Monthly Archives: October 2011

Don’t Cry For Me Argentina…

 

Or New Jersey, or….

Well, actually, a few tears might be in order. I had planned to have my blog just be about me taking steps, moving up hills, and hurling obstacles out of my way. This was my chance to be Positive, Enthusiastic, Brave, even if only for the half-hour or so that I spend writing each post. I’m starting a new business – hooray!!! I’m branching out – yippee!!! Go me!

Folks, the party has been attacked by an uninvited guest. An interloper named Reality has crashed through the door and is raining on my beautiful, Pollyanna parade. Enemy, thy name is Money.

Work has been slow. As a freelancer, I should know by now that the ups and down aren’t just part of the job – they ARE the job. And just like a roller coaster, the ride up is usually slow and jerky, the top is fleeting, and the ride down is fast and furious. My can-do attitude was just no match for a slower than average pay period followed by a slower than slower-than-average one. I crumbled today, in a most uncreative and unflattering way.

I will remain forever grateful for my choice in friends – for the girls who are so dear to me and love me so much that I can call, through tears, vent every frustration, and have them not just sympathize but offer real knowledge and real suggestions to get me off the floor and thinking somewhat clearly again. A friend to assure me that I won’t be homeless tomorrow and that I am capable of making enough of the evil stuff to live. I will give myself credit for keeping my ears open as I climbed down off the panic pole and stepped back down onto solid ground.

I listened, I heard, and I believed.

I re-thought about all the stories I’ve told myself, about myself, over the years. About how I wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough, stable enough to have it all. And about how I shouldn’t be greedy, that some people just aren’t meant for a grand life. About how it can be smart to know your limitations so that you don’t get hurt. Take it slow, take it easy – don’t fall.

And then, my mind turned to this very blog, and my first post F&*k Fear – the thing that finally, finally got me started writing again. This notion that fear, was not, in fact, an unopposable foe against whom little ol’ me had no chance – that it was maybe no more than a bogeyman that I’d been allowing to make choices for me. What if by giving in to this new worry I was actually opening the fear door again, practically inviting it to stay? If I had to look in the mirror and face myself, knowing that I was the one who’d let it all back in, it would be like watching myself jump down a well, just to be sure I didn’t trip and fall in by accident.

That’s one plunge I’m not prepare to take. It’s a funny thing, this blog. I feel responsible to it, to the girl who started it. It seems like it’s up to me not to challenge her dreams and faith, but to nurture them, run along side them yelling words of encouragement. I can’t give up this easily. I can’t let the fear stop me like it has so many times before.

Not I can’t. I won’t. And I will do more than be grateful for my friends who support me. I will trust their judgment, and support me, too.

 

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Who is that Masked Girl?

IDENTITY ALERT!!

Someone has been parading around, pretending to be me. In the last week, not only did they cut their TV time watching by like 100 hours per week, they bought a rice cooker, and, get this – they started a freakin’ website for resumes and added a Facebook page to advertise the darned thing!

Yes, I’m having a bit of an out of body experience. I know that this is just a small start, but after a looong period of inactivity, it feels awfully strange to have moved the ball this far down the field. Actually, I’m probably just getting ON the field, but even that feels a little odd, to be honest. I’d become really comfortable as a spectator and fan. I am a super cheerleader (minus the great body and dexterity), so to be called into the game takes some getting used to.

And I’ll admit it, the Universe had to corral me and get my back up against the wall before I gave in and gave it a try. Diminishing revenue is felt pretty quickly when you’re a small-time revenue-maker, and so I faced the mirror again knowing that my choice was to make a move or get my own resume out there circulating. Which could still happen; after all, it’s not karma’s responsibility to respond to my new efforts, even if they are spectacular. I’m trying real hard not to feel too proud of myself – many people work hard and take risks as a matter of course. Humility is key, I think. Besides, my arm hurts when i try to pat myself on the back.

Creativity update – I recently had a totally wacky (and violent dream) that woke me up at 4:30 terrified to go back to sleep. It was really detailed, down to my admonishing the villain – a childhood friend turned anarchist – that if he didn’t tell me where my father was, I was going to grab hold of a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy, and pull it (them) up and out through his mouth. I know, a bit graphic – think how I felt to hear myself say it!

I relayed the dream to a friend who promptly said I should turn it into a screenplay. While I can’t promise to do that, I have started wondering if, having tried to reach me during normal business hours, the God of Ideas decided to do a nighttime delivery. I actually feel a little bit tied to the anarchist and his story now – though I am not pleased at all by what he did to my dad. At the very least, it’s a reminder that my mind has not become infertile after all, that there may yet be seeds that just need a bit of watering to push themselves up through the soil.

I do still have worries – my efforts are still in the infant stage. But while I know little about babies. I do know that most of them crawl before they walk. Many of you know that I have a niece, Olivia – born at 24 weeks and 1.5 lbs, she’s now a 6 year-old with a yellow belt in karate and a passion for horses, in addition to being a budding gymnast who can walk on the same hands that, not so long ago, didn’t even want to hold a ball of Play-doh. She loves me, and I feel an obligation to become an aunt and woman who she can look at with pride. Maybe, one day, once my super girl powers are solidified, the two of us can go soaring through the skies together.

Now THAT, I think, is a dream worth pursuing.


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