"Out" boxed

May 7, 2013

Perfectly polite rejection letters fill my In Box. Instead of looking at it as though I have profoundly failed at landing a “real” job, it is with a sigh of acceptance that I was not awarded a position to match my vast abilities.  Counting on getting more clients and be in erratic self-employed mode again as the flexibility, greatly improved fiscal opportunities as well as the ability to work in my pajamas (now if only I could find them!) with rat’s nest hairdo sounds grand. No one will be aware as I spiral off in a proposed script that my leg is above my heart, ankle iced, a bowl spilling over with pretzels at my elbow and tall drink of water next to my laptop.

My dog will be lying at my good foot and new feline roaming around ready to pounce on unsuspecting Tyrus. Eventually I hope that tumultuous relationship mellows in time. Grill is a scruffy tom with one tip of his ear chewed off, scraped cheek, bulky tabby body and markedly cuddly personality. He has been around the block and back and well deserves to be indoors in the coldest, snowiest of winters. I look so forward to having a kitty of our own again. Not sure Tyrus agrees but he will cope.

Devouring books by night, jovial telephone and succinct internet marketing, physical therapy gymnastics by day, I am thrilled to be cataloguing my semi-retired lifestyle.

My favorite aspect of moving is setting up the space to make it my home. I am absolutely tickled Taelor will be with me for a time this summer and then I may look for a roommate if the possibility of relationship does not present itself first. Who wouldn’t want to hang out with a witty one-footed Brasilian wanna-be? At least I have my own bachelorette pad now!

In appropriately "poor Richard" font

May 6, 2013

I have always been the driver of my life though the vehicle has uncharitably veered off to the right or left, swung me in the ditch, turned me upside down or head-on into sideways and unexpected small-mindedness, spun me in circles and on occasion, inexplicably dampened my spirits. All of it was/is my fault as many are quick to point out. I agree. And I am forever using those out-of-control experiences to tell my story while working with others in their quest for a life of a crack of nirvana. Often times I must warn “Don’t try this at home” yet intermittently success stories are shared and revered as an auspicious example.

I feel empty today, of everything, save gratitude while realizing a few items are dramatically checked off my list and that I have the incredulous support of my friends and family. I could not take my vitamins today. In one more week, I will be undergoing surgery, be in the middle of a complex operation to remove pins and potentially a plate, scrape excess cartilage, trapeze-wire together my bones and hopefully not create a more hideous scar. Pain and suffering are still fresh from my initial surgery in Registro last October. Suppose I can compare it to the physical pain of childbirth that eventually dissipates into the heat of the day and as a result, have a mass of souvenir stretch marks to hide under a one piece suit. The strong smooth stomach is lost forever.

All of my belongings are lined-up like baby turtles waiting at the ocean’s edge for their first swim out. They are ready to embark on a new journey with experiences in the good or not-so-good category. At first light they slide into the frigid waters and head out into the wild waves with big fish, shore birds, sharks as well as the safety of coral reefs. Where these books, summer clothes and sandals, household goods and art that has been in boxes far too long will end up I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that I still have the courage and conviction I need to slither out, one solid foot on the ground and the other in turn-my-skin-blue water lapping at my ankle. Donning my tools of laughter and acceptance, like a snorkel and mask, I can maneuver and dodge, wander and experiment as I forge on the path ahead, to the side, up and down, seeking shelter or risk!

Cinco celebrations

Cinco de Mayo 2013

Not sure why we insist on numerous margaritas to celebrate the commemorations of a victory of the Mexican Militia over the French Army at The Battle Of Puebla in 1862 but I will go with it! Lots of fabulous start-my-hair-on-fire salsa, flavorful refried beans, mild Spanish rice, warmed choice of flour or corn tortillas, braised bell peppers and onions, a lot of lime squirted on each dish and in every drink. Yum! Dessert was angel food cake with fresh sweet strawberries or liquidy cherries with whipped cream.

Worms were slurped from the bottom of the bottle (someone beat me to it!) and a lot of fun with friends. Three legs longer than their torso girls, chatty and wondrous sportswomen teamed up to entertain the adults. Everyone pitched-in to shovel manure built up from far too many winter days-phew! It felt good to sweat in the sun and move around the large muscular animals that seem to be good for sucking up savings and creating more manual labor. Sorry equine fans, I have a difficult time imagining the work paying off since they cannot sit next to you on a Friday and substitute a date, share a massive bowl of buttery popcorn and not stare you down when you sob over a romantic film.

The tomboy gals were riveted by the horses, getting rides in the tick-filled woods on a sunny afternoon. A series of loud brays responding to two of the four horses having the freedom from the pen while they were left behind with hay piles for dinner. That was after we were tortured by the smelly piles of manure we had to shovel and rake to prepare the mound for the tractor to scoop in the round pen. Yuck! At least I was able to soak up the sun and take advantage of moving around on my still functional foot and spend time with friends.

Two of the girls performed for us while the old man played guitar in the kitchen under the tract lights. It was an entertaining show after the guitarist encouraged the two chickies with a patient and consoling voice to sing louder, louder, louder still. Deer, wood and dead ticks painstakingly yanked off dogs and people, horrified faces scrutinized the type, size and various stages of living before they were stuck on a piece of tape and disposed of. Time to get out the lemons and make a spray for Ty to ran for cover when he realized I was going to treat him. He runs like the dickens if I pull out a bottle or cotton swab, q-tips…anything that resembles medication or a bath. He is a horrific baby at 100 plus pounds. Silly Tyrus!  

Rescued from myself

May 4, 2013

Lost miserably at Rummikub and the good/bad thing is, I am getting used to it so the  frustration and upset level is decreased. I am no longer turning into a miserable drunk and acting disorderly when that happens! Not really. Perhaps just far too many bon bons and tea to drown my sorrows, a down-turned mouth and crappy attitude. Yes, I am very competitive! Now I just revel when I don’t loose by more than a few thousand points.

Tyrus seemed despondent and agitated when I left, relayed my caretaker friend. I know he is anxious since I am tweaking my life and the stakes are high to prepare for the long foot surgery recovery. He was fidgety and visibly distressed. I need him with me, to be my companion, confidant, share popcorn and movies on Friday date nights and sometimes get me out of bed in the early mornings.

Too many hours sorting out my limited options leads to restlessness and irritability. Discovered my sensation of loss and fear creeping in left me stunned and accepting the preference of isolation and entrapment. Although the perfectly quaint brownstone building on Powderhorn Park with a darling eclectic charming and furnished third floor sublet apartment provided a convenient and seemingly best solution I realized, while discussing the details with a great and patient friend, I would be sadly alone and accepting stuck. Struggling down several flights of stairs, perhaps even resorting to crawling or scooting backwards, it would be traumatic and desperate just to get to the wind in my face and sun at my back…or something like that.

So, I am back to the duplex I adore in West St Paul which has ample room for Taelor, Tyrus, a lovely back yard, open and friendly homes (hopefully the residents mimic the facades) and a nearby gigantic park to ramble around in. An immediate move is incredibly daunting yet that is exactly what I dreamed about, wished for, pined after. A scramble to get everything sorted and put together prior to next Monday’s surgery is insane.

The new and improved landlord is amenable to meeting me with cash in hand to sign the lease while the loaded running truck is waiting to be emptied. What a guy!

Vehicular assault

May 3, 2013

The big hairdo nurse pinched into stiff maroon scrubs was acting very motherly. The only thing missing was her waggling index finger warning to ground me! She made me promise to read the eight page instructions several times before I arrived for surgery on the 13^th, quizzed me about my operation and arrival times, pressed so firmly when jotting the note reminding me to “wear loose pants!!!,” the words nearly broke through the  paper. Her firm grim lips mimicked Kathy Bates as she whispered as if it were a secret that surgeries are dangerous business and things can go wrong. Really???

My surgeon was his usual efficient self, answering my bajillion questions with grace and compassion. He is boy-next-door youthful scrub-faced Opie-act-a-like and will be until the day he dies. Hard to tell his age with that baby face and slender frame.  Doc rewarded me with a handicap parking permit until November which was a complete surprise. I don’t wanna be the weak and vulnerable, I want to be like the Wild Woman from Borneo who strikes fear in the lives of bullies and bandits.

Pre-op is certainly a far cry from the preparations for surgery in Registro, Brasil! The thin, pretty primary care doc shot off questions like she was being timed and set me scurrying down to the lab for Hemoglobin tests, EKG (for a woman of “my age”) weighed-in twice, blood pressure taken two times as well, loads of repetitive forms and no one speaking Portuguese. Up the elevator, down to the lower level, back to the primary care physician who is insisting I get a colonoscopy and pap, mammogram, etc set up for the future. Thought by now they would have come up with a more flavorful easy to swallow without gagging fluid for the colonoscopy in the last few years but no such luck!

I should go into the returning potential renter call business. It is incredible the number of property management companies and individuals I phoned and never got a call back! They must need help and I need the work. Oh boy. The ones that did answer my distress signal ran through the benefits and features as though they were late for a hot lunch date. Most of what I am seeing out there and available now are for July! Geez, why do I always feel as though I missed the Express bus by two minutes and the next one isn’t coming until after the dinner hour?

Looking at a few pads tonight with the hopes of securing something solid. Found a great place yesterday in West St Paul. The area is extremely quaint and the house nearly perfect though a lot of TLC required in the kitchen and bathroom. Great back yard and quiet neighborhood (the three times I visited the duplex in various hours of the day.) Decided, in the end, it would be more time on the freeways than I care to spend day-to-day (when I am able to use the clutch foot!) It is discouraging yet I do not want the hassle of being stuck in traffic with my stomach rumbling from hunger and cranky drivers around me. May lead to uncontrollable vehicular assault.

One more overnight, taking advantage of my supportive friend who will go along to check out the properties with me tonight. Who doesn’t love to house shop if you are not the one having to move?

Housing expedition

May 2, 2013

Happy Birthday Nina!

He must have mentioned he lived with his girlfriend six times, just to let Taelor and I know he is taken. Now if he had been hot, like the cutie broad-shouldered pool guy I can’t mention, I would have been all over that, teasing him and winning him back to my side of the street. However, the lanky slouch we followed around the incredibly untidy tri-plex with wet towels draped over side chairs, shoes piled high, open boxes mounded with greased dishes and cutlery with his geeky charm made us nearly blurt out in raucous laughter. What Mr Taken referred to as the back yard was clearly a fenced section housing doggie poop piles and scratched dirt to hide the broken tiles and lack of grass.

Crossed that claustrophobic place off the list we plugged in the next address of seven houses, duplexes, apartments we had to tour this morning. A semi-remodeled trap was next, turn-around yard with drapes tightly seamed prevented me from being motivated to meet the owner. New construction with more than likely off-gassing materials followed. Shady neighborhoods and questionable crummy parking options materialized as we were careening around one corner after another to search for the perfect next home. Driving around prospective welcoming neighborhoods is not the best strategy for house-hunting since there are no FOR RENT plaques staked in the yards. Times have changed!

I peaked into one upper-lower duplex in West St Paul that looked wonderful. Phoned the owner and requested a showing ASAP. Hoping to meet up with him, bringing Ty along tonight to prove what a sweet and loveable dog he is. Dan sounded a little startled when I suggested I had already looked at the duplex. The elderly gentleman earlier in the day wanted me to check out his rental house before meeting him at the Salvation Army between 8:30 and 9:00am (closer to nine he admitted) on Friday or Tuesday to verify that we are compatible! I did humor myself by dropping by his property out of curiosity. I can see why he didn’t want to take up his time to meet me at the strange closed up house in a shady area, can you say “Waste of time old man?”

Tornado tester

May 1, 2013

A booming siren went off just as I dialed the number for my mock sales pitch to a man with a Phoenix number and impatient drawl. When he yowled about the noise I blurted out “it must be the police after me!” What an idiot I am! A hideous giggle spewed from me as I dodged around for further explanation. Who knew the test tornado alarm was to go off at this inopportune time? I managed to turn the conversation around to the script and set the appointment only to find out later in the day they want me to set up a “do over.” Oh well, at least I get another chance! This time I will keep the police out of the mix.

I feel like a firm pressed piece of tofu, relatively more relaxed and much less inflamed on my left side since my good friend Kaitlin did some cranio-sacral magic on my body. It appears to her that I have been holding the fear and trauma from my fall in the pit of my stomach. My gut churned out bubbles and chortled so loudly I could hear its rumble. The brunt of the tumbling impact settled in my left knee so that is where she focused her healing attention. My exaggerated limp from yesterday has, for the most part, disappeared.

Dodging the rain/snow/wet with a fake fur jacket strapped like a damp animal on my back as I scurry across the streets of South Minneapolis to have a conversation with the acupuncturist about marketing her services. I felt confident and brilliant while encouraging this pretty lady, loose-curled hair framing her face, bright inquisitive eyes, heartening and warm smile that expressed her full attention, to use my skills. I will put together a triumphant proposal by early next week. I count on this being one of a number of lucrative contracts with alternative healthcare providers. I am so looking forward to settling-in a place to call home with some concrete financial security.

Completed a “Drive By” at the first apartment complex, after my rambling ‘round a number of detours and following the trusty GPS woman. Just isn’t my cup of tea neighborhood so I pulled a “U” turn and headed down 94 to meet up with Jason who explained he and the other interested couple were outside since the bathroom contractor inadvertently took the house key home with him. Eventually he arrived with the key ring and I declared “You’re fired!” as he approached the house.

We entered the compact duplex as a clump with high expectations. I did not see much in terms of redeeming qualities yet the couple who arrived with me were thrilled. At least Jason didn’t waste his precious time, dressed up in his black pressed jeans with the belt a bit too tight and waste spilling out from the sides of his blue plaid shirt. He wears thick black glasses that make his dark brown eyes boggle like a frog. He was plenty friendly and chatty, even kind enough to inform me he and his partner have another rental coming up in July. I left, dispirited and with plenty on my mind as I waved goodbye pleased the young, tall, red-cheeked man and his bride were signing the paperwork of commitment.

Good on ‘em!