openscarf: (Default)

This week started off as if I was crouched in a runner’s start position and shot off when I heard the gun fire. Off and running I’ve been. Monday I worked about 12 hours straight, today just about 5. The afternoon was mine. Like I was on a different planet than last week. A good 48 hours.

 I really like the copy writing/editing job I’ve been doing, it appeals to me. I like the content and how the materials have to have continuity, a little punch and lots of data for something fun and informative—corporate convention type thing.

 I don’t think I’d like writing ad copy at all, I don’t want to be in advertising, but this seems like a good fit. I haven’t had too much feedback but have been given most of the documents to go over and more are coming. Friend/boss and the ones producing the event are in their own hell, because it’s way behind schedule due to various reasons. The material was all ready written and went through a first approval, so I’m unable to change too much, but my friend/boss all ready said she wishes she had brought me in sooner after she saw my first edit.

 I’m willing that energy to continue as we go further, because I’d love to keep doing this type of thing. I don’t mind if its contract work. I can be sitting here quietly and then something needs to be done and I do it. They’re keeping me fairly busy with other stuff; apparently the week we assemble and mail the packets will be intense. But fun I’m sure, wink.

I wrote an article for the newsite  yesterday afternoon and last night. It came out well, but I was struggling, I had interviewed the woman the night before and had to turn it in last night. That’s a rush for me. I loved the content so that helped.

And yesterday around 5, my recruiter called and asked me about a job, then asked if I could interview this morning at nine for it. Part-time, 2 ½ months, accounts payable work, pay not too hideous, not too far from here. Of course I said yes, so after I sent the article off at about 9:30, I washed my hair (my hair does better washed the night before unless I have literally hours to play with it) and got on the company’s website and studied for a while.

I enjoyed the interview. The energy was good between us; I spoke with the controller for over an hour and the AP person about 20 minutes. I think the hardest thing is trying to fit the pieces of a 2 part-time-temporary-jobs jigsaw puzzle together. I’m hoping that doesn’t scare them off. There’s an enormous part-time world out there; I’d like if I could make it work for me, I know I can. But can they? They were supposedly interviewing others this afternoon; time will tell.

I’m taking it as it comes and giving it my all.  I enjoyed meeting and talking with the people at the interview, I like the job they proposed and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll let it go and move on.

On another note, I’ve discovered if I use frozen spinach in my green smoothies, they’re much greener because I guess I use more than fresh and the consistency is so yummy. I’ve been flooding myself with chlorophyll. I thought I was getting sick on Sunday night, but seemed to have crushed it for now. Me and Popeye.



openscarf: (Default)
I like the look and feel of the fog today, it's cool outside and somewhat somber. The last several days were beautiful and sunny and I welcome the change. Such light filled days carry expectations that didn't mesh with me.

Waves ripple and undulate inside me, synapses are moving and reconnecting, a new place lives inside me that somehow reinforces the core of light  I "re-discovered" after the assault. All these are physically tangible to me, I feel them; old cells are being replaced, like normal I guess, but I don't usually feel them..

I don't feel like "myself", I'm eating less, my organs seem to be shifting around, yet I feel I'm becoming.

Yesterday was a day where I sank very low and felt a very quiet intense rage inside. A strange and horrible day; a day of frustration and loneliness and seemingly nothing coming in. I sat at the computer too long; I didn't meditate, I read, but fell asleep. I couldn't write. The sun made the day seem too happy and full, why wasn't I?  All the street noise and neighbor urban noise was torturing my every nerve.

I literally forced myself to do yoga at about 5 . Yoga, yoga, yoga. I always feel like rock star when I'm done.

I bought an airline ticket to go home for Thanksgiving, Monday through Friday. I have a couple things to write, I have my part-time job and hopefully more happening as this day goes on.

A livable paycheck makes you free in this world. My family is behind me and for the first time ever, I'm receiving more graciously. I believe that was another lesson from my sojourn to the desert. Nothing taken yet, but it's coming. Just a little.

I feel as if I'm hustling my ass off, but when the results are so tiny, I wonder why I can't find the path. Where the hell is the path?
openscarf: (meditate in forest)

Monday I had an interview with a recruiter for a job I had blindly applied for at one of the hospitals. I put my all into it and fought down the feelings of OH HELL NO, NOT ANOTHER JOB LIKE THE OTHER JOB, but really, just a “clerk” and for more money than many of the other jobs I’ve seen advertised although less than what I was making.

Plus getting in with one of the big hospitals here, close by, would be very secure, not the fickleness of retail, which is against my values anyway these days, just not into buying stuff for the hell of it.

Ironically, I may appear too qualified for these jobs because I was a supervisor. When I explained to the recruiter that I didn’t mind starting at the ground floor and learning the job and the culture and getting to know the team, and that coming in as a supervisor to an established team never bodes well, and each company has their own methods in that kind of work, she totally understood and said many of her clients say the exact same thing. I’ll have to wait and see what the employer thinks. I revised my resume a bit per her suggestions. I don’t want to manage or supervise anyone. I want to work and go home.

She submitted my resume. I’ve heard nothing but was kind of juiced up from the whole experience. Like the Fool in the Tarot, I feel ridiculously calm and confident of what is coming, even though money is not coming in right now but is flowing out.

My part-time creative work hopefully kicks in tomorrow when my boss/friend is back from her presentation.

California had a heat wave; the Bay Area wasn’t hit as hard as LA, except inland. I liked how languid it made me feel. Meditating and yoga have been sublime; I’ve been reading a lot, not writing very much though.

I’m wondering where to take my Burning Man blog. It was all about deciding and preparing to go. I don’t know if I end it, start another one, or somehow figure out some continuity for it that evolves into 2011. I’m thinking about that, it was my baby for five months.

 Last night I met a good friend at the lake, I walked and brought a blanket and wine, she drove from work and brought good munchies and we enjoyed the cooling down of a hot afternoon, in the grass under a tree, people watching, pretty setting and got caught up.

We’re both tired of overpriced drinks and small plate food around here. It’s not like when you go to these places, people want to socialize with others. People are in their bubbles, paying a lot for usually really good food and expensive drinks. I loved doing what we did. We should have another month or so before the weather gets dreary.

She’s a huge jazz fan and is in with people who have house parties that feature pretty good jazz musicians who like the small gigs in addition to the larger venues they play. There’s a cool one coming up in a week or so that sounds groovy. These are good alternatives for socializing and easier to meet people, particularly men. I want back on that road. Maybe it’s like that new show with Betty White, Hot in Cleveland.  Hah.

openscarf: (Default)
It took the first day of fall for summer to finally find us here. Yesterday was nice, today is even warmer but not too hot that I can't sit on the sofa. Tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter. For the last few hours, here I've been. The light is beautiful coming in the partially shaded windows, the tv is on to HGTV, volume low and my fan is on, making a drowsy comforting background. It feels luscious and delicious; thank you warm sun.

I looked at many job ads, I'm concentrating on part-time for now because I have a month long part-time job with a good friend, helping her manage creative print materials for a BMW conference coming up. It's a very good gig with very good pay and my goal is to nail it and get further into this type of thing. I'm still writing for the site, but it's spotty and I don't know what direction it's going in. I'm still waiting for a fattish check, which is another part of it that's beginning to bug me. As a good friend recently wrote me, I'm reaching out for opportunities in the dark.

I want to briefly say, I'm pretty nervous about money. Getting a job will come from people I know or real companies. The offerings from the temp agencies and the job lists just seem to be hoaxes that go no where. The jobs are connected to agencies, the temp agencies got nothing. I scroll through them daily, but its craigslist that I think has the tangibles. I apply and apply.

I'm also trying to figure out how to pitch stories and to whom, above mentioned friend is advising me with that.

This morning I completed my first trafficking assignment, did some yoga, then walked to the bank to deposit the golden unemployment check, return two library books that I disliked so much I couldn't finish them (VERY rare for me) and got a new one that I like all ready from just a few pages in.

I feel really relaxed and more positive than I have in a while which always feels like an unexpected gift.

Here's a few pics from my outing:


openscarf: (Default)

This morning I got up and went straight to my computer to tune into the U.S. Open Surfing Competition in Huntington Beach. My friend’s son was surfing at 8 am. He won his heat yesterday, which I missed. Unfortunately, he didn’t win today. My friend and her brothers surfed their whole lives, her brothers turned pro for a while; she married a surfer, her sons turned pro. She lives in Puerto Rico. We reconnected on FB. Her passion has not wavered.

I streamed it for hours yesterday and still have it on now, 3 hours after Dylan lost. I love watching it, the waves are small and the surfers need to do a lot of tricks to score. The small waves remind me of Florida except on certain storm influenced or miracle days.Watching surfing contests live was always festive and communal. Surf contests are interesting because the contest is scheduled and the surfers just have to accept whatever waves are there. It may be flat as a pancake during their heat. They have to make the absolute best of the tiniest swell and break. I like watching them stretch out a wave that’s dwindling, they kind of hop. Of course watching them surf firm strong waves is the coolest.

Without resorting to the surfer lingo and inflection clichés, I love listening to the commentators and the surfers talk. They’re mellow, they’re cool, they’re like fish, the water is their first choice of environment, their whole purpose is to merge with the sea.

I know at some point I’ll return to a place where there is a warm ocean very nearby.  I miss the beach. I love to walk in the alternatively crunchy or silky, cold or hot sand; to hear the ceaseless sighs of the waves, the crash as they hit the beach, the shivering tinkling sound of shells being churned up, over and over.

Today, its 58 degrees and gray; my coldest, dreariest summer ever. I’m in sweat pants, t-shirt, sweat shirt, fleece robe, Uggs and a hat. Absolutely ridiculous.

Now, back to job listings, Huffington Post, FB, LJ and every other distraction this glorious so far, net neutral world provides. Oh, and coffee.


openscarf: (meditate in forest)

 The box I lived in for almost a year has fallen to ashes and the winds have taken them away. No longer trapped by the trial ahead or the identifying taint of the assault, I look ahead, but there’s nothing there. It’s like I took my blinders off. Or, that the cocoon I lived in for a year has been shed and I’m free to fly.

 Well, that’s just scary talk. It’s as if I’m internally blinking at this thing called light that I couldn’t see for so long.

It was fine and dandy to pretend I was a writer, to make new contacts and know people were reading my stuff. But magically, I pretended and then it became so. 

It’s fantastical to be out of the nine-to-five world, out of nine-to-five clothes; no longer required to be somewhere for many hours a day. It’s a sweet jelly doughnut fantasy.

Now  I’m looking for simple temp jobs, or jobs I actually want, that have a strong emphasis on writing, social change and are possibly democratically run- with some support from a new contact or two. I’ve amped up the search; I figure the temp agencies will come through eventually, so I’m registering and calling in regularly to get in their heads. And applying to dream jobs.

I believe my box had a top and a bottom, but the sides were open, and that’s how I didn’t get stuck. I pretty much was only capable of looking just a day or two ahead-if that-and filled each day with a lot of output. Now I get paid for writing articles-- a few bucks is a few bucks. I’m a professional! Damn!

My skin no longer gets prickly,(or hasn't in a while anyway) as if I’m in a cloud of flying slender needles when anxiety begins whispering. Maybe the hot flashes canceled out that symptom. Or maybe my exhausted mind finally exhaled, like a fury and in a white hot moment the top and bottom of my box, ignited and disintegrated.

I actually am scared about (1) not finding work, or (2) finding work, and (3) running out of money. But at the same time, I feel it will all work out. For now, I’m merely tipping my hat at the fear.

I sit here at my desk, almost every day, with lots of ideas to write about for my blogs, and assignments for the news site. I’m writing all the time, as if I’m making my living here at my desk, I like to pretend I am, but, come on.

 Crazy. I have no idea what is going on. I wouldn't say I'm energetic. I have a lot of feelings and images in my head and I'm just going with them.


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