Okay, I've had a very weird 48 hours: a mini series of heighten emotions. On Thursday I found out that I had made it through the first round of cuts for the Page International Screenwriting Competition! Big Hurrah! Page had over 4,000 scripts entered and mine was part of the top 25% that advanced. I'll find out if I made it further next Wednesday.
On Friday morning I met with a very cool illustrator who is going to make ZOMBIE JESUS into a graphic novel. Perfect! I can totally picture that script in drawn panels!
Then, I got a call from my ex-boss to let me know that his bosses won't let him hire me. They like the idea of getting me back, but they have a hiring freeze in effect so "no" to the idea of slipping me in to fill a vacant place. Major disappointment!
I know I can get my unemployment extended, but this not being able to get a job is very weird! However, as I read back over this blog I know what I have to do: send out my scripts to more and more competitions! If the thing I'm getting the most positive feedback for is my writing, then I need to pursue that way more actively.
It has been a very big up and down few hours, but the best part to see is that people are responding to my writing. So, I start at square one for my "job", but I'm moving forward on what I really want as a profession: getting paid for writing!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I wish it would rain
We've had clouds for the past few days, not unusual for the Pacific Northwest, except that it hasn't rained. Everyday the clouds gather, some days hanging low and threatening, like today. The clouds are so close, deep gray and swollen, looking like they are going to burst. I'm rooting for a good rain, ground soaking, air cleaning rain. I need that kind of purification.
You see, I spoke to my ex-boss a week ago, and he mentioned that there might be a job opening. He said that he would know in the next couple of weeks, but things looked hopeful. Normal folks would take this to heart and feel cheered. I sit and brood on the information. I don't believe anything till its in writing. Hell, I don't believe I even have a job until I have been working at a place for at least a week. The end results is that I feel paralyzed. My husband sees the hope and says I should enjoy these last two weeks as a vacation. I am trying to do that, but for right now: I feel like the clouds outside.
And like the Wreckless Eric song; I wish it would rain.
You see, I spoke to my ex-boss a week ago, and he mentioned that there might be a job opening. He said that he would know in the next couple of weeks, but things looked hopeful. Normal folks would take this to heart and feel cheered. I sit and brood on the information. I don't believe anything till its in writing. Hell, I don't believe I even have a job until I have been working at a place for at least a week. The end results is that I feel paralyzed. My husband sees the hope and says I should enjoy these last two weeks as a vacation. I am trying to do that, but for right now: I feel like the clouds outside.
And like the Wreckless Eric song; I wish it would rain.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Beginning of a Great Adventure
My husband's brother Brian and his wife Maggie came to visit us in Portland. I love hanging out with these two. We made a day of it by going to a truly British Fish and Chip shop (my sister in law Maggie is Scottish and it got her seal of approval) and then watched Brian play rugby. It was a great day, and Maggie called me a week later to say how much fun she had. During our conversation she mentioned how much work she and Brian put in on Maggot Fest. Now, Maggot Fest if a huge semi-pro rugby gathering in Missoula, MT; sponsored by the Missoula's Semi-pro team named The Maggots. This is a big event that brings in teams from all over the US, Canada with The Maggots flying in a team from further away. I've have always wanted to go to this event. When Maggie mentioned how worried she was about this years event, I asked if she would like me to come and help. It just came out of my mouth.
Later that night, I talked to my husband about the possibility of going. We both decided that since I was unemployed, all I would need was gas money, and I had been trapped in the house since my surgery; it would be a good idea for a cheap vacation. I called Maggie and set it up. I was so happy! A change of scenery, a change of my mind set - which was getting pretty grim from searching for work - this was definitely a cure for my blues.
My husband Steve, mentioned to me that the first thing we had to do was update my IPod. Steve is the guy with 15,000 songs, we had to get a computer with a terabyte of memory just to deal with his music collection! So for him, updating an IPod is damn serious business, so I handed over mine.
Steve took it and disappeared into the office. For days. Meanwhile, I packed and got ready for my vacation. The night before I left Steve came out of the office with my IPod and informed me:
"I have made you some comps for your trip. You must listen to "The Road Flows Ahead" as you drive to Missoula. On your way home you must listen to "The Road Too" on your way home. "
Now, I was kind of looking forward to just listening to my little comp of my favorite dance tunes, but since Steve had worked so hard I decided to listen.
The morning of my trip, I stopped at my favorite bakery, got coffee and brioche. I got in the car, plugged in the IPod and started Steve's comp. The first song was by one of my favorite singer Lou Reed, the song was "Beginning of a Great Adventure" this was followed by another of my favorite jazz standards "Someone to Watch Over Me" and from there it kept getting better. It was like Steve had timed out my trip so the perfect music played at the perfect moment. Jazz came on through the most beautiful part of the Gorge. Hard rock while going through the boring vistas of The Dalles, beautiful esoteric music through the hills of Eastern Washington. Jazz, Metal, Classical, experimental all the music I loved filled my cars over the hours of my drive! It was the best soundtrack I could wish for.
Do you remember how you fell in love with John Cusack's character in High Fidelity? How romantic it was when he made comp. tapes; and that idea of a person taking the time to tell you how much they loved you through music. It was on this trip that I discovered that I was married to my own John Cusack. As the music played, I felt Steve's presence with me, felt his love for me in every song choice and I fell in love with my husband again.
Later that night, I talked to my husband about the possibility of going. We both decided that since I was unemployed, all I would need was gas money, and I had been trapped in the house since my surgery; it would be a good idea for a cheap vacation. I called Maggie and set it up. I was so happy! A change of scenery, a change of my mind set - which was getting pretty grim from searching for work - this was definitely a cure for my blues.
My husband Steve, mentioned to me that the first thing we had to do was update my IPod. Steve is the guy with 15,000 songs, we had to get a computer with a terabyte of memory just to deal with his music collection! So for him, updating an IPod is damn serious business, so I handed over mine.
Steve took it and disappeared into the office. For days. Meanwhile, I packed and got ready for my vacation. The night before I left Steve came out of the office with my IPod and informed me:
"I have made you some comps for your trip. You must listen to "The Road Flows Ahead" as you drive to Missoula. On your way home you must listen to "The Road Too" on your way home. "
Now, I was kind of looking forward to just listening to my little comp of my favorite dance tunes, but since Steve had worked so hard I decided to listen.
The morning of my trip, I stopped at my favorite bakery, got coffee and brioche. I got in the car, plugged in the IPod and started Steve's comp. The first song was by one of my favorite singer Lou Reed, the song was "Beginning of a Great Adventure" this was followed by another of my favorite jazz standards "Someone to Watch Over Me" and from there it kept getting better. It was like Steve had timed out my trip so the perfect music played at the perfect moment. Jazz came on through the most beautiful part of the Gorge. Hard rock while going through the boring vistas of The Dalles, beautiful esoteric music through the hills of Eastern Washington. Jazz, Metal, Classical, experimental all the music I loved filled my cars over the hours of my drive! It was the best soundtrack I could wish for.
Do you remember how you fell in love with John Cusack's character in High Fidelity? How romantic it was when he made comp. tapes; and that idea of a person taking the time to tell you how much they loved you through music. It was on this trip that I discovered that I was married to my own John Cusack. As the music played, I felt Steve's presence with me, felt his love for me in every song choice and I fell in love with my husband again.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
In The Shadow of Wallace Stegner
It has been over a month since my last blog and so much has happened. Which is why its been over a month since I've written. I went to Maggot Fest in Missoula, MT and walked away with a bunch of pictures of naked butts and an idea for a screenplay. I came home on Thursday May 7th at 1PM. I was in the hospital the next morning at 10:00AM with my poor husband. He was having the kidney stone attack from hell! One coming out of each kidney! The next two weeks saw him going through 2 surgeries (one a week), a couple of trips BACK to the emergency room due to pain, and many sleepless nights. Finally, the damn things passed!
In the meantime: I had brought back 8 tomatoe plants from eastern Washington that I kept alive in our office, till I could bust out some sod and create a garden space. I'll will tell more on these adventures later. Today is just a moment to get back into the habit of writing.
I just finished reading "All the Little Live Things" by Wallace Stegner. I love this writer. Sometimes his writing is so beautiful I feel I have to read it out of the corner of my eye. Like sneaking quietly up on his words so they don't bound away like deers into a thick wood. His writing inspires me. The shadows of his words are like sitting under a tree on a hot summer day; where the earth is cool and you are protected from the burning rays of the sun. So, I'm taking a moment on this fresh morning, after the first cup of coffee to write and be thankful that the past few weeks are done and to get back into the habit of writing.
In the meantime: I had brought back 8 tomatoe plants from eastern Washington that I kept alive in our office, till I could bust out some sod and create a garden space. I'll will tell more on these adventures later. Today is just a moment to get back into the habit of writing.
I just finished reading "All the Little Live Things" by Wallace Stegner. I love this writer. Sometimes his writing is so beautiful I feel I have to read it out of the corner of my eye. Like sneaking quietly up on his words so they don't bound away like deers into a thick wood. His writing inspires me. The shadows of his words are like sitting under a tree on a hot summer day; where the earth is cool and you are protected from the burning rays of the sun. So, I'm taking a moment on this fresh morning, after the first cup of coffee to write and be thankful that the past few weeks are done and to get back into the habit of writing.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
And the search continues...
I am now in my third month of looking for a job. I think that sentence alone should convey to almost anyone who has job searched: despair, horror, shock and a huge crushing blow to the ego. I'm hoping I can use all this in my script writing, but then again, how many depressing scripts can one girl write? As it is right now, I'm just trying to wrap my mind around what my next move is going to be!
On the happy side, and thank God there is one of those, I'm getting more writing done. I think this breaking down of my ego has allowed me to write more from my heart. What that actually means: the more I suffer, the worse it is for ALL the characters in my script. When I first started writing scripts, I treated my characters a little too gently. Poor things, it isn't their fault that they are part of my imagination! Do they really have to have that many problems? Now, to hell with them! If I'm going to suffer, they are coming with me! In fact, I'm going to push those little bastards out in front of me so they take the first bullets!
Another bright spot on my horizon, I'm going to Maggot Fest! A festival that my brother and sister in laws help organize. It is a gathering of semi-pro rugby players from around the US, Canada and usually one international team. I love rugby, and right now, watching grown men beat the bejeebus out of each other, sounds like a perfect way to pass time.
On the happy side, and thank God there is one of those, I'm getting more writing done. I think this breaking down of my ego has allowed me to write more from my heart. What that actually means: the more I suffer, the worse it is for ALL the characters in my script. When I first started writing scripts, I treated my characters a little too gently. Poor things, it isn't their fault that they are part of my imagination! Do they really have to have that many problems? Now, to hell with them! If I'm going to suffer, they are coming with me! In fact, I'm going to push those little bastards out in front of me so they take the first bullets!
Another bright spot on my horizon, I'm going to Maggot Fest! A festival that my brother and sister in laws help organize. It is a gathering of semi-pro rugby players from around the US, Canada and usually one international team. I love rugby, and right now, watching grown men beat the bejeebus out of each other, sounds like a perfect way to pass time.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Imaginary Friend
In the past year I have had the great fortune to make a new friend, her name is Aimee. There are so many amazing things about Aimee: she is a screenwriter, she loves good food, she has a family but makes time for herself and she and I have similar taste in many things. During my hospital stay, Aimee called to check on me daily, visited the hospital bringing books and DVDs and was just an all around great friend. I've met her husband Lee and her adorable high spirited daughter Ella, and Aimee has been to my house. Now the funny part of this, during all this time my husband has never met Aimee. Just one of those never crossed paths moment, I'm not hiding Aimee, they just haven't met. So, Steve has decided that Aimee is my "imaginary friend."
His reasoning: Debz know a "person", who likes exactly what she like, writes screenplays and has even entered and become a finalist in a screenplay competition and that he has never seen. This equals "imaginary friend." When I tell Steve about interesting things that Aimee and I talk about, or her writing Steve's answer is "You know, this imaginary friend of yours is very cool. Not creepy like the imaginary friends in the movies."
When I told Aimee about Steve's theory she said "Well, its better than him thinking you're having an affair."
On Saturdays after writing group, Aimee and I usually have lunch. This past Saturday we were laughing about imaginary friends, and setting up a time for Steve to meet Aimee when I suddenly had a Twilight Zone moment.
What if Aimee is imaginary? Meeting someone who feels like a kindred soul is a great and often rare experience. What if during my time in screenwriting, job change and life changing health problems I simply phased out from reality and created this friend? As I sat across the table, I glanced around the cafe to see if anyone was staring at our table. I figured that if I was sitting alone, talking and laughing to myself someone would be staring. No one was looking. This feeling lasted only a moment, but it was a strange feeling. It made me appreciate friendship and realize just how important friends are. It also made me realize how lucky we all are that we get to add to our group of friends! It also made me realize...I really got to set up a time for Steve to meet Aimee!
His reasoning: Debz know a "person", who likes exactly what she like, writes screenplays and has even entered and become a finalist in a screenplay competition and that he has never seen. This equals "imaginary friend." When I tell Steve about interesting things that Aimee and I talk about, or her writing Steve's answer is "You know, this imaginary friend of yours is very cool. Not creepy like the imaginary friends in the movies."
When I told Aimee about Steve's theory she said "Well, its better than him thinking you're having an affair."
On Saturdays after writing group, Aimee and I usually have lunch. This past Saturday we were laughing about imaginary friends, and setting up a time for Steve to meet Aimee when I suddenly had a Twilight Zone moment.
What if Aimee is imaginary? Meeting someone who feels like a kindred soul is a great and often rare experience. What if during my time in screenwriting, job change and life changing health problems I simply phased out from reality and created this friend? As I sat across the table, I glanced around the cafe to see if anyone was staring at our table. I figured that if I was sitting alone, talking and laughing to myself someone would be staring. No one was looking. This feeling lasted only a moment, but it was a strange feeling. It made me appreciate friendship and realize just how important friends are. It also made me realize how lucky we all are that we get to add to our group of friends! It also made me realize...I really got to set up a time for Steve to meet Aimee!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Zombie Jesus
Well, I'm taking my final draft of Zombie Jesus to my writing group this weekend. Many friends have told me that I should use a pen name on this script. Something to do with offending folks, but in all fairness to me, I get everyone in here, from ancient followers of Jesus, to "Der Pope", and a few others. I'm about to start sending out my scripts to various competitions, wouldn't it just be a dream if I ended up making a living off my writing? Okay, I'm not thinking that Zombie Jesus is going to be the next big Hollywood picture, though that would be to awesome for words. This script started because of my husband, he was the one who thought it would be cool to make a bumpersticker that said: "Jesus, the original Zombie".
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Jon Stewart will see me through
Well it has been over a month since I last wrote. During this time the successful things I have been doing is finishing my full length screenplay and working on a short screenplay. I have also been sending out resumes and becoming a Jobdango addict. I have yet to get an interview. Combine that with a nasty cold that I've had for the past couple of weeks and I got: Depressed! That's right, I sit in front of my computer looking over my resume again and again thinking "What's wrong with me? Why can't I get an interview."
My wise friends point out that it will take time. Then some of them go on about how terrifying it is out there, how THOUSANDS of people all go for the same job, how horrible the economy is, etc. The one thing these wise people all have in common: they are employed. I don't know if they realize this, but telling me, a person laid off because of this economy, about how bad things are is not just preaching to the choir, it's beating me over the head with the damn hymnal!
Which brings me to the other thing I have been doing with my time. I watch The Daily Show on my computer. Somehow, Jon Stewart can tell me how bad things are, but makes me laugh about it! He doesn't point out that I'm lucky because my husband works, he just simply points out how outrageous it is that we got here. So now, when things get crazy grim, I turn to Jon Stewart. If anything is going to keep me sane its humor!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Forensic Scientist
I don't know how they found out, but ever since I became unemployed I've been stalked by Forensic Scientists. They lurk in my Spam. Sometimes as many as five await there, like they know "Hey, she's unemployed and desperate she's going to check her spam to see if there is an answer to all her online resumes." They are correct. Daily I check the spam area of my e-mail, hoping that something was sent there accidentally. The minute I open it, there they are "Forensic Scientist wanted!" Sometimes as many as five e-mails. Who knew there was such a shortage of Forensic Scientists? Are bodies just piling up in morgues? Morticians standing there helpless, because the bodies have not been examined by their local Forensic Scientists. Turning to bereaved families and saying "I'm sorry, you'll have to postpone the burial. The Forensic Scientist hasn't arrived and for all we know you murdered your dearly departed."
In moments of unemployed panic I find myself eyeing those e-mails. I see myself in a white lab coat, with a deerstalker cap looking down at the body as a breathless assistant watches my superior deductive skills.
"Why its quite obvious! See the dent on his right middle finger? Obviously he was old school and used a number 2 pencil to work. Showing a mathematician of some renown, due to his expensive haircut. No, I'm quite sure this is not a case of brain fever, but of murder most foul!"
Then, I see myself: a large woman dressed in white, something I didn't even wear at my wedding. Standing before a cadaver with the unpleasant knowledge that I am to cut the poor person open. Quickly I hit the delete to send the Forensic Scientists into cyber space. I also note that I'm reading just a tad to much Sherlock Holmes.
In moments of unemployed panic I find myself eyeing those e-mails. I see myself in a white lab coat, with a deerstalker cap looking down at the body as a breathless assistant watches my superior deductive skills.
"Why its quite obvious! See the dent on his right middle finger? Obviously he was old school and used a number 2 pencil to work. Showing a mathematician of some renown, due to his expensive haircut. No, I'm quite sure this is not a case of brain fever, but of murder most foul!"
Then, I see myself: a large woman dressed in white, something I didn't even wear at my wedding. Standing before a cadaver with the unpleasant knowledge that I am to cut the poor person open. Quickly I hit the delete to send the Forensic Scientists into cyber space. I also note that I'm reading just a tad to much Sherlock Holmes.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
When no one is awake
I got up with my husband at 4:30AM this morning. This is not unusual, I usually wake up with him, have breakfast, pack his lunch and hang out till he leaves. I love best when he works his early shift, because it gives me a reason to be up at this time. I have always had jobs that start early in the morning. Even in college where I worked at a coffee shop, I was the opening person. I love early morning hours, times when no one else is around. I like the silence, the thoughtfulness of the dawn. I like the feeling that I am up and about, doing something useful, while others sleep. It's the ultimate private time. Before the weight of a day of words gets to me. I guess it is a time of weightlessness, a time where there is no pressing needs. I looked up on the computer thesaurus's to find another word for early: it came up with "youthful, first and before time". I think these all describe how I feel in the dark of a winter's morning.
At this hour, I give myself the peace to just move around in a sleepy body. A body so grateful for that first cup of coffee that the smell and taste is almost better than any meal I could eat. The first moment when I put my dog outside, standing in the door, inhaling the air made alive by its coolness. Feeling a Christmas thrill when I'm greeted with fog. I love the way clouds wrap the world. The warmth of house lights as they diffuse across the mist, and I love the feeling of the moisture as the mist settles on my skin feeling like the soft breath of the planet. A lot of my friends and my husband think I'm crazy for getting up early. That's okay, because right now, in this dark time, I'm alone, drinking coffee and totally myself.
At this hour, I give myself the peace to just move around in a sleepy body. A body so grateful for that first cup of coffee that the smell and taste is almost better than any meal I could eat. The first moment when I put my dog outside, standing in the door, inhaling the air made alive by its coolness. Feeling a Christmas thrill when I'm greeted with fog. I love the way clouds wrap the world. The warmth of house lights as they diffuse across the mist, and I love the feeling of the moisture as the mist settles on my skin feeling like the soft breath of the planet. A lot of my friends and my husband think I'm crazy for getting up early. That's okay, because right now, in this dark time, I'm alone, drinking coffee and totally myself.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Job Search
Job Search: two words that separately mean work and looking, but together mean joy and despair. When I finally find that dream looking job that matches my credentials I feel so much joy. I'm thinking 'Hey, look at this! I would be perfect for this job!' I send out the resume and cover letter thinking 'I'll hear from this place.' Then, despair, I don't hear from the place and then I get to go through all the phases of death: anger 'they don't know what they are missing', denial 'their process might just take longer, maybe I'm still in the running' and finally acceptance 'okay, let's see what's on jobdango today!'
In my head I understand that with a 10% unemployment rate, my job search is going to take a while. In my heart, I'm still frightened and feeling profoundly unemployed. I wonder if my dog can sense this? At moments when I stare blankly at the computer, feeling slightly depressed, Giger shows up and starts pawing at me. Her eyes seem to say "hey, stop staring at the bright shiny box, let's go for a walk!" Dog's are brilliant that way, they understand the power of the walk. So, on goes the leash and off we go, Giger to sniff and me to clear my mind, work out my screenplays, and of course, the occasional win the lotto fantasy.
In my head I understand that with a 10% unemployment rate, my job search is going to take a while. In my heart, I'm still frightened and feeling profoundly unemployed. I wonder if my dog can sense this? At moments when I stare blankly at the computer, feeling slightly depressed, Giger shows up and starts pawing at me. Her eyes seem to say "hey, stop staring at the bright shiny box, let's go for a walk!" Dog's are brilliant that way, they understand the power of the walk. So, on goes the leash and off we go, Giger to sniff and me to clear my mind, work out my screenplays, and of course, the occasional win the lotto fantasy.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I have turned into veal.
Last August my doctor told me to stop exercising, something you don't hear out of doctors mouths. In this case, any exercise brought on a period or made the existing one worse. By the end, I could only take my dog for a short walk. Then came surgery, and I was pretty much stationary from December 2nd until January 8th. The first exercise I did was to make our bed, this made me so tired I laid right down for a nap. Seriously, major surgery takes the energy right out of a person!
After I was laid off, I knew it was time to start building myself back up. Now, I've never been thin, or slender, or anything approaching those words. I have considered myself fit and fat. Now I lost the fit! I decided that with all the time I had I needed to organize my days. I began to take my dog out for daily walks. Walks are perfect if you are a writer, the fresh air really helps get the cobwebs out. Plus I can think as I stroll around the park, and my dog loves me. Talk about win/win. Then came phase II; if I was ever going to build back up, I needed to get in and work my muscles.
Joy from Prananda yoga studio got me one of her "hip opening" DVD's. Which is perfect, because after you let someone take a knife and a staple gun to your abdomen; you have to regain the trust of your muscles. My muscles were all locked up in fight or flight mode.
The first time I used the DVD I loved it. The woman who demonstrated the modified poses really looks like she needs all the props. So often with a yoga DVD, the people who do the modified poses are in perfect shape, and you can see them "pretending" to need the bricks, or straps, or blankets. On Joy's tape the woman is older, and you can practically see her thinking "where the hell is my strap".
I, of course, need straps, blocks, blankets and pillows to hit most of the poses. Basically, I look like I'm gift wrapping myself; but after the DVD, I feet better. I'm realizing that to get through this bout of unemployment I've got to have some areas of my life under control; even if I have to lasso myself with a yoga strap to do it!
*I recommend the hip opening DVD and Prananda yoga studio to anyone; especially folks who are a little shy about starting. The classes are small and there is a gentle stretching class on Saturday mornings that is amazing. I've put Prananda yoga studio link on this site. Check them out!
After I was laid off, I knew it was time to start building myself back up. Now, I've never been thin, or slender, or anything approaching those words. I have considered myself fit and fat. Now I lost the fit! I decided that with all the time I had I needed to organize my days. I began to take my dog out for daily walks. Walks are perfect if you are a writer, the fresh air really helps get the cobwebs out. Plus I can think as I stroll around the park, and my dog loves me. Talk about win/win. Then came phase II; if I was ever going to build back up, I needed to get in and work my muscles.
Joy from Prananda yoga studio got me one of her "hip opening" DVD's. Which is perfect, because after you let someone take a knife and a staple gun to your abdomen; you have to regain the trust of your muscles. My muscles were all locked up in fight or flight mode.
The first time I used the DVD I loved it. The woman who demonstrated the modified poses really looks like she needs all the props. So often with a yoga DVD, the people who do the modified poses are in perfect shape, and you can see them "pretending" to need the bricks, or straps, or blankets. On Joy's tape the woman is older, and you can practically see her thinking "where the hell is my strap".
I, of course, need straps, blocks, blankets and pillows to hit most of the poses. Basically, I look like I'm gift wrapping myself; but after the DVD, I feet better. I'm realizing that to get through this bout of unemployment I've got to have some areas of my life under control; even if I have to lasso myself with a yoga strap to do it!
*I recommend the hip opening DVD and Prananda yoga studio to anyone; especially folks who are a little shy about starting. The classes are small and there is a gentle stretching class on Saturday mornings that is amazing. I've put Prananda yoga studio link on this site. Check them out!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
What to do first?
The first day of my not having a job was very strange. I got up with my husband, had breakfast, kissed him goodbye and then...there I was...at home. I went to work on the computer and within a hour I had: signed up for unemployment, updated my resume and sent a copy off to the recruiter. I got an e-mail back from my recruiter, thanking me for my pro-active nature and warning me that things are rough in Oregon, and I was probably in for a long job search. I decided to go out grocery shopping after that jolly note.
Over the past month, as I healed from surgery, I went out grocery shopping a proud woman. I had a job, I was on disability and I was healing. The first day shopping unemployed, completely different experience. I found myself looking at other shoppers, wondering why they were here during the day? Did they work weird shifts? Or were they like me?
I watched a group of four old women, I'm guessing the youngest was in her early 70's and I found myself loving them. Here were women who had seen so many changes in their lifetime, raised families, maybe worked outside the home on top of that, and they had survived. I overheard them trying to find "Whip cream" in the freezer aisle, I guessed they meant Cool Whip and told them where it was located. They thanked me and moved away, each with a hand on the one shopping cart they shared; an old women parade with the cart as a float. I figured if they could make it, I could make it. I also decided I was thinking to much and needed to get home and work on my script.
The following Tuesday, myself and my friend Joy went to a coffee shop to watch the inauguration of Barack Obama. It was so amazing to be surrounded by folks from every age group, clustered around a TV with a slightly blurry picture. We had to adjust the rabbit ears every once and awhile, but it felt great to be a part of a group. All together, all watching this historic moment. I cried, like everyone else and felt proud. I also had a moment where the most frightened part of me looked at the new president and thought "Help me. Please, help me." I wonder if he felt all the folks looking to him for change, hoping he could make it better, and I wonder if he had a moment and thought "I don't know if I can do this."
Over the past month, as I healed from surgery, I went out grocery shopping a proud woman. I had a job, I was on disability and I was healing. The first day shopping unemployed, completely different experience. I found myself looking at other shoppers, wondering why they were here during the day? Did they work weird shifts? Or were they like me?
I watched a group of four old women, I'm guessing the youngest was in her early 70's and I found myself loving them. Here were women who had seen so many changes in their lifetime, raised families, maybe worked outside the home on top of that, and they had survived. I overheard them trying to find "Whip cream" in the freezer aisle, I guessed they meant Cool Whip and told them where it was located. They thanked me and moved away, each with a hand on the one shopping cart they shared; an old women parade with the cart as a float. I figured if they could make it, I could make it. I also decided I was thinking to much and needed to get home and work on my script.
The following Tuesday, myself and my friend Joy went to a coffee shop to watch the inauguration of Barack Obama. It was so amazing to be surrounded by folks from every age group, clustered around a TV with a slightly blurry picture. We had to adjust the rabbit ears every once and awhile, but it felt great to be a part of a group. All together, all watching this historic moment. I cried, like everyone else and felt proud. I also had a moment where the most frightened part of me looked at the new president and thought "Help me. Please, help me." I wonder if he felt all the folks looking to him for change, hoping he could make it better, and I wonder if he had a moment and thought "I don't know if I can do this."
Monday, February 9, 2009
We cleaned out our desks and hit the bar!
I had never been laid off from a job before. I remember sitting in our office and looking at my co-workers and saying "I don't know what to do!". Arthur, who had been laid off before simply said "It's easy, we are going to clean out our desks and go to a bar." It was only at the bar that we got to look at our packets that our company had given us. First, we were given all our vacation pay, and they also gave each of us a severance based on years worked. My boss had been incredibly kind and just said "This has nothing to do with any of your work, this is just because the economy has crashed." The worse part, is I completely understood.
Our department, though we did generate orders, did not actually price orders. In a bad economic time this would be the logical first place to cut expenses. I understood, but I was still miserable, I loved this job. My boss came over to give me a hug while I was trying to hold it together which of course meant I broke down. His son who runs the warehouse came in and gave me this huge hug and said that he would "pray for me". I knew he meant that from his heart, which of course made me break down, again. One of the inside sales guys let me know that he was sure if times got better that my company would come back to me with a job offer. The only reason 4 of us lost jobs that day was because of the awful economic times. All I knew is that for the first time in my life I was about to be on unemployment!
After a couple of beers I left to go home, when I got into my car Talk of the Nation was on and the announcer said "We want to hear from you about how this down turn in our economy is effecting your life." I swore at the radio as I snapped it off. I got home and called my support system: my sisters, my friends and waited for my husband to come home. When Steve walked in, completely worried because I had beat him home I told him the news. He responded in his usual great way, he said; "you're not completely healed from your hysterectomy and you want time to work on your screenplays. Now you can do both, and you'll get unemployment. I have the feeling that this is all going to turn out for the best." And that ladies and gentlemen is why I married Steve.
Our department, though we did generate orders, did not actually price orders. In a bad economic time this would be the logical first place to cut expenses. I understood, but I was still miserable, I loved this job. My boss came over to give me a hug while I was trying to hold it together which of course meant I broke down. His son who runs the warehouse came in and gave me this huge hug and said that he would "pray for me". I knew he meant that from his heart, which of course made me break down, again. One of the inside sales guys let me know that he was sure if times got better that my company would come back to me with a job offer. The only reason 4 of us lost jobs that day was because of the awful economic times. All I knew is that for the first time in my life I was about to be on unemployment!
After a couple of beers I left to go home, when I got into my car Talk of the Nation was on and the announcer said "We want to hear from you about how this down turn in our economy is effecting your life." I swore at the radio as I snapped it off. I got home and called my support system: my sisters, my friends and waited for my husband to come home. When Steve walked in, completely worried because I had beat him home I told him the news. He responded in his usual great way, he said; "you're not completely healed from your hysterectomy and you want time to work on your screenplays. Now you can do both, and you'll get unemployment. I have the feeling that this is all going to turn out for the best." And that ladies and gentlemen is why I married Steve.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
And the New Year begins
December went by in a drug induced flash...if you can have anything as quick as a flash happen while on drugs. I stayed four days in the hospital, I was located in one of those sweet birthing rooms complete with flat screen TV. According to my doctor "As far as I'm concerned you had a cesarean and gave birth to tumors so you get to stay here." My family and friends came to visit, my boss stopped by with flowers and the nurses gave me a running tally on how many babies were born each day.
My doctor had warned that due to my long surgery I was going to feel like "two buses had hit me". She was right. On the second day I was determined to get up and walk. The nurses held out the carrot "if you walk to the bathroom we'll take out the catheter". I stood and for one moment, I honestly thought 'I can't do this', but then I felt the catheter and I slowly started moving toward the bathroom. Another nurse said, "if you can eat something we can take out the IV's, do you want to try some toast now...do you want to wait?" All I could see was the door to the bathroom so I responded with, "Bring the toast, I want to balls it out!" The nurses both cracked up and mentioned that the phrase "balls it out" had never been used in a birthing room before.
The rest of December was a blur of painkillers and trying to move around my house enough to begin to build up my strength. Oregon had the worst snow storm in several years an the snow stuck around for two weeks, including a white Christmas. I kept thinking, 'what great timing! I hate driving in the snow and here I am stuck at home!' I couldn't write, my mind was too muddled, but slowly I was feeling better.
I returned to work on Thursday, January 8th. I was greeted with choruses of "welcome home", it was great to be back. I saw this new year rolling out before me: here is a job I love with people I really liked, there would be no more pain or periods and I would never have to worry about pregnancy again! It was like my own little version of the sixties, without the fear of STD's. My husband and I got a life of consequence free sex! If that wasn't enough, Barack Obama was elected! I set up writing goals for myself and got ready to start a great year.
The following Monday, January 12th my whole department was laid off.
My doctor had warned that due to my long surgery I was going to feel like "two buses had hit me". She was right. On the second day I was determined to get up and walk. The nurses held out the carrot "if you walk to the bathroom we'll take out the catheter". I stood and for one moment, I honestly thought 'I can't do this', but then I felt the catheter and I slowly started moving toward the bathroom. Another nurse said, "if you can eat something we can take out the IV's, do you want to try some toast now...do you want to wait?" All I could see was the door to the bathroom so I responded with, "Bring the toast, I want to balls it out!" The nurses both cracked up and mentioned that the phrase "balls it out" had never been used in a birthing room before.
The rest of December was a blur of painkillers and trying to move around my house enough to begin to build up my strength. Oregon had the worst snow storm in several years an the snow stuck around for two weeks, including a white Christmas. I kept thinking, 'what great timing! I hate driving in the snow and here I am stuck at home!' I couldn't write, my mind was too muddled, but slowly I was feeling better.
I returned to work on Thursday, January 8th. I was greeted with choruses of "welcome home", it was great to be back. I saw this new year rolling out before me: here is a job I love with people I really liked, there would be no more pain or periods and I would never have to worry about pregnancy again! It was like my own little version of the sixties, without the fear of STD's. My husband and I got a life of consequence free sex! If that wasn't enough, Barack Obama was elected! I set up writing goals for myself and got ready to start a great year.
The following Monday, January 12th my whole department was laid off.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
What I wrote two weeks before surgery
My uterus is being removed in less than two weeks. I’ve decided to try a “visualization” about its removal and what that means. I’ve never had a planned surgery, when my ankle broke there was nothing to decide. You lay there with a bone out of your body and it’s pretty much a done deal, you are going under the knife. This hysterectomy is different.
For the past 9 months a fibrous tumor has been changing the way my uterus behaved. All these years I’ve had regular periods, though never that pleasant, I’ve rather enjoyed having my periods. It was time when I could hold my head up and eat chocolate, a time when I knew that a month truly was complete, and my own personal “bitch” time with no apologies. Stay out of my way, I’ve got the curse, I’m on the rag, I’m fertile God damn it.
This year, my periods became increasingly painful, my husband would stand over the bed while I curled into the fetal position and chant “you’ve got to go to the doctor, make an appointment tomorrow”. The fact that I couldn’t uncurl to throw something at him finally made me call my gynecologist.
As I described the symptoms, bleeding for more than a week, increase pain my doctor nodded and said: “I’m sure you have a fibrous tumor”. She scheduled and ultrasound for the next morning. That night the pain was so bad I had began to vomit. Thank God, I’ve known this doctor for over 10 years, the minute I called she told me to “get to the hospital”, my husband was already dressed with car keys in hand as I awaited permission from my doctor to admit to the pain. In my family pain was a natural side effect of childhood. If I let my father see me cry I felt he had won. This has carried over to the point that if I think I might need to go to a doctor, I’m probably into pneumonia or I have a bone hanging out of me. People who love me watch me for these symptoms.
Now I sit here, a week out from my surgery, wanting to get it over with, and a little afraid. So, I’ve decided to do this visualization: I am picturing that tumor as a dumpster. You know the big dumpster that appears on your block when a neighbor is having their house re-roofed. You notice that the house is empty; they probably went to the beach while the roof is being worked on, and it’s the weekend and no workers are around. You’ve got a couple “big things” lying around the house, not enough to make up a load to take to the dump, but too big to put in your own garbage can. So, you look at the dumpster, and you realize “Damn, they didn’t lock it”.
I’m loading that dumpster tumor up with the pain from my childhood, I’m tossing in the broken ego that keeps tangling around my new and fragile one I’ve created over my grown life. I’m tossing in the nightmares that still lurk and occasionally attack my sleep, leaving me sweating and gasping for my waking life. I’m throwing in my inner critic who has pointed out that she doesn’t like this analogy. Finally, I’m tossing in the part of me that gives up on myself, the part of me that whispers “why bother” the side of me that wants to sit quietly so no one will notice who I really am. I do not need to protect myself that way anymore. I stand back, slightly hot and sweating from carrying these loads and sneaking them into this dumpster.
Then I run back to my house, keep the lights out and giggle at my renegade dumping ways. I’ll watch when they take that dumpster away, and I will breathe a sigh of relief, to have gotten rid of all that shit, and for once not had to pay a dime. I look around and breathe in the new clean space, and I will fill it with things of beauty.
I know there will be pain after the surgery. I know that my life will be profoundly different, but I feel that this will be in a good way. So, I will sit on my couch, take my pain killer, watch all the Jane Austin movie adaptations I just bought from Amazon, and giggle about that overloaded dumpster that got removed from my neighborhood. Good bye
For the past 9 months a fibrous tumor has been changing the way my uterus behaved. All these years I’ve had regular periods, though never that pleasant, I’ve rather enjoyed having my periods. It was time when I could hold my head up and eat chocolate, a time when I knew that a month truly was complete, and my own personal “bitch” time with no apologies. Stay out of my way, I’ve got the curse, I’m on the rag, I’m fertile God damn it.
This year, my periods became increasingly painful, my husband would stand over the bed while I curled into the fetal position and chant “you’ve got to go to the doctor, make an appointment tomorrow”. The fact that I couldn’t uncurl to throw something at him finally made me call my gynecologist.
As I described the symptoms, bleeding for more than a week, increase pain my doctor nodded and said: “I’m sure you have a fibrous tumor”. She scheduled and ultrasound for the next morning. That night the pain was so bad I had began to vomit. Thank God, I’ve known this doctor for over 10 years, the minute I called she told me to “get to the hospital”, my husband was already dressed with car keys in hand as I awaited permission from my doctor to admit to the pain. In my family pain was a natural side effect of childhood. If I let my father see me cry I felt he had won. This has carried over to the point that if I think I might need to go to a doctor, I’m probably into pneumonia or I have a bone hanging out of me. People who love me watch me for these symptoms.
Now I sit here, a week out from my surgery, wanting to get it over with, and a little afraid. So, I’ve decided to do this visualization: I am picturing that tumor as a dumpster. You know the big dumpster that appears on your block when a neighbor is having their house re-roofed. You notice that the house is empty; they probably went to the beach while the roof is being worked on, and it’s the weekend and no workers are around. You’ve got a couple “big things” lying around the house, not enough to make up a load to take to the dump, but too big to put in your own garbage can. So, you look at the dumpster, and you realize “Damn, they didn’t lock it”.
I’m loading that dumpster tumor up with the pain from my childhood, I’m tossing in the broken ego that keeps tangling around my new and fragile one I’ve created over my grown life. I’m tossing in the nightmares that still lurk and occasionally attack my sleep, leaving me sweating and gasping for my waking life. I’m throwing in my inner critic who has pointed out that she doesn’t like this analogy. Finally, I’m tossing in the part of me that gives up on myself, the part of me that whispers “why bother” the side of me that wants to sit quietly so no one will notice who I really am. I do not need to protect myself that way anymore. I stand back, slightly hot and sweating from carrying these loads and sneaking them into this dumpster.
Then I run back to my house, keep the lights out and giggle at my renegade dumping ways. I’ll watch when they take that dumpster away, and I will breathe a sigh of relief, to have gotten rid of all that shit, and for once not had to pay a dime. I look around and breathe in the new clean space, and I will fill it with things of beauty.
I know there will be pain after the surgery. I know that my life will be profoundly different, but I feel that this will be in a good way. So, I will sit on my couch, take my pain killer, watch all the Jane Austin movie adaptations I just bought from Amazon, and giggle about that overloaded dumpster that got removed from my neighborhood. Good bye
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Background
By September of last year I was still having a period that began in July. I had also nicknamed the tumor Hector aka Rosemary's Baby. My doctor tried everything, but was unable to stop the periods or the pain. She looked at me and said: "What ever happened to that nice little uterus I knew." She agreed that it was time for a hysterectomy and we set a date in December.
To help the time go by, I had a uterus coming out party. I figured it was time to celebrate Hector's demise. I kicked my husband out of the house and invited my girlfriends over to a night of wine, whiskey and chocolate cake. My very creative friend Dana, brought over walnuts (which were approximately the size of my tumor) and with glue, string, various fabric and funny eyes, we set out to make our own interpretation of what my tumor looked like. When my husband returned at one O'clock he found about a dozen little Hectors on the table staring up at him.
By December 2nd I was ready for my hysterectomy. My doctor assured me that morning that "One way or another, that uterus is coming out today!" My doctor tried to take my uterus out vaginally, but the damn thing wouldn't budge. So an hour and a half into the surgery she had to switch to cutting me open. The operation took around 3 hours, but it was out! When the results came back from pathology I had a total of 4 non-cancerous tumors in my uterus. Seems Hector was having his own party.
To help the time go by, I had a uterus coming out party. I figured it was time to celebrate Hector's demise. I kicked my husband out of the house and invited my girlfriends over to a night of wine, whiskey and chocolate cake. My very creative friend Dana, brought over walnuts (which were approximately the size of my tumor) and with glue, string, various fabric and funny eyes, we set out to make our own interpretation of what my tumor looked like. When my husband returned at one O'clock he found about a dozen little Hectors on the table staring up at him.
By December 2nd I was ready for my hysterectomy. My doctor assured me that morning that "One way or another, that uterus is coming out today!" My doctor tried to take my uterus out vaginally, but the damn thing wouldn't budge. So an hour and a half into the surgery she had to switch to cutting me open. The operation took around 3 hours, but it was out! When the results came back from pathology I had a total of 4 non-cancerous tumors in my uterus. Seems Hector was having his own party.
Monday, February 2, 2009
How the hell do you do this?
Okay, I'm working on my first blog attempt. I've gone through the whole "its so easy" thing and am now writing. I'm going to follow my own process as I work on my screenplays and figure out my life in this new year. I voiced to my husband that I would like to blog, so he pulled up all the information to help inspire me i.e. called my bluff.
My life over the past year has changed a lot. At the beginning of the year I worked in a bakery that was in a natural foods grocery store, I was the manager and wrote on the side. I was the primary money earner for several years while my husband went to school. We decided that once he had finished school, it would be my turn to get a new job, one not so physically demanding, and hopefully, one that would give me time to write. Though I loved baking and the people, after a 8-9 hour day of hefting 50 lbs flour bags and hand forming artisan breads, I had very little energy at the end of the day to write. Plus I had Sunday and Monday off, so my husband and I only got 1 day off together.
In August of 07 my husband finished school and got a job In January of 08, I started to look for new work I wasn't sure what kind of job I could get, I just knew I wanted something with regular hours and weekends off to spend with my husband. I lucked into a recruiter who looked at my resume and put me forward for a job doing customer development for a stainless steel and aluminum distribution center. All I had to do was call existing customers and see if they needed anything and research new customers. I started work in March of 2008. The job was wonderful and so were the people.
Its funny but I could be more myself at this job then working in the natural grocery store. Here I could talk about shooting guns, canning foods, writing and generally just be myself. At the natural grocery store I kept a lot to myself, particularly things like enjoying shooting guns. The other amazing thing about this job was "paid holidays!" I was in retail for 14 years so I never knew about such a thing as having the Fourth of July off paid, or Memorial Day or almost any other holiday. I did have Christmas Day off and Thanksgiving Day, but the amount of work in a bakery before major food holidays left me pretty dang tired.
Working at the stainless steel place was amazing! Not only could I talk about guns, I actually called local gun manufacturers and set up accounts with a couple. I got to speak to folks in aerospace so the geek side of my nature got nurtured. I had a whole hour lunch in which I could work on my writing, and if this wasn't enough I wasn't tired at the end of the day AND I left the job at work! No late night calls from sick workers, no worries about production levels. This job was pretty much heaven to me!
The new job was great, time off with my husband was great, then in June I started to have some pretty bad periods. The pain got worse and worse, till my Doctor finally suggested an ultrasound so they could look for fibrous tumors. That night, after my doctor's appointment, I was hospitalized because the pain was so bad. Seems like my very sensible body decided to get rid of the tumor. Basically, I went into labor while my body struggled to expel the tumor. The tumor was located in my uteruin lining, so it was the equivalent of my body trying to turn itself inside out.
I was worried about talking to my new boss about this, he's a great guy, but here I was in a more male dominate environment having something this intensely female happen to me. I went into the office of my boss with my note from the hospital, he looked at me and said "I had a female friend, she had something similar, it was fibrous tumors." I smiled and said "Exactly". My boss nodded and he said "I got it, we don't have to talk about it anymore, whatever you need to do. Don't worry about a thing, just take care of yourself."
My life over the past year has changed a lot. At the beginning of the year I worked in a bakery that was in a natural foods grocery store, I was the manager and wrote on the side. I was the primary money earner for several years while my husband went to school. We decided that once he had finished school, it would be my turn to get a new job, one not so physically demanding, and hopefully, one that would give me time to write. Though I loved baking and the people, after a 8-9 hour day of hefting 50 lbs flour bags and hand forming artisan breads, I had very little energy at the end of the day to write. Plus I had Sunday and Monday off, so my husband and I only got 1 day off together.
In August of 07 my husband finished school and got a job In January of 08, I started to look for new work I wasn't sure what kind of job I could get, I just knew I wanted something with regular hours and weekends off to spend with my husband. I lucked into a recruiter who looked at my resume and put me forward for a job doing customer development for a stainless steel and aluminum distribution center. All I had to do was call existing customers and see if they needed anything and research new customers. I started work in March of 2008. The job was wonderful and so were the people.
Its funny but I could be more myself at this job then working in the natural grocery store. Here I could talk about shooting guns, canning foods, writing and generally just be myself. At the natural grocery store I kept a lot to myself, particularly things like enjoying shooting guns. The other amazing thing about this job was "paid holidays!" I was in retail for 14 years so I never knew about such a thing as having the Fourth of July off paid, or Memorial Day or almost any other holiday. I did have Christmas Day off and Thanksgiving Day, but the amount of work in a bakery before major food holidays left me pretty dang tired.
Working at the stainless steel place was amazing! Not only could I talk about guns, I actually called local gun manufacturers and set up accounts with a couple. I got to speak to folks in aerospace so the geek side of my nature got nurtured. I had a whole hour lunch in which I could work on my writing, and if this wasn't enough I wasn't tired at the end of the day AND I left the job at work! No late night calls from sick workers, no worries about production levels. This job was pretty much heaven to me!
The new job was great, time off with my husband was great, then in June I started to have some pretty bad periods. The pain got worse and worse, till my Doctor finally suggested an ultrasound so they could look for fibrous tumors. That night, after my doctor's appointment, I was hospitalized because the pain was so bad. Seems like my very sensible body decided to get rid of the tumor. Basically, I went into labor while my body struggled to expel the tumor. The tumor was located in my uteruin lining, so it was the equivalent of my body trying to turn itself inside out.
I was worried about talking to my new boss about this, he's a great guy, but here I was in a more male dominate environment having something this intensely female happen to me. I went into the office of my boss with my note from the hospital, he looked at me and said "I had a female friend, she had something similar, it was fibrous tumors." I smiled and said "Exactly". My boss nodded and he said "I got it, we don't have to talk about it anymore, whatever you need to do. Don't worry about a thing, just take care of yourself."
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