in light of my circumstances. Doubt I will ever REALLY have to live off of the items in my purse and within the confines of my vehicle.

I have permission to fire up the erratic computer and rant on occasion don’t you think?

Things you may not be aware of and should:

• Cut the telemarketer off as soon as you are aware of the fact that you are listening to a sales pitch. They will appreciate not having to go through the entire five minute script only to have you claim you are not interested!
• While watching a comedy play (especially live) laugh at everything as soon as you get the joke. The actor would rather have to repeat her/his line than to miss the audience’s interaction!
• Do not hide your cash or valuables under clothing or other items at the bottom of a drawer or closet. Thieves simply run their outstretched arms under everything in the dresser drawers and closets.
• Not under the mattress either!
• Tom’s long lasting deodorant does not work!
• A house cat can and will catch a squirrel!
• Ben and Jerry’s is no longer owned by Ben or Jerry. I’m sorry!
• Brick House (alias Memorial Stadium) is also a bar by the same name off University of MN campus famous for their beers served in a tin bucket and of course, the song “Brick House” which brought up our fond memories of Friday nights in the pub near campus close to the stadium…ha!
• A scissors is necessary to pry open a bag of Chicka Boom popcorn (sea salt is my favorite!)
• A walk outdoors, no matter the weather, is uplifting. Go outside and play!

Biased breathing

April 21, 2013

The energy in the church always feels more peaceful and welcoming. Why is it that I tear-up at the slightest hum from the choir or gurgle of the pianist’s throat? Meditation sets my ducts flowing since I have the luxury of time to note my roaming inadequate and unwelcomed thoughts and inevitable hunger pains.

I have been requesting assistance from “up there” for quite some time. Seems like years of yearning, wishing, hoping, pleading with results a far cry from the requirements. How can I insist there is such an energy of promise, miraculous intervention when it does not materialize in my own life? “Whatever the proper lesson, please know I have learned it!” insisted one of my recent clients. I wholeheartedly agree. Yet, what other option do I have than to continue forward, in motion, expecting a decent well-paying job, comfortable place to finally call home and a completely healed foot. What alternatives appear more reasonable, increasingly effective and undeniably productive?

People who know me well are in disbelief and thrown off guard by my discouragement. I am tough, resilient, pragmatic and never ever give up or give in. Hope has turned into expectation which in turn lead to disappointment and what remains is the leftovers that have grown green and fuzzy which everyone tends to ignore in the corner of the refrigerator. Who wants to talk about the Great White Elephant in someone else’s livingroom (since I don’t have one at the moment?)

So I lie on the floor, pat, stroke and hug Tyrus while waiting for the tea water to heat up. Put the bag in the cup and sip the earthy liquid for there is nothing left to do in the moment. Breathe.

Where I "am"

April 20, 2013

Maybe I can run like Forrest Gump, kick off the hardware attached to my ankle bone, freeing myself of the burden of sideways glances and frowning stares as I prop my foot up on the seat next to me in the little Anne Smiley Theatre.

“Five Women Wearing the Same Dress” is incredible! It is playing at Hamline University Theatre. We had a great time interacting with the characters from the second row.  

Five Women Wearing the Same Dress at Hamline University Anne Smiley Theatre, Th, Fri, and Sat eves this coming week at 7:30. Please go and show your support of Taelor and the ARTS! It is fabulously funny so bring your friends for a great comedy show:
During an ostentatious wedding reception at a Knoxville, Tennessee, estate, five reluctant, identically clad bridesmaids hide out in an upstairs bedroom, each with her own reason to avoid the proceedings below. They are Frances, a painfully sweet but sheltered fundamentalist; Mindy, the cheerful, wise-cracking lesbian sister of the groom; Georgeanne, whose heartbreak over her own failed marriage triggers outrageous behavior; Meredith (my lovely Taelor,) the bride's younger sister whose precocious rebelliousness masks a dark secret; and Trisha, a jaded beauty whose die-hard cynicism about men is called into question when she meets Tripp, a charming bad-boy usher to whom there is more than meets the eye. As the afternoon wears on, these five very different women joyously discover a common bond in this wickedly funny, irreverent and touching celebration of the women's spirit.

My jumpy and nervous mind-set brings forth my personal life's harsh realities. Anger and rejection flare-up while having to interject where I "am” which seems entirely unfair. I am hardly able to contain the moodiness underpinning my reactions when I speak with a long-time friend over the phone. In order to restore equilibrium I have to walk to the library and get a film or two. It will likely be just the remedy for my nervous and emotionally imbalanced mood. There is an entire universe outside the life I lead, dang-it-all! Some days it is most difficult to laugh at myself and circumstances.

News worthy

April 19, 2013

Bogged down by the whirling ten plus inches of snow. The report from my CT is more bad news. The fibula fracture is not completely healed (which he claims is not a big deal,) a bone spur was discovered above the heel, plate side is not healing properly either and, as we know, all seven screws and plate must be removed. I will speak directly with the capable surgeon about various options and get my plethora of questions answered early next week. I noticed two of the pins poking out of the skin on the outer bone this morning. Like the three-legged frog it is simply a subtle reminder that all is not well.

Three hounds keep my feet warm while I watch the lime green capped and jacketed waste management representative empty the cans out in the back alley. He looks as disgusted about the weather conditions as the next guy. I thought about the snow shoveling serviceman who has to return time and time again this season to prevent his clients from calling other businesses for snow removal. A slippery slope. I put in my two cents last night which actually felt good to see progress in my efforts.

CNN has been on most of the morning, catching silent glimpses of the young man we are all stalking, tossing around his character flaws, delving into his behaviors, horrendous acts and history. I consider what he may be experiencing in these hours of inevitable capture. Suppose he thinks about his demise and whether he can manage the remainder of his life in prison or contemplate the alternative. Nowhere to turn and no one to provide support nor comfort, let alone food and much needed sleep. Being on the run and everyone locked-down to focus all energy on the trap must be arduous.  

I pray the outcome happens sooner than later and there is some relief brought to the victims in this horrific tragedy.

Tired treads

April 18, 2013

The CT was not what I expected. My foot was taped down to immobilize it and I jerked back and forth on the platform in and out of the donut hole-just like in the movies. Amazing the clinic can charge $1020 for the scan and $172 for the radiologist to interpret the results when the test took about six minutes! Much less drama than I imagined. No, I didn’t cry.

Slipped on my snug boot to race off to my interview with a chiropractor while the snow flurries began falling. I am confident I can assist with marketing his business and creating a series of seminars so more people are educated in the field of cranial sacral therapy. I used the analogy of reality television shows, insisting they are popular since the audience is riveted to pain and suffering then root for a favorable outcome. If one wants to heal people then it is best to encourage more practitioners to utilize his innovative methods. Moving forward with an independent contract so I am still technically a job seeker.

Winter wonderland in April? Had a sweaty and unladylike language return trip this afternoon. I barely made it up the long slope out of the parking lot, sliding a bit in the back of the vehicle and wondered what the folks looking out the windows thought of me! Oh well, it couldn’t be helped so I just encouraged “Forca” by backing up several times and spinning my wheels until she righted and moved forward. No thoughts stuck in my head, songs did not sooth my frantic angst and breathing came in bursts until I pulled into the pet store lot near my destination.

I am organizing book signing events for a new author and friend. The book is written to help children and parents understand the issues of the journey of cancer. The story of a brave black lab that contracts cancer and little girl is touching and well illustrated. A portion of the proceeds from the book sales goes towards cancer research. Very enthusiastic pet store owners!

Fluffy snow collected in the sturdy shovel and tossed over my shoulder and the side of the garage while the dogs bark in frenzied excitement behind me in the fenced yard. Later trudged to the library, explained to the cheerful blonde woman with a tilted smile bundled in a tired yellow fleece jacket that I have been out of commission in the library system and would I be able to borrow some much needed video entertainment this snowy evening sans my card? Although I somehow accumulated a $1.90 fine it would not prevent me from taking out several films her pale nodding head assured me. Pinched in my back pocket is my coin purse which held several ones and change which I turned over to the clerk claiming the County Library could have my extra .10 since it was no longer useful to call my mother. Her larger-than-life hand pushed the dime across the wide counter to insist I take the change. Every little bit helps, I suppose.

Lazer surgery

April 17, 2013

I awoke with a start as someone stomped on a cat and it screamed in defiance and surprise. “Tolerance” was the first word that came to mind as I glanced at my puffy eyes and hurricane hairdo, pulled on yesterday’s jeans, fresh long-sleeved shirt and crumpled socks to make my way down the hall, pad down the carpeted stairs and out the front door to toss the horses their breakfast. Midnight wanted the delectable grain from the bottom of the wheel barrel which I feed him directly from my bare outstretched hand. His soft whispery breath graced my palm and I look into his deep eyes and wondered what miraculous ideas he has for saving the planet, if any. I’m certain, if given the opportunity, the beasts of the world could share grandiose and innovative plans! I believe it is time to ask the questions and listen for the response.

As luck would have it, the wind died and I made my way around the round pen in the crispy morning in awe of the barren beauty. Stark spindly trees line the perimeter of the cold fence and bluebird sky kisses the brown trodden grasses. The self-incriminating emotions of yesterday are in the past, rejection emails and arduous applications brought about uncompromising impudent words. Audacity is imprisonment that turns me outward with words.

What I am yearning for is a bit more stability, accepting productivity as more than a four letter word and a comfort level about the future. Packing up once again for several days living out of a bag makes me crabby and wrestling with my irresponsible pal, Unkept. My friend, “L” whom I had not seen for quite some time told me that her husband and she were talking about me prior to our getting reacquainted. Randy remembers I was forever late and …wrinkled. I glance down and discover I am still wrinkled in more ways than one. An iron has never been a favored nor forgiving companion. The other wrinkles I cannot do anything about unless I succumb to the Botox doctor. Sigh.

Rescheduled the CT scan and have an informal interview tomorrow. I plan on doing my own lazer surgery tonight so the outcome will be both phenomenal and favorable. What do you think?

Dia do Tiago

April 16, 2013

His sensitive mother suffered from tongue cancer and ultimately died despite the aggressive and exceedingly excruciating treatments when he was merely four years old. They had taken her away in the old wooden-sided station wagon with blue smoke spewing from the back. Her skin had been tight as a bulldog’s and face, once exquisitely wrinkled, eyes nearly shut in their midst, now bulgy and shooting out waves of fear and longing. His memory cannot take him far down the path since it is surrounded in the wisp of dim light, windows draped in mourning and slight fragrance of peonies.

His salvation to this day is playing a violin constructed from scraps in the heap of garbage his father painstakingly glommed from beneath the rot and stench of plastic-filled mounds in the local smelly dump where he works day in and day out. The bits of warped wood and flattened plastic forms transposed into a beautiful and eloquent instrument he learned to play without instruction, seemingly intrinsic, for the sounds that extended out from  make-shift strings were astonishingly mature for his tender years.

Capybara is Tiago’s totem, given honorably to him by his great grandfather, White Bear. As an infant Tiago was taken on a daily trek into the dank swampy marsh to submerge his head and encourage instinctive paddling in the brackish water. As the Capybara is both undeniably social and intuitively resourceful, White Bear proudly presented Tiago with a dignified spirit to guide and press him to reach further in his potentially troubled yet enlightened life.

Tiago has great expectations of the role he will play in his growing community of South American tribal members. He imagines himself proud and important in his accomplished future, a father of many little mud brown-eyed children to pass along significant totems to take them on the journey to the Great Underworld.

The little people, living vicariously under the earth, play mischievous pranks on those unfortunate souls who remain stuck on the other side of the soil with their challenges and limitations of being human. Tiago has heard many stories from his elder about these spirits who guide and press individuals to live into the respect and honor of the great hunters, auspicious gatherers and medicine people from generations gone by. He must be proficient in his native language for how else is he to communicate with them, understand their legends if he cannot hear of the journey from the sing song rhythm? The elders come in his dream-time sleep with visions, sensations of successful hunts, voices of messenger birds and cunning bears.

It is with great pride and immense patience Tiago's round as a dignified boar form forces his way through the slurry to collect the herbs and medicinal plants his grandmother requires for her daily treatments. She is a wise and resourceful woman, tending to the village of young children and coming-of-age, chomping at the bit to be considered established as a valuable contributor in the small tender community in the depths of the valley.

Tiago is among us so prepare yourself for the touch of a small hand, whisper of benevolent messages and tender empathetic smiles. Perhaps he resides in your heart.

Marathon madness

Tax Day 2013

The Boston Marathon tragedy leaves the household in a wake of confusion and distress. When calamitous events shake us to the core we turn inward in horror and spin-out in hopelessness. I can detach from the shooting pains emitting from the top of my foot and send waves of sympathy to the family and friends of the victims as well as those involved in the marathon from the folks encouraging runners from the sidelines to tv viewers, EMT’s who jumped into the mire and all of us who find out after the fact.

Spent the morning tearing out what is left of my head of hair while regenerating my tax returns. Incredulous that it could be so time consuming when I only worked at one part-time job, incurred no self-employment income and no second job last year. Taelor created her own tax returns and is no longer accountable for credit on my documentation. I have no assets to write-off, no stupendous medical expenses (ahem!) and no outlandish entrepreneurial lunch receipts or gas expenditures nor mileage reporting like other years.

What are computer illiterate tax payers doing? Although there are many agencies offering assistance it takes a tremendous amount of time, patience or Job and a dependable vehicle to get to most of the sites. Not to mention a telephone to schedule the appointment and all of the appropriate documentation in-hand.

Years ago I volunteered for AARP to help clients e-file tax returns and it was an incredible eye-opener. There were several cases of clients who carried-in boxes of receipts, others who brought their grandchildren in to interpret for them, still more who had multiple jobs and investment accounts that earned enough to report the income. Their stories of hardship and losses were moving and apparent. At the time, many lost much of their growing retirement funds and a few spoke of having to go back to work to pay for the basic electric and sustaining food bills. If I am in the position to be of assistance next year, I will volunteer once again. It is both humbling and puts my outlook on security into perspective. I thank the volunteers who were tolerant, unwavering, bleary-eyed, persistent and devoted to the clients. The long hours of training that began in January and finishes at the end of business day today are often thankless. I recall we even had to pay for our own lunches at the gratitude celebration..Hats off to you!  

And for those who are aware of the Marathon crisis…

She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts. - George Eliot

Blizzard conditions

April 14, 2013

Snow billowing sideways causing my fingertips to grasp the wheel in a death grip while covering ground ever-so-slowly down the bulging freeway behind the pack of cars speeding by to get to the next stop light a minute sooner than I. I have become the grannie driver, steady paced and turned-in shoulders to brace myself against the impact of my fear of careening off into the inviting ditch off to my right. Tyrus scoots the blanket out from under his overheated belly to drown the back seat in light fur dropping off his excess winter coat. 

Off to another locale, the week’s belongings awaiting the partially sorted closet space for another round of job seeking strategies. Challenging my staccato patience and chronic anxiety I create a plan of attack for the Monday through Friday business hours ahead of me. Research sites for companies within the Twin Cities call me to action. The Book of Lists encompasses the top ten corporations to work for, women-owned establishments, socially responsible companies and green philosophies that interest me most. State-wide job titles, areas of opportunity as well as salary ranges and ways of doing business that I can fiscally soar and effectively succeed with encircle my spirit and grow the excitement of job accountability for the future.

A thank you note, investigation of ideas and stratagem for my up-and-coming meeting with a potential employer, follow-up with insurance possibilities and organizing my travel plans are on my lengthy to do list.  I am looking forward to the prospect of discovering new territory for my inevitable future work.

Birthday party crasher

April 13, 2013

Friends gather round for a 50^th birthday celebration at our old stompin’ grounds. Without a set of crutches or a cane I can maneuver my way around the tables and chairs of folks without being the victim of an ankle injury gone awry. I drink Summit Pale Ale and munch on crackers and bite-sized cheese blocks, crunching chips and flavorful salsa, avoiding the soaked mini-wieners, greasy fried chicken wings, saturated Swedish meatballs and other Midwest party favorites.  Rainbow Happy Birthday banners outline the borders of the Sports Bar and poster boards of a collage of photos from kindergarden-to-high school graduation line the tables. We roar over the outdated attire and helmet hairdos. The Midwest twang reverberates throughout the vast space. Polar bear hugs and hog squeals emit from the mouths of old friends and family as familiar faces emerge out of chubby cheeks and widening waistbands.

Unearthed medical conditions instigate long involved conversations of tragic cancer treatments, painful carpel tunnel recovery, never-ending back surgery complications and nausea-inducing Chemo injections absorb into long-sleeves, wool blazers and elastic-waist jeans. We replace our sympathy and exchange it for laughter and hilarious parlor jokes. Seventies music plays in the background while introductions and stories of how we met one another come together in the new play of relationship and belonging.

Photos of wide smiles and arms wrapped around one another are displayed on the camera screen. We have a membership to the club of friendship and chapter in the story to regurgitate upon our future meeting.

Foot fetish

April 12, 2013

My foot is not healing properly. I have broken several of the screws embedded in the bone and others are working their way out of the plate. There is a gap where there should not be one so unexpected extensive surgery is in order. I need a CT and an operation that will put me in a boot and I will be unable to bear weight on my foot for six weeks time. Since the X-ray this morning, my foot has been throbbing more and I dart looks of disgust and fury at it. The Blame Game is my opponent as I drive from one side of the Cities to another, from the HealthPartners clinic to Panera for grilled cheese (I wouldn’t recommend it as a comfort food which I was shooting for!) heading to an informational interview that Wonder Woman aced, then back across town thru pre-rush hour traffic. I am dog-sitting Darling Dylan and may veg in front of the television tonight.

Even though I am fully committed to attending all four subsequent interviews required to secure a position with X company as a Relocation Specialist it sounds grueling and perilous to my well-being. There is one spot available and this corporation aligns their philosophy with the Gallop polls. I see the cheery faces as I launch through the sleek yet somehow homey lobby. The philanthropic owner published a book which I took the opportunity to flip through while another poorly qualified candidate (did I just write that?) spoke of her great accomplishments and job history.

On my way up to the 5^th floor, I stopped the elevator and meandered around the fourth floor just to check out the space and chat with passerby employees. Everyone seemed Stepford wife smiley and walked with springs in their steps. Seems like a nice enough place to hang my hat for awhile. If I do get the chance to move up the ladder to the next dog and Paula show I will take a bit more time in the building, playing the part as a janitor, copy repair person or candy vendor to find out more of the inside scoop about company X!

Hot seat

April 11, 2013

She turned down the quilt from her hot body, shedding the waves of searing energy from the sweaty skin of her stomach, upper thighs, chest and neck. The intensity of cold air whirling across the bare flesh felt so cool and welcoming. It was the churning cool dark of the night that forced her eyes open to gasp in wonder at the time. Hardly the hour to arise out of bed and dress for the day. The bleak line of light that crept in from beneath and around the window’s edge glared from the other side of the vast room. Another week has flown by, hiding from admittedly numerous insufficient attempts at gainful productivity and thwarted necessary income. A lurch in her gut made her consider the next few weeks of familiar hunger and the hardened companionship resembling disappointment.  

Where will this one more tiresome day if introspection take her? What can she shift and accept that was missed the first contrary time around? Who will swoop down and rescue her from her own poor decisions and disadvantaged choices? Where is the promise of turn of events that cantered with joy like the Groundhog that recognized his shadow on the unbearably long and endless white winter season? Relief and the initial excitement of personal assessment alludes her in the growing light of the day.

Receding darkness licked her daring thoughts of whizzing away from the city lights in her vehicle, the big lumbering and expectant dog in tow. The candor of attempted escape and unauthorized consent brought a cast-off smile across her fuzzy teeth. Her participation is a necessary step to being a responsible grown-up. Counting her blessings should make it all acceptable. If only she could wear that like the heat of her soft tissue in the wee hours of the morning, in this moment, forever.