Work fills my spirit

I shouldn’t apologize for being who I am, but I do see, at least at times, how different I am from the “normal” world.  Today, I went to an employment agency. It was really by accident that I happened to get there but I decided to follow through. I had to watch a video and then take a test on the video. I apparently did very well  Nothing to complicated. I then met with a counselor. I was told I needed to dumb down my resume as most of my work experience didn’t fit well into the receptionist, admin. asst. category.  If I weren’t so frustrated with myself, it might be funny. 

I have never wanted to work in an office in the traditional sense and so my experience in offices has been as a consultant or as a freelancer. I have taught, been on boards of organizations, worked as a workshop facilitator, speech writer to mention a few. I guess that doesn’t qualify me to work as an admin. asst.  Yet, as the conversation continued, I mentioned a job I thought I was originally applying for. It turns out that the job was for 3 lawyers. Oh boy. My husband, a trial lawyer, has wanted me to work with him while my job hunt continues.  So, that was ironic.

When I added that I thought I would fit fine into a communications dept. or a marketing dept. for a hosp., for example, she said, “yes, that would be a good fit only we just do clerical staff…” OK. Wrong employment agency.

Then I think, I should really work with my husband (that presents a whole other set of issues) part time and do my writing a few days a week. I just got two assignments today. One I am excited about as it has to do with domestic violence. No, I am not excited about domestic violence but about researching and interviewing people associated with addressing the issue. (Just to be clear…) And my friend, who wants me to help her write a book about children, addiction, and mental illness wants to get started on the project next week.  

Maybe the universe is giving me a message. Maybe I should stop trying to orchestrate  the whole thing and go with the flow. Wow– that sounds like an article I write several years ago. Hmm.  

I do wish, that I could support myself writing what I want to write about.

Healing with laughter

It has been an emotionally rough several weeks. Nothing specific except my endless need to beat myself up.  While I can make that statement, I become aggravated with my husband should he state something similar. I don’t need him to point out my failings, I excel at paying attention to my flaws. Anyway, my mood has been pretty “sucky” as they say, despite the joy of having my son home. But, he and my daughter do bring such lightness into my being. 

Today was father’s day. A few of my family came for the afternoon. My dad, who celebrated his 88th birthday this past week and my mom were here. The day was pleasant but I was eager for everyone to leave so that my son, my daughter, and her friend who is staying with us for a couple of weeks could go to the movies. We decided to see Year One. My husband didn’t want to go, he is not a big fan of Jack Black’s, and these days not a big fan of mine…

I find books and movies to be a great release for me. I laughed so hard throughout the movie. My daughter was laughing at me as I was gasping for breath. I seriously related to the absurdity of many of the moments in the film. I am reminded of the time when I saw The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy and there were literally two people screaming with laughter in the theatre– me and the man behind me.  I do so enjoy a good laugh. I have always been that way. When I was acting, my friends and I were always fooling around and laughing. It just feels sooooo good after a big long laugh.

I needed that laugh and the universe answered.  My children are always willing to laugh along with me and so we do imitations and weird voices and faces and then laugh. Because of his musical ability, my son does great voices and dialects.  He allows me to express a part of myself that has gotten lost –for that I am grateful. 

Perhaps I need to rent all those crazy movies that have made me laugh hard and long. I know I need a bit of healing these days.

Working Out

I started with my personal trainer today. This is not the first time I have worked with a trainer. I do hope that it is better. We are working differently than the last time I did this. We are not using machines and are working with my core strength — or should I say the lack of core strength.

Part of my problem relates to the body memory which is strong with in me. I move into a posture and can easily recall how once I did the move with ease. I don’t think there was one exercise I did today that came with ease or grace for that matter. Oh well. At least I am back on track.  

I do need to occupy my mind with a different type of work out. Negative thinking, beating myself up and all that powerfully negative stuff I have down pat. Now, with this yet again, new beginning I have to remain positive, optimistic and trust. The universe actually has been kind to me. I must remember to smile and work out those face muscles. Smile and the psychy receives a boost. 

My good friend read my first few chapters and gave me some wonderful feed back. So now I continue to push forward and one day, maybe soon, I will actually have a novel on my hands.  The key, keep writing, writing, writing.

Trekking out to the mid-west

I love to travel.  I went out to Indiana to help my son pack up his things for the summer and to come home. That in itself was a joy. But, before I could get there, I first had to go through the airport, board the plane, de-board, and board another plane. Most of it was fine unless you take in the aggravation of dealing with everyday folk. I am always reminded of an expression in those times when my patience is worn thin, that I love humanity. It is just people I hate.  I know this may sound soooo very elitist but it is true.  There is something about people who don’t read, don’t listen, and don’t pay attention that annoys me. They some how invade my space. So, on my way out to Indiana I had to do a good deal of breathing. For some reason, I was particularly bothered.  Maybe I was just anxious to be with my son. It had been a couple of months since I had seen him. I do miss him when he is gone. 

The packing up, moving things to storage, shipping things home went easier and faster than I had anticipated. The best part was that we got to laugh a lot– usually at my expense, but I didn’t mind. The flights home were much easier. Probably because my son was a distraction, but also because it actually paid to upgrade since we had so much luggage. We sat in business class. It was quite, and comfortable. The moment we sat down the stewardess wanted to know if we would like something to drink. Ah, sipping away on my drink (a coke)  as I watched all the plebeians file by. To bad the next time I fly I will again return to the world of the masses. Heee Heee Heee.

Looking for work

Besides spending time filling out profile forms on the computer for job applications, I decided to go down to the local Panera Bread and apply for a position advertised in the local paper. I had to force myself to change into more appropriate clothes and rushed out of the house before I could change my mind.

Money, that is what was behind the push. Anyway, I walked in and asked about the job application. After I finished filling in their form, I noticed a knot of people in a corner. I saw a woman holding a stack of applications and 5 other applicants near her. Being a bit pushy, I walked right up to her and handed in my application. We walked away from the crowd and I actually thought “great, I may get an interview!”

How wrong I was. I was told that they were gathering the applications and would hold them on file. I was also told that there was a stack of applications that had not even been looked at yet. So much for that. I should have kept my comfortable sweat pants on — at least I would have been comfortable in my un-comfortability…

 I just remind myself that the Gods that be must have something better in store for me.

Poverty and the Arts

It has been many years since my struggle to earn a living as an actress. Despite my talent, I labored under the perception of that the purity of my art, for which I was seriously trained and commercialism (earning a real living were not compatible.) I am no longer acting, at least not on the stage. But, I still struggle with my concept of art, commercialism, and selling out.  At the moment, I am working on a novel. It is a new area of writing for me and I avoided it with a passion. I didn’t know the best way to approach the project –blah, blah, blah. So, with some encouragement  I began to write. 

Where is this line of thinking taking me? I haven’t a clue, but I know that I get frustrated when I have to write something that is not of social or artistic value. That leaves most of what one earns a living writing about out of the picture. Thus, I find myself being true to some notion of art and lacking a secure income. My artistic vision doesn’t  put food on the table nor pay my son’s college tuition bill. Sometimes, I think I am stuck in another century. I really should try to get a sponsor so that I can just go about my merry way exploring this or that artistic medium  for the pleasure of the creative experience.  

In the meantime, I will continue to struggle to write my first novel, I will fight to control my expectations of a life creatively lived, and look for writing work that can pay the bills. Anyone need a speech? Perhaps, a ghost writer? How about a letter? I was actually Ed Koch’s correspondence writer OH soooo many years ago…

The business of writing

I just finished surfing the net — G-d only knows if there is a new expression for that now. That statement reflects how I feel at this moment. I read an article in the Times today about branding. Yuck. And, I was looking through the help wanted section of my local paper. There was an ad for a writer but the IT programs that were required, not just experience but expertise was astounding to me.

If I wanted to be a techy, I would have studied that. I come from a background that is interdisciplinary in nature. But, please, this is too much. And, while I am complaining, what is up with these sites where you bid for work. There was someone bidding on something and charging 40 cents per hour. OMG! Can any one compete with that? 

I guess I am getting a little  bit too old since I am resisting this so much. Still the fact is that I have this blog, I am on Tweeter, I have a website, and a facebook page. Oh please. I am SOOOO over it. Flick of the wrist… Had on hip. As my daughter would do.

Writing to inform

I have been working on a piece about hormone replacement therapy. How distressing to learn that once again  the FDA has abandoned its obligation to protect the consumer and not the manufacturers. In this case, the pharmaceutical companies.  Presently, there is a strident campaign against bio-identical hormone replacement therapy. The basis for this campaign is the billions of dollars at stake for the pharmaceutical companies. 

The is a place in medicine for more than one treatment. It seems more than reasonable to me that women should have the option to choose whether they want and need to take synthetically created hormones or bio-identical hormones. The science for bio-identical hormones is available. Unfortunately, the issue will only become moot when the pharmaceutical industry has figured out how to create bio-identical therapies that they can patent.

Bidding on work

Recently, I went to a few  freelance writing sites to see what was happening there. I experienced two things. First, one must pay to join most of them and second,  bidding includes people from all over the world. I believe I stumbled upon a scam. I applied for a job and received an e-mail telling me to follow a link to finish the online application. I was led to one of these sites where I had to pay to get in. I thought that was a bit suspicious.

Next, I found a site that allowed one to view the jobs though to bid one had to be a member. What was most disturbing to me were the bids. Someone overseas was bidding to write an article for $O.45. Please, how can one compete with that.  I have worked in the arts most of my life and I am offended by the assumption that it is OK to work for nothing. Sorry, but how do I pay my electric bill, or indeed the initiation fee at wages like that. 

I”ll just keep looking…

Friends on Facebook

Recently, I started a facebook page. I did so mostly to be able to communicate with my son quickly –at least that was my plan. I don’t know that much has changed with our communications patterns but in the process I experienced something else entirely new. 

A friend of mine, who is a conservative radio talk show host ( we rarely discuss politics these days) also recently started a facebook page. She  instantly had hundreds of friends. I received a request from someone on her page to be a friend. This person indicated that she too was a writer. Always looking to make new connections I befriended her. We exchanged a few brief comments and then I was tagged. While looking around her page, I came across a photo of Obama. I saw that there was something on the photo and out of curiosity I clicked on it to get a better look. The words and the hatred that spewed forth from those words was startling and all I could think about was that I had allowed this person access to me and my friends. 

I asked my daughter how I could remove this person. Her response, filled with amused disbelief at my question, simply stated: delete her. Wow! Just like that delete her. But then I worried, what would this woman think and what might she do if I deleted her. She was, after all, not quite what I had hoped for in a new friend. So, I have a new quandary, do I find out more about her or do I delete her.  Click and you are instantly deleted! That feels so very final to me. But, then I think of the photo on her page which she thought was wonderful and I ask, is there really anything else to consider…