identity crises

P had to help me through another bout of depression. This job/career thing is really stressing me out. I need a new job, but I don't want a career in the things that I could get a job in. I don't want to be a communications person in a non profit for the rest of my life, although that would be an interesting and BETTER paying job than I have now. But when I start thinking about what I want to do and all the money and time that will go into getting to any of those things, I start hyperventilating.

I feel like my parents or maybe my mom, see me as a writer or whathaveyou, but won't encourage me to go for it. I don't know. I can't blame her, but I feel, I need, I crave someone telling me I am awesome at this one thing and that I should totally DO something for it.

Anyway, I feel a little ill. Sick, tired. Confused.

I can't wait to get out of this current job.

Tomorrow I can water my plants, get a new social security card and return my car.

frustrating

people. especially people with a need to steal plants or knock them over or maybe place them under a table where they can't get sun JUST for the hell of it. P believes it's our neighborhood--i did find a cigarette butt in my lavender. I guess I don't want to think ill of people--that whomever did this might enjoy turning over a pot. I only hope that the thief is growing my butterfly flower plant for him or herself. I would feel better knowing that.

luckily my tomato plants have been fed worm poo and water and are now standing up and one is really tall and his stem is really thick.

and my peppermint is a green shoot of hope.

and then, really, the flowering catalpa is beginning to show.

they make me feel better in face of dudes calling dudes fucking faggots and people pulling flowers out of flower boxes and people throwing their trash everywhere.

a day in the life

 

I took the camera out to photograph my plants--just so I have a record they were alive before they all die. In the process, I gathered a few more pictures.

Going from the top left and reading like we are supposed to (l-r):
1. My peppermint plant coming back to life. It was knocked over out of its pot by vandals and its roots spent the day drying out. I have cut it done considerably and am now doing daily motivational speeches for it. It's slowly coming back--which makes me very happy.

2. My jade and I have had a long and troubled life together. I am excited to see it growing. The orange dust is cayenne that I sprinkled on it to keep Audrey from snacking.

3. The flowering catalpa that has yet to sprout. It's from our wedding. Ryan's has already sprouted so that made us really excited to try ours out. Hopefully, we'll have a baby tree soon.

4. Aloe. I have almost killed it three times. I don't know why it just doesn't give in. I am horrible to it. I don't mean to be but it just happens. I finally bought the appropriate soil for succulents and mr. aloe is now, oh, cool.

5. The last rose from my bouquet. I had such a hard time getting rid of the bouquet. --it was turning yellow and brown but I wanted it to live forever. Finally, I pulled one rose out of it and Patrick put the rest down the garbage chute. I am trying to dry it out--if Salinger doesn't get to it first.

6.Audrey! Audrey's tongue! I can't believe I got this shot.

7. Petunia drying out from the flood. I love the feeling of petunia petals. I think I really like the word, "petunia".

8. A plant given to me by Marion that is slowly coming to life after living with me for 7 months. I think Audrey gets into it occasionally. I sprinkled it with cayenne too, but perhaps she likes her salads spicy.

9. A baby spider plant. With nibble marks. But it's growing and it makes me happy to see fresh shoots.

10. Patrick's godzilla. Still guarding our window. Now he hangs out with this cool lamp and the chimes we got as a wedding present. It's an eccletic mix. He's all GRRRR and the chimes are chimey.

11. Keeping ties with Boston. Go Sox.

12. Keeping ties with old friends. This was a gift from Wolfson's sister for all the work we did helping him help her for her wedding. I love the mouth. It can hold a lot of bottle tops.

13. Patrick's baseball card. So damn cute. He was a catcher.

14. The cover of one of my favorite books for kids. BOW WOW BUGS A BUG. It's totally trippy and there are no words. The story is told thru pictures--so it's a graphic novel for kids. Ellen in kids thinks it's too old to be downstairs. I think we should bring it upstairs for other adults who love what looks like a drug induced story.

15. Gus gave me a smile. I am using it.

16. Our installation piece. Flowers in our wall.

17. Salinger staying still for .2 seconds.

18. My marigolds and rhododendron. We bought the rhododendron in Chelsea's memory. I thought I killed it, which killed me, thinking it's not good to ruin things that are in memoriam. I talked to Garden District dude and he said, take it outside. It worked. I got green leaves!

19. My citronella geranium. It's supposed to spook mosquitoes. It's not really working because the smell comes when you rub the leaves. Mosquitoes just don't rub the leaves and instead hang out in the soil.

20. Salad! Mesclun from my garden. I am going to eat it in a bit. More of a symbolic salad than a real salad. I hope it's still tasty.

21. My cousin Andrew and me dancing with his daughter. Cuteness incarnate. She had so much energy.

22-25 are repeats.

floods and other metaphors

I had this emotional fallout on Tuesday evening, while I was looking for jobs. I get myself in this cyclical thought process from hell. I can't decide what job I want to apply for because I don't really know what I want to do, but I do know what I want to do--I want to write (or go to school for it). I told myself I could go to library school so that at least I would have a career and some flexibility if we needed to move or something. Then I was like why am I spending money on going to library school when I really want to write, but then I yell at myself for not writing. And then say I should just get a good job. This is hindered by my jumping around and how my face says, I don't really want this as my career in my interviews. Usually this whole process ends up with me in tears, drinking beers and being consoled by P, who must be sick of this whole thing by now.

Yesterday I searched for low-residency programs and more jobs. I felt better. Of course, there is my anger that PP won't look forward and admit that I could be a great asset to their store. I feel like I am getting handed little treats for being good, but that they have no intention of ever promoting me. So I am really forced to look for new jobs, because I can't be acknowledged.

So then, I am thinking that although I love it, why the hell am I doing that web stuff for PP? THey don't acknowledge it or even seem to see its benefits.

Then, yesterday evening, when I was done for work and realizing that I have 2 days off in a row!, we had a severe thunderstorm. The moat that has been dug around our house so that people can re-seal the foundation filled up with a foot of water. Our front entry way filled up with water and leaked into our house, bring silt, gravel, trash and that wonderful moisture smell. I spent a good hour bailing out the entryway while P tried his best to funnel the water out of our backyard. The moat then gave the water a more direct route into our foundation, so our rug is wet in the
bedroom.

This project was only supposed to take three days and now we're heading into the end of the second week of having our foundation exposed. Plus, it has messed up our back "yard" and therefore I can't GARDEN effectively. My plants are traumatized. It's awful.

Within 24 hours many tears and raindrops and bailing out my soul. Then the cover of the Onion: "Writer decides to use water as a metaphor"

b

two rings

 

A white gold wedding band and a googlie eye blue plastic ring. One for eternal love and one for a good game of skeeball.

I don't know when I took off the ring that evan gave me years ago. I have been wearing it on my thumb for ever it feels like...and now it's gone. My skin is beginning to go back to its original shape. I wore it thru my engagement and never felt bad about it. Suddenly, it seemed too crowded on my hands.

married life

has just begun. I like it already though. My mind has totally been given lots of space and freedom now. Like the ability to write in this blog, to dream up new buttons, space out on design, and just think.

Right now, I am making a mental list of the fun things I can do before I go to work tomorrow afternoon:

1. update www.bethesdacares.com
2. transplant some tomatoes
3. operation clean the damn kitchen
4. read more of Kristin Gore's new book, yet to be released, "Sammy's House"
5. think on how to get our wedding website into its next life of being our joint creative website.
6. make some yummy dinner
7. find the person who is using a coach's whistle indiscriminately and loudly and ask him/her to STOP.

advertise?

new topics?

kill the whistle.

get back into the game.