Heartbreak

So The Girl took the weather delay as a cue and spiked another fever last night. After being on antibiotics for three days. I took her back to the doctor this morning and she changed the antibiotic to something stronger and more broad spectrum. Although we’re both starting to think that this sucker is viral. Which really bites, because that means we just have to wait for it to pass. And it’s been a week now. So even though it scared the crap out of me, I tried a different tactic this afternoon and did not treat her fever. I thought maybe that if it got high enough it would burn itself out. It topped out at 103.5, which is .1 below the temperature she had a seizure at so I was terrified, but it eventually started coming down a little. When we just put her to bed it was down to 102.3. Who knows if there’s anything to my theory or not. I just know I’m ready for her to be done with this now. She is so completely miserable and it just breaks my heart to watch her feel so punk.

Also today, I found out a good friend of mine from college has been missing since Tuesday. And that is such a “those things don’t happen to me or people I know” kind of thing. I mean she’s always been a crazy girl, but never the disappear and not at least check in with her family kind of crazy. I’m just hoping against hope that she’s safe and sound somewhere but out of cell phone range. Or maybe a new boyfriend whisked her away on a surprise vacation and forgot to tell her family. I’m hoping that she is not in trouble or in pain somewhere scared out of her wits praying to be rescued. It’s a scary thing and it breaks my heart to think about.

So it seems that my heart is breaking in all sorts of ways today. Heart break and worry abound today it appears. So join me in asking the powers that be to get my daughter well quickly and to protect J and keep her safe.

The Forgetting

I wrote thank you notes to the people I interviewed with today. And I was thinking that I’d just be able to sit down and write the suckers off the top of my head. Unfortunately for C, that is not at all how that happened. After writing two or three drafts I emailed her in a panic asking, once more, for help in the self promotion arena. And she came through, of course. She told me so very, very gently to buck up and stop writing about myself like I was a big fat wuss. And I appreciated it, I really did.

I finally got them done and sent. And now I’m just trying to forget all about it actually. I think I’ve done everything I can do. I have my fingers crossed. I’ve asked the universe to please come through on this one. I’ve got just about everyone I know pulling for me and sending all of the “she is going to get this job” vibes they can muster. I interviewed really well. I sent well written and well thought out thank you notes. Now all I can do is wait.

But for me the waiting in dangerous. Because my brain tends to take perfectly good things that I’ve done and warp them into what must have surely been crazy and totally stupid things. My brain likes to sabotage the hell out of me and my hope. It’s just mean. But true nonetheless. So I’m trying to just let it go and forget about it in the hopes that I’ll pull the plug on my brain’s power over me. So that I can look at this whole experience and know that I put everything I had into it and if I still don’t get the job it’s just because it wasn’t meant to be, not because I screwed something up as I’m sure my brain will try to tell me.

So I’m shutting it down. Willfully ignoring my brain and opting for better judgment. Yep. See here I go. Forgetting. Will you remind me that I chose to forget this when I’m freaking out in another week because I haven’t heard from them yet?

8/7/09 - I Day

Today was the day. The day that started off quietly with me drinking coffee and watching the campus wake up. The day that I was so worried about. The day where I would interview with 29 people (literally) over the course of an entire day for a position I really want. And it went by so quickly it left my head spinning. Pretty literally. Driving away from campus I almost had to pull over. I felt drunk; my head spinning and totally overwhelmed. But in the best possible way. I had so much fun. And that’s an outcome that never once crossed my mind. But that is exactly what happened.

My time interviewing with the administration big whigs had me working in the vision of the position. Plans for what is to come and strategy. My time spent with the search committee and other staff members was much more focused on the concrete and nitty gritty of the day to day job responsibilities. So it was fun to go back and forth from ethereal strategic planning to specifics of how the infrastructure works. And meeting (or re-meeting) all of these people was all at the same time intimidating, engaging, lovely and left me feeling totally amped up and completely ready to start the job tomorrow. It was, without a doubt and quite surprisingly, the best interview I’ve ever had.

I was utterly me through the whole thing. I tried to strike a balance between my professional side and my family. Because both sides are extremely important to me, so I tried to leave them with that impression of me. That my life is about balance, or at the very least that is what I struggle to make it. I let myself be funny and smart. I was grateful and humble while at the same time leaving no doubt that I know exactly what I’m talking about.

I felt powerful and so completely rooted in my own strength that I didn’t really want the whole thing to end. But end it did. And they said they’d be in touch in the next two weeks. Do you think I can keep my fingers crossed for that long?

Wily Universe Renewal

The call came today. The one that I’ve been hoping for, but didn’t really expect to receive. My alma mater called today. Even as the HR Director was saying hello and asking how I was, I fully expected her to say that they had chosen who to interview and I wasn’t one of them. And then she said the exact opposite of that and said they wanted to interview me next week. Next week?!? Normally that would be more than enough time to figure out childcare and preparations. But this interview is in Nebraska. And The Boy starts school on Monday. A school whose handbook clearly states that parents should not take their children out of class unless absolutely necessary.

So as I could feel the adrenaline starting to pulse with the anticipation of having this interview in a week. I could also feel the panic start to set in as I was quickly trying to figure out how to make all of this happen. I asked if I could call her back so I could make arrangements, called my husband to see if he could get the time off, which he couldn’t. Called my mom not really expecting her to be able to help much except to brainstorm with me. Sent emails to all of my friends who still live in the area around my college to see if they had any ideas. And waited for inspiration to strike, or maybe the fingers of the universe to reach down and work their wily ways and just make it all work out.

And you know what? Those fingers got right to work. My mom called me back to ask what day the interview was and then to tell me that she’d be here the day before I had to leave to drive back there and would stay through the weekend to help with the kids. Just like that, it all worked out. It’s moments like that that renew my faith. Moments like that and the fact that my dear friend R had her sweet baby boy today, on her birthday.

Moments like that, healthy babies and the fact that my mom is a rock star.

Quote-able

I started my day by asking for people to send me quotes about life on my Facebook page and here are some of what I got:

“You never get away, you just get somewhere else.” - Unknown

“No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an unchartered land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit." - Helen Keller

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than to be crowded on a velvet cushion.” – Thoreau

“I'd rather spend my time looking at the sky than listening to Whitney Houston." - Robert Smith

"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they're supposed to help you discover who you are.” - Unknown

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” - Maya Angelou

“We can't all be saints.” - John Dillinger

“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” – Anais Nin

“…real life sucks losers dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn how to fly.”– Winona Ryder in Heathers

That’s a pretty good representation of how I feel about life in general actually now that I link them all together like that. Life takes courage, hope, a tremendous sense of humor, a willingness to daydream, a bit of tragedy and cynicism, topped off by a sweet dollop of pop culture wit. Yep. That just about sums up my world view.

And I think one thing I’m discovering on my staycation is that I’ve lost touch with some of these things a bit. The daily grind has just about ground my sense of humor to dust while the constant sense of emergency has brought my hope and daydreams to their knees. I’ve pretty much just been in survival mode. It’s hard to keep perspective in the midst of that.

But through the quiet and calm these past couple of days I actually caught myself thinking that one way or the other, everything will work out. It always does, why should now be any exception? I always am exactly where I should be.

Jobs and Jobs

So I heard on the job. The big job that I interviewed for more than a month ago now and wanted so badly I was already decorating my office? Yeah, that one. I got an email first thing this morning saying that “although I was extraordinarily qualified, they had chosen a candidate that more closely matched the qualifications.” Yes. I am bitter. And you would be too! I have 9 solid years in my field, have great references and have an incredible success record given the plethora of organizations (each with a fantastically ambitious mission statement) with which I’ve worked. I know. I know! It’s a tough job market and employers are able to cherry pick on whatever little tiny elements of qualification or requirement they want. I get that. I guess I just thought I’d make it at least to the interview stage more than I have. Although, granted, if I had made it to the interview stage and then still not gotten a job by now I’m pretty sure I’d be taking it much more personally.

Essentially? I’m whining.

But I also got a call from my alma mater today. I missed the call of course because they chose to call my cell for some reason and my cell lives in my car and we went almost no where today, so I never heard the sucker ring. When I did get it, my heart took off racing to who knows where and my head started swimming with “should I call them back now even though I know they’ve all gone home for the day?” “Are they calling because I screwed something else up in my application and they’re calling because they want verification that I actually went to their college?” I don’t know. But I did call them back and left a ridiculously nervous message on the voicemail and hopefully they’ll call me back tomorrow morning. And then hopefully? They will schedule a phone interview which I will breeze through sounding intelligent and competent. Then they will ask me to come there for an interview and they will woo me and give me the job on the spot.

A girl can hope right?

Hope for Payback

I applied for a job with my alma mater today. I’ve actually spent the last few years occasionally looking at their employment section, hoping that there would be something I was qualified for in the administrative offices. And today there was. I got really excited and pulled together my application really quickly, sent out emails to all of my on-campus contacts asking for them to whisper in any ears or pull any strings they may have available to them and sent out a direct request to the universe to please, please, please just let me get this one.

College was an incredibly cathartic time for me. I arrived on campus wondering what I was doing there; being a high school dropout, covered in ink and metal and hugely liberal didn’t quite make me the poster child for this prestigious mid-western college. But when I graduated I had the utmost confidence not only in my intelligence, but also in my being and purpose. I was surrounded by a huge group of people who loved and supported me for who I was and I them. Those four years saw me come into who I am with power, humility and confidence.

So I’ve been looking for a way for years to pay that back somehow. We’ve never had enough money to really be able to make any kind of sizable donations, so I knew it wouldn’t be as some financial contributor. I’ve been hoping I could go work on campus and be a part of the institution that has come to mean so very much to me. This could be the chance.

The fact that we still have some of our closest friends living in the area is a huge bonus. They’ve all started having babies of their own, so it would be like moving back to an immense extended family. And the standard of living is SO much cheaper than it is here, so that would help our financial situation as well.

The only con I can find is being that much further away from my parents. That will be really hard. But the potential for all the pros may just even that out a bit. Maybe.

A Glimpse of Life After

As I stood out on our deck this morning basking in the cool before the heat descended, I overheard my mom teaching The Girl how to play Go Fish through her open bedroom window. It was a lovely bit of eavesdropping full of grandmotherly love, 3-year old exuberance and a sense of normality which has been absent from just about everything lately.

The kids have been really sweet with my mom. We told them she was sick and so they had to be very gentle with her. The Girl laid down with her to take a nap yesterday. The Boy loves that she’s here every afternoon when he gets out of summer school bearing new artwork to hang on the wall in her bedroom. And they both love that she’s teaching them Go Fish. Nana not being able to get rowdy with them per the usual course is giving them a chance to really just be with each other and enjoy one another’s company, which is so wonderful for me to get to watch.

We took mom to the doctor today to have her angio site checked and The Boy dutifully pushed her wheelchair into the office so she didn’t have to work too hard. The Girl asked sweetly afterwards if Nana was still ok. And then I drug us all to the grocery store as we had close to zero food in the house except for Cheerio’s, marshmallows and tinned turkey.

It was a bordering on normal kind of day. It was a reminder for all of us that while mom is currently a bit on the fragile side that she’s still Nana. It was a chance to see past the trauma and into the present of healing and progress. It was a chance to look forward and imagine when I didn’t have to keep her from picking up her grandchildren or remind her to take her meds or take her blood pressure twice a day or memorize all of her medications or repeat the same terrifying story time after time.

It was a chance to see, a mere 5 days afterwards, that there is and will be life after my mom’s heart attack.

Live and Let Live

I have an extremely hard time walking the line between reality and love. There are so many people and things that I love and the boundary between them, with their vibrant colors and fantastical joy, disappears in the face of the cold and stark reality of everyday life. I have so many brilliant and talented people who sing, dance, play music and create amazing works of art with pen, paint and performance. I’ve such deep respect and adoration for these people whom I am lucky enough to call my friends.

The problem is that one of my biggest strengths is also my biggest weakness. I am an eternally hopeful, hopeless romantic. That capacity enables me to be a giver in the broadest sense of the word. I would give anything for my family and friends, especially if it was to help them achieve something they really believed in. It enables me to always see a silver lining. It enables me to always be on the lookout for the light at the end of the tunnel, even when I can’t see my hand in front of my face for the darkness. The flip side, however, is that if one of these people whom I love, has to pass on a gig because they can’t get the time off of work, or they have to shift their artistic style in order to land jobs that will actually pay the bills or they turn their passion into a job that takes them away from everyone who loves them, I get filled with so much irrational anger that I am sure they think I’m crazy.

Anger at the world for low-jacking them in an effort to ensure adherence to a predetermined flight path. Anger that the reality of doing your soul’s work most of the time is not as shiny and ephemeral as it could be. Anger at brilliance compromised.

But even that anger is romanticized I think. Because it goes from one extreme to the other. I think the real problem is not the world, or how artists exist in that world, but my attachment to a romantic vision which in and of itself places limits on love.

Hula to Hope

“Dig it up, dust off the tarnish and stick that sucker to the dashboard.”

I said this to an old friend yesterday in reference to hope. We were talking about the days when that’s all we have left and this little gem floated to the surface. The phrase itself has so much going on and so many cross references that it’s hard to tell what exactly I was going for here. But you can definitely tell that I’m all spun around attempting to find my bearings.

And that pretty much sums it up right now. I have no intention of making this another post full of whining and poor pitiful me. Lord knows I’ve done that enough both in writing and in an ongoing litany in my head to last us all a lifetime. This post is really about getting back to the hope that I try to distill from every day. Regardless of whether that day contains my daughter having a seizure, or having to return a car that we love, or my son struggling mightily learning to read. Or whether that day is absolutely nothing special. Because those are far more plentiful than the others.

It’s those daily grind days that really test my ability to dust anything off, let alone see through tarnish. The days when I’m treading water endlessly, trying to fix my sights on the endless horizon. The days when I’m bone tired. The days when I’m bored out of my mind and pushed to my limits of tolerance and patience.

Today was one of those days. I just woke up surly. Knowing I had a long day stretched before me with no real plans and two bouncing children. So we went to a sweet movie and then on to grocery shopping so I could actually cook this evening.

Making soup brought a grounding feeling and entertaining the notion that tomorrow may be the day when I get the call about the job brought a sense of uplifted relief. Tomorrow is playdate and camp. Perhaps sun will outweigh the rain tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the opportunity to affix hope, yet again, to my own dashboard, to hula its way into existence.

The West Wing

I discovered The West Wing when The Boy was just a little bitty and refused to let me put him down. I fortunately had the room in my business at the time that I didn’t have to fight much with him about that fact. So we spent day after lovely day with him attached to me in some way and me sitting on the couch watching movies, playing with him and eventually watching The West Wing.

After seeing the first 10 minutes or so of the first episode I couldn’t believe that I had never watched it before. Aaron Sorkin ranks right up there with Joss Whedon in the can-do-no wrong department. I love his wit and unabashed hope mingled with sardonic dialogue.

Now that my beloved series is over, I DVR the re-runs on Bravo. They often coincide with my kids’ favorite morning shows, so we’ve had many discussions of how they are NOT allowed to stop the recording of my show in favor of Scooby Doo. Much to their utter and complete dismay.

What still gets me about the show is that no matter the subject matter, whether it’s a reporter being killed in the Congo, Josh getting shot or watching CJ and Charlie duke it out in a monumental feud of practical jokes, I spend much of the time on the verge of tears tempered by outbursts of laughter. This show quite simply, and quite sappily, speaks to my heart.

I love politics. I love to watch the human dynamic. I love to watch brilliant writing come to life. I love to watch elegant characters tackle the craziest of issues. And it must be said, I love Bradley Whitford. He makes me a wee bit giddy. Also? John Spencer. I don’t think I need to say much more about him. Except for maybe that I still cry when I think that he’s no longer walking this earth.

I think mostly the show speaks to the part of me that will always believe in our political system. And with The West Wing comes a hope that if this one man can think this way, that maybe there are more where he came from.