Recently in Life in general Category

I'm sitting in the Denver airport thinking about how much I hate my contacts. I really hate my contacts. My optometrist would try to sell me on a new brand every time I got my eyes checked and for a few years I was able to fend her off. This last time though, she sent me home with a sample that seemed just as good, if not better, than what I had been using for the last seven years. So I switched. They were more expensive, you change them every two weeks instead of every month, and they allow your eyes to breathe a little better, which she said was good for someone like me who has dry eyes. I thought, ok, healthy is good. Why not.

Well here's what actually happened. I spent more money on contacts that make a nice glowy cloud on anything with a light on it, I can't ever remember if I've been wearing the current pair for one week or two, and you know what happens when you add MORE air to already dry eyes? Yeah. You probably do.

I finally have a vision plan. Perhaps I should find a new optometrist a little early this year. I'll see if I can find one that's not getting kickbacks from Acuvue. I've cleared a lot of weeds out of my life over the past year that were clouding my vision--bad career choices, bad relationships. Can't I at least get a decent pair of contacts? I'm tired of only being able to see metaphorically.

(Fed up. Takes out contacts, rolls them into a ball, flicks them across airport. They're two weeks old anyway. Or three? Now think... when did I go to Napa...)

Ahhh glasses. Sometimes you have to forego good looks for clearer vision. That seems to be a theme with me lately as I start to define where I stand on a lot of things, mainly political. I can't care anymore about what other people think, I can't care about my image. I can't care if I get approval from the popular kids. I have to strive for the clearest vision at whatever cost. I have to strive for what's right, not what's pretty or acceptable. And some of my values are neither right now. And I'm finally tired of caring.

They've been bothering me, the attacks from the "popular" kids. They really have. But I'm letting go of that. Because the only people who have attacked me for what I believe are the ones who have yet to even ask me what I believe about anything. I made one comment one day and I was immediately stereotyped and personally insulted. I'm very sensitive to that kind of thing and I've been hanging onto it longer than I should. But it recently occurred to me that it wasn't the lack of approval that bothered me, it was the lack of interest. The way they acted like I wasn't even worth the effort to get to know at all, but I was definitely worth kicking around for an easy punch line. Being used like that is what really burns.

If they took the time, they would find out we have much more in common than they think. But they don't want to take the time. And that's their loss, not mine, and I have to remember that.

The point is, I'm not buying their cloudy, expensive contacts, or even their rose-colored glasses, and I'm more than ready for them to know it. I don't want to see the world the way they do, where they criticize and attack what they don't even want to understand because it gets points with their hateful friends. When you think about it, who wouldn't rather see clearly what's right in front of them than hide their eyes out of peer pressure? Unfortunately, not enough of us. So no matter how their rejection makes me feel at any given moment, I have to follow my conscience and I have to stay true to my own voice, because an artist cannot lie and still be an artist. That would make her a parrot at best, a passionless reflection of someone else's ideals. And what I want for myself in 2010 is to find out exactly what kind of artist I am and what it is I really want to say and just say it. Whatever it is, it has to be honest and it has to be brave, or else no one will listen at all. Least of all myself.

Actually I know what I want to say. I just have to figure out how to say it in a way that's not so likely to be dismissed. Because I'm really SICK of being dismissed. I can't make them stop though. I just have to be smarter, louder, and harder to ignore. One down...

This is one of those days I should have stayed home.

We were supposed to start on a new sequence last week. Layout doesn't have their work done yet so we have barely anything to set up. Set up is my job. I can't do my job. So my boss bought us another week and you know what's changed? Not much. Still can't do my job.

Last night a cold front started to move in. The wind picked up dramatically. I sneezed for 2 hours. So I took a Claritin before bed and then woke up feeling like I'd taken an entire bottle of Sudafed. Totally dried out, feverish but with no actual fever. I hadn't taken Sudafed; I save that for when I'm desperate. I'm not desperate. I've sneezed a few times today and this morning I didn't think I was going to make it to lunch without falling over dead. I'm better now but not great, and bored, so I'm writing a blog entry in my favorite text editor. It's 5pm on Friday. If I were really sick I would go home but I've had too many cokes to convince anyone I feel bad at all.

I keep bouncing back to the Web today. I try not to but I'm very ADD when I'm on a computer with nothing urgent to do. I keep going back to Fox News and CNN and seeing what's going on. Apparently today is the 40th anniversary of when the Indians took over Alcatraz for 19 months, resulting (directly or otherwise) in Nixon's halt of U.S. tribal assimilation policies. Did you know the Indians took over Alcatraz in 1969? I didn't. Probably because I wasn't alive yet, although I was alive by the time they took the last 15 off the island. I think they said something about it on the tour boat but there was a group of Russians sitting behind us singing songs at the top of their lungs. We didn't hear much coming over the speakers.

I have to wonder why CNN reported on this but not Fox News. Of course I ask the same questions about a lot of political stories that Fox reports on but not CNN. You can't rely on just one network. They don't share their personal priorities.

One thing I did read on Fox today really annoys me. There's a rep in Missouri who is trying to get a resolution passed to make next Wednesday "a day without complaining." That's right, a day where complaining about anything is not allowed. And he's a Democrat. I find that very ironic.

For one thing, I complain about Obama, Harry Reid and most especially, Nancy Pelosi. It's true. When I post my complaints on Facebook however, it's always in response to a Democrat complaining about conservatives. I feel justified in my complaints because these people are my leaders and I voted against them. It didn't work, they still won. I get to be ticked about that. I also understand complaining on the other side because this country was left in a mess by the Republicans. But I understood that complaining a lot better back when the Republicans were still in charge. They're not in office now. And yet the Democrats are still whining about it. So here comes a Democrat trying to pass a no-complaining day resolution. You think there's a loophole that says, "No complaining EXCEPT for the following topics: Sarah Palin, Bush, conservatives in general, Fox News.... because they're all WRONG and they deserve it." I wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

You guys have the power to change things now. Quit complaining about those who disagree with your ideology and get to work before that power is taken away from you again. I wouldn't mind the complaining so much if you were out there doing something about it. But many of the loudest complaints come from those who are doing nothing but surfing Facebook.

And that brings me to why this resolution REALLY annoys the crap out of me. They say the resolution itself is not even meant to be political (although how can it not be), it's about "improving human relations." There are some who believe complaining hurts relationships, kills careers, and makes for an overall bad quality of life. Well, it does occasionally ruin my Facebook experience, but it has very little control over my actual life. As with any of life's tools for coping, it's all in how you use it.

Complaining has a place in life. It allows you to let off steam. It allows you to work through your emotions about something so that you can get to a place where you can more clearly see a solution to your problems. It gets you from being the victim of a bad situation to a place where you can overcome the bad situation. The more you complain, the madder you get and the greater your resolve to change things. There's a natural pattern to life. First, bad thing happens. Then, person whom bad thing happened to reacts by complaining. Person whom bad thing happened to works through their anger and frustration at the situation, again by complaining. Then, suddenly, person whom bad thing happened to starts to see how to fix it, and they do, powered by said anger and frustration which is now fuel for the cause. Simple. All better.

The only complaining that needs to be squelched is that which feeds off itself and never leads to action. However, you can't always do something about your situation and there are some serious situations in this country right now and in people's lives. People are getting laid off, they're losing their homes, they're losing their fortunes, they're unable to pay their medical bills and stay alive. In many cases there is no course of action to take, they're already doing all they can but circumstances are out of their control. They're going through hell. And now they're not even supposed to talk about it?

The American Indians, in the 60s, were seeing their reservations closed and were being moved into urban areas. What would have happened to them if they hadn't gone to Alcatraz to draw attention to their complaints? Our country's Native American heritage would be completely lost, that's what would have happened.

Basically what this rep is telling his constituents is, "I know you're having problems, many of which my colleagues and I created. You have every right to be angry. But I don't want to hear about it. You're bothering me."

It is self-righteous and cruel to take the power of complaint away from those who are angry just to make the rest of the world a little more comfortable. When did we become a society that should never hear an unkind word, should never have to deal with real problems, should never be inconvenienced, should never lose a competition, and should never have to hear about the problems of others? How do people get help if they don't ever talk about what's wrong in their lives? Especially when they don't feel they have the power to change things alone. I complain about all the complaining being done by Democrats right now, but I wouldn't try to pass a resolution to stop it. They probably would try to pass a resolution to stop mine though. Oh wait, they are. Or at least one is.

I write a blog for a lot of reasons. The first reason is to track my progress on the path toward doing what I've always wanted to do in life. It expanded to a journal on improving my life in general, living my life for me instead of for everyone else, demanding better for myself. That second part has a lot of growing pains, and growing pains come with a lot of complaining. I have no intention of stopping. Not today, not next Wednesday, not because some idiot representative would rather draft useless resolutions than solve the economic crisis, and certainly not because someone might be uncomfortable. I will complain about what makes me unhappy until I feel better and until I see a way to fix it. That's just how I deal with things, and there's not a resolution in the world that will change my mind.

I've had two boyfriends now who can't--or just don't think they should have to--deal with anything negative. The first one was so afraid of negative emotions (particularly in women) that he would joke and change the subject every time I tried to talk seriously about anything. Because of that, my voice was never heard, nothing ever changed and we never went anywhere. Later in life when we tried to be friends, he was still so afraid of what his wife would think about us talking that he would rather not talk to me at all than tell her what he was doing. I demanded that he tell her because it was the right thing to do. He wouldn't. We are no longer talking.

The second boyfriend constantly told me how negative I was during the first few years we were together. I wouldn't even see it coming, just out of the blue when I felt perfectly content with myself and my surroundings, he would tell me I was being negative. I am not a cheerleader and never have been, but if I do not have a smile on my face or a laugh in my heart it does not mean I am not, at the very least, content. I had to ask myself though, how I would ever prove to someone I was not a negative person if he basically kept telling me how much he hated being with me. Just like the time he actually set his watch to see how long it took for me to say something "positive," he was setting me up to fail so he could appear successful by comparison. Anyone who can actually be visibly positive in an abusive situation like that deserves a medal.

And by the way, I WAS positive. I was positive he was an asshole. But I digress.

So after all that, I have a right to complain. I took action, I moved on, but there are times it still makes me mad that I ever put up with it. And every time I complain, I get a little more understanding from myself and from the people who care about me and I am able to go on. So I find a resolution against complaining very self-serving, to the point of being a complaint in itself. A hypocritical complaint about complaining. "Mommy, they won't stop complaining all the time. They're BOTHERING me. Make them stop!"

Sometimes people complain because they just want someone to understand, someone to relate to them. And when they feel like someone relates to them, they move on. There's nothing wrong with that either. I have someone in my life who does understand and that is why while I still complain about some things, I'm not the same person I was when I moved here. I'm not even the same person I was last week. And I will forever be grateful to him for that.

I have a lot to be happy about and I am. I also have a lot to be angry about and I am. You can't draft a resolution that says you don't have to take the good with the bad. You might as well draft a resolution that says, "Life forever after is hereby declared fair." As a new country, we declared the right to pursue happiness as one of our inalienable rights as human beings. We did not declare our inalienable right to receive it. That, you have to do on your own.

I'm starting to think that if you have no direction, perhaps it's best that you don't move.

I've been posting and deleting a lot lately. I'm not sure right now where I want this blog to go. Actually I know where I would like it to go but my head is not aligned with that goal lately, and neither is my free time. I'd like it to be about my job and living in California and in-progress artwork. That last one is a challenge because I'm not going to have time for that for a while. I have ideas though, and when I get them in some visible form, they'll show up here.

I had a very frustrating and stressful weekend. There was too much noise in my apartment for me to relax or concentrate. That resulted in having no recovery time from the past week. I'm hoping this coming weekend and Thanksgiving will be different. I have a lot to get done to ever meet that free-time goal and be an artist again. It's been a very long time since I've been able to do any work for myself and I'm dying to get started on some.

I've spent a lot of time and energy worrying about things I have no control over right now and stressing over regrets I probably don't need to have. I've decided this is the result of many things, but two things in particular. One is that I'm just not at home anymore. I don't miss Texas, but I miss feeling like I'm home. That comes with time, a lot of time. And it comes when you're comfortable where you live. It's hard to be comfortable in a place where you can rarely relax. And it's not just because of the noise, it's because I haven't had time to finish unpacking the apartment. There's a lot of clutter here, it's been here for three months and there's only so long I can put up with clutter. I passed that limit a long time ago, but it would take too much time away from the second job to finish it right now. I'm hoping for some time over Thanksgiving to take care of it. Until then I'm going to remain claustrophobic. Squeezed.

The second problem is work, constant work. Constant pressure to finish something that started almost a year ago, something that has a lot of holes to fill before going public. The pressure was great this past weekend because I couldn't concentrate with little Chariots of Fire running across my ceiling every five minutes. I expect a kid to run once in a while, but not for 48 hours straight. I had a parent at work today tell me yeah, sometimes it's really hard to get your kid to not run in the house. Well duh, of course it's hard. Parenthood is hard. What's your point? If it's hard you don't have to do it? It's hard to get a kid to stop doing anything you don't tell him to stop doing.

Anyway, since I can't change my circumstances right now, and since it's not like I really *have* to make a decision about where my life is going, I'm going to quit focusing on the ambiguity of my future. I'm going to sit still. I'm going to stop worrying about repeating bad decisions by not making any decisions at all, decisions that I'm obviously not ready to make. After all, I don't have to make any. I think that didn't occur to me until today. I've made it to where I wanted to go. I can stop and rest for a while. I've been trying to push myself in some direction because I've never sat still in my life. I've always been moving, working toward some goal. I've finally met a big one and I've been very anxious living with a new question that I have yet to answer: "Now what?" But maybe I don't need to answer it now, maybe it will answer itself. I have no direction. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe I can even enjoy being directionless for a while.

I've based my entire life on the belief that if something's real, it won't end no matter what happens. I guess with everything in my life that's come to a premature end, I've needed to believe that. And I've been feeling very lost lately because a lot of recent events have called that belief into question. But I found out today I was right after all. There really are real things in the world, real things in my own life. Even if they stay at a distance forever I can at least say that part of my world is right side up again.

Yep, that's me this week. Dead Girl Walking. I've worked every day and night this week. I had 40 hours in by Wednesday, not counting what I did over the weekend. I wanted to take tomorrow night off but there's one function on the web site that's giving me trouble so it doesn't look like it will happen. I have an actual deadline this time. They're going to start testing the auction part of the site on Monday, and there's a lot left to do. I also have plans on Sunday with a friend and while I know damn well I shouldn't go, I'm going. I need to get out of here and I've put him off for months. So that leaves tomorrow night and Saturday, period.

I'm really beat. I've given up on dinner this week and replaced it with cookies. I can't get in the shower at night before 1am. The apartment stinks from five-day-old dishes. If I had wanted to do nothing with my life but work, I would have gone into advertising.

I remember working hard in grad school. 12 to 16 hour days seven days a week. We at least got Christmas, and summer, somewhat... this Christmas will still be about the web site. I haven't had a vacation in three years. Grad school was easier somehow. I had stress, that's for sure, but I don't remember it ever making me nauseous for days at a time. But back then, all that was riding on my work was a grade. This time, it's an entire business. This affects far more than just me.

I'm too old for this. The day job is great but it's tiring, and too hard for me to be this stressed out after I leave at night. It's a 100mph job and it's the easiest thing I have in my life right now. It's quickly becoming the only break I get. In fact, we had a halloween-type party tonight at the bar on the other end of the floor--I think we had about 30 people crammed into that one cube (and yes there is a bar in the cube, complete with bar stools, grass skirts, inflatable palm trees, and a toilet with a hand coming out of it to welcome you at the door). There was punch that tasted like a giant pink margarita with dry ice to make it all smokey. People were throwing a roll of tp at each other. It trailed down the hallway between the cubes. Some of it landed on me so I wore it as a scarf, which came in really handy when they ordered pizza. Ross brought in a big bowl of halloween candy and we had dessert too.

I had one glass of punch and lost my ability to type. I had sobered up by the time I went home though, which was pretty much the same time I always go home. I would love to have stayed longer but I had work to do. And I wasn't happy about it since I'm already missing halloween, but if I had stayed I would have just worried myself sick about what I wasn't getting done and probably would have had to cancel Sunday, which is still a possibility. Because I know I'm not getting up early on Saturday to work. I just don't have it in me.

A lot of people will be dressing up to go to work tomorrow. I would go as the goth chick on NCIS that's always drinking slurpees, that is if I had time to put a costume together. So instead I'll wear my favorite orange shirt and leave it at that. Oh well, maybe next year.

Doesn't feel like it. In fact, this is the least birthday-like birthday I've ever had. I worked for 11 hours, had an egg salad sandwich and watched TV. But my neighbor was relatively quiet so I'm OK with it.

They do something kinda cool at DreamWorks on your birthday. You get two balloons, one blue and one white. You get a box of cookies and a card signed by Jeffrey Katzenberg. I found these at my desk when I came back from a class today. I gave away about half the cookies and brought the rest home.

I've been thinking all day, I'd almost rather be 40 than 39. There's something very final about having a 9 in your age, but a 0 makes it feel like you're starting over. I hope I remember that next year. My supervisor, Annmarie, said today that she's deeply scarred from having turned 40. She doesn't look her age either. Must be the light from the computer screen we stare at ten hours a day, freezes the aging process. It's not like any of us spend much time in the sun. Or even artificial light.

You're not imagining that the last four entries have disappeared. It's a new year. Let's just leave it at that.

This is as tense as I have ever been. It's been many years since I've lived in an apartment, since I've had people on top of my head. Tonight the people on top of my head are listening to their stereo, then watching something on their high tech home theater system in full mega bass surround sound. Most of the time the big German guy is just stomping around the apartment, or letting the three-year-old run from one room to the other like a miniature herd of elephants. Tonight I'm getting the full theater experience. Two sneakers thrown at the ceiling have had no effect except to make things worse for me, as my fear of confrontation takes over and I have this waking nightmare of a big German guy knocking on my door at 11pm. What would I say? Something tells me a friendly reminder that quiet hours are from 10pm to 7am would not go over well.

How about the fact that I've had a very long and stressful day and that I don't need to come home and listen to someone else's racket all night. This does not help me unwind. He probably wouldn't care. They usually don't.

He stomped across the apartment and back but never came down. And with that I decided my passive-aggressive reaction wasn't worth the anxiety it caused. I don't remember a time when I walked from room to room, through the living room, back to one bedroom and then across to the other with both hands running through my hair as if I would pull it out with all my fingers at once. I finally stopped in the middle of the living room and decided to sit down again, maybe write about it and see if I unraveled.

You would think a glass of wine would remedy this but as I get older, such things only keep me awake at night with a severe case of restless legs. I don't keep it in the house and I'm not up for going out. Probably couldn't get any this late anyway, even though the local grocery store carries Wild Turkey and vodka. But that's another blog entry altogether.

It's not like I've never heard this guy before. Usually it's not this bad and usually I'm not this bad. I can take a lot when I'm relaxed but that seems to have ended this week as if I'm living on nothing but Sudafed and caffeine. Work finally has work to do but they're still throwing me into so many classes I can't get anywhere. And then when I do, I go to another class that shows me that I just did everything wrong. I get five different instructions from five different people and 30 minutes later I'm back in class not even knowing where I left off. And my supervisor wants me to get to a certain point by tomorrow and I don't even know what point that is anymore.

My lead lighter is on vacation. My regular TD is on vacation too. I have a substitute who's showing me a lot but neither of us really have the time to sit down and just work on it. There are a lot of missing pieces that are the responsibility of people I've never met. They kicked off another sequence yesterday, which means I have two to set up now and I've barely started the one they gave me on Monday. I'm tense. Every muscle in my body is contracted. I spend ten hours a day at work and with all the classes I still get nothing done. And my supervisor's schedule is even worse than mine so she hasn't been able to help me at all.

One more day. There's just one more day in this week. That should be a relief but all I can think about is trying to get 20 hours of freelance work in over the weekend and still have time to do the laundry, pay bills and ride the bike. And get a new bike seat so I can ride past the bridge without coming back with a bruised butt.

The holidays are going to be weird this year. We get the week off between Christmas and New Years. I don't even remember the last time I had a paid holiday (ok, before Labor Day), let alone a week off. They're telling us to take vacation, sick days or no pay but whatever we do, don't come in that week. I don't have vacation yet so I'm thinking sick days, that is if I don't get sick first and use them up. And let me tell you I'm a prime candidate right now. I only have to save up four days because the holidays themselves are paid automatically, but people are starting to drop like flies around there. I stood next to two guys in the elevator today who have been out sick until today. I didn't breathe.

It costs about $400 to fly to OKC. I asked my dad what he wanted to do. He said, "We'll see when we get closer." How much closer? When the ticket costs $500? $600? When my only choice is to land at 4am? My mom is ready to fly me to Denver for either holiday, she just wants to know what I want to do. Holidays have always been hard for me to think only of myself. My whole life has been spent trying to make everyone happy, to see everyone in my family, to not leave anyone out. I spent Christmas at Mom's last year so it was Dad's turn this year. I'm also going to be 39 in three weeks. Why am I still playing visitation rights? I moved to California. I'm not about making everyone else happy anymore.

So I've decided: I'm skipping Thanksgiving. I need some time off. I need to not travel. I need to finish putting my apartment together and ride my bike and work on the web site without feeling like I'm cramming everything into two short days. I need the German guy to go visit some family somewhere that's not here. Germany would be good. And then I'm going to Denver for Christmas and spending the week before New Years alone. I'm about tired of being alone lately but at the same time, I know I need it to get my environment under control.

If I can get the site done by Christmas it can go up the week I'm off, which is also the week they're off, which is why they want it to go up at Christmas. I'm hoping that won't be a hard thing. Maybe I can paint something in between bug fixes. If my initials didn't spell ART I wouldn't even remember the word at all, and I have things to work out. Feelings and frustrations and grave injustices and stuff I can't control. I even have a painting in mind--something that I think would be really cool one minute and then just piss me off the next. Sounds like art to me.

I guess the movie's over upstairs. Maybe I can go to bed now. This Thursday has felt like a Monday, tomorrow damn well better feel like a Friday. I need a Friday. A real one.

I've been planning to write this entry on this night for a long time. Of course I had no idea what kind of day this would turn out to be.

First the good news. I'm keeping my word; I'm finally going to finish what I started. Dreamworks gave me a phone interview a few weeks ago and it went really well. In fact, it was the most enjoyable interview I've had so far. And yet they decided to offer the two remaining positions to the first two candidates. But the recruiter told me not to worry. "Oh, you're so in it's not even funny," she said. The verdict was that if one of the guys they offered it to turned it down, I was in now. If not, then I was in for the next round. Either way, I was in.

Turns out, one of their candidates "didn't work out." I'm in now. I'M MOVING TO CALIFORNIA. I officially start at Dreamworks as a lighting TA (technical assistant) on August 24.

I've deliberately kept this quiet for a couple of reasons. One was that I didn't want to divulge too much during the interview process, more for professional reasons than superstitious ones. The other, and most important reason, was that there are certain people in my life who deserve to hear this news from me personally, not by reading it on a blog. I wanted to make sure everyone found out the way they deserved to find out before I made it public. Today I had lunch with my friends at BWC who helped me get here by printing multiple rounds of resumes and demo reel labels. I felt I owed it to them to at least tell them in person and maybe buy some food for the poor guy who got stuck doing all the printing. And only then, I decided, would I feel comfortable putting it in the blog.

There is still a group of friends who don't know. If any of my A-Phi sisters are reading this, please keep this under your hat -- the big announcement is scheduled for camp and Heather and I have a plan. You know who you are. Pretend you didn't read this :-)

Once I got over the initial panic of extreme stress and change, I was elated. It felt right for the first time since this process started almost exactly a year ago (in fact, my offer came on Wednesday, June 17, and my last day at BWC was Wednesday, June 18 of last year). I got up this morning knowing that as soon as I told my friends at BWC, I could write the blog entry and finally put it out there. And then I read the news that Farrah Fawcett had died.

Not a surprise of course, and to be honest it wasn't something that affected me all that much. I was pretty young when Charlie's Angels was at its peak; in fact, too young to be interested. But everyone knew who Farrah was, including me. In fact, when I was in the third grade we did a play about dental hygiene, and I was assigned the part of Fred Fluoride. I didn't want to be called Fred for obvious reasons so my teacher told me that if I could come up with a girl's name that started with F, I could use that instead. I thought and I thought. For some reason, names like Felicia and Fran never came to mind. I was blank. And then suddenly it hit me: Farrah Fluoride. A star was born.

My friends and I were discussing her death in the car on the way to lunch. After Ed McMahon's death earlier in the week, and given the rule of threes, it stood to reason that Walter Cronkite would be next. Reports had recently surfaced that he was "gravely ill." It made sense.

As it turns out, we were having that conversation at almost the exact moment when Michael Jackson collapsed from cardiac arrest.

It's truly amazing that I got as much work done today as I did. I haven't watched so much media coverage since 9/11. It seems unfair that Farrah's death was almost immediately overshadowed, and then seemingly ignored for lack of shock value compared to the death of Michael Jackson. I certainly never saw it coming. And at the same time, it was entirely fitting that it took over the airwaves. My parents' generation, the Baby Boomers, had Elvis and John Lennon. My generation, Generation X, had Michael Jackson. His career was at its peak when we were just discovering music for the first time. Anyone who didn't have MTV before Thriller certainly had it afterward. There was never a time in our lives when Michael Jackson wasn't famous. And his death really upsets me. I don't particularly mourn the man he had become in the last ten years or so, but I mourn the man he was when he was at his best. I mourn the loss of the possibility, no matter how slight, that he could regain that kind of popularity and respect, create something brilliant and go out on top. He didn't, and there are no more chances. And no princes awaiting his throne. The pop music monarchy has been replaced by mediocrity, its innovation suffocated by the indifference of mass production. No one will ever touch him; no one will ever forget him.

Life goes on. In a few days the shock will wear off and the excitement will return, and I'll be at the beginning of my own brand new life. Unless of course Walter Cronkite dies.

Nebraska said no. Or maybe I should say, those nerds at Northrop Grumman in Nebraska said no.

You know what really gets me? I checked my application status every day since I applied (April 12 to be exact), and every day it said "Candidate Pool." That's the very first stage before a recruiter actually looks at your application. So the day I got my rejection, I checked and it said "Candidate Pool." Ten minutes after I checked, I got an email that said "Management has thoroughly reviewed your resume and do not believe this position is a good fit with your current skills and experience."

So does that mean that it only takes ten minutes for management to "thoroughly" review my resume, or does that mean the recruiter considers herself "management" and it only takes her ten minutes to "thoroughly" review my resume, or does it mean no one actually updates that system until they want to cross you off the list, or does it just mean like most HR departments, they're feeding me a load of crap?

Well never mind. I did have my heart set on an interview for that one. Anything with weather in it would be really interesting for me. And anything not in Texas would be well worth a try. I'm in a position to go absolutely anywhere I want and I can't even get my foot in the door.

Now get this. I applied months ago for a job in medical simulation in Denver. I never heard a word. Today they relisted the job with a few more specifics - skills I don't have - but then added a line at the bottom: "LOCAL COLORADO candidates only please. We do not offer relocation assistance for this position."

Now I ask you, what does one have to do with the other? Or more to the point, why do they automatically assume that if you don't live there, you're going to try to mooch off them to get you up there? I could get there on my own if I needed to, and I don't think it's fair to count a person out based on their current location just because you assume they're going to need money to make the move. You don't know that, so at least ask them before you interview them. If they say yes they need help, then tell them you don't offer it and let them make the decision to go forward or not.

Lazy. That's all it is. They don't want to talk to any more people than they absolutely have to. It must be nice to have a job you can take for granted like that while you hold the lives of others in your hands. But who cares if WE have a job or not, or even a timely, honest response from HR, just so long as YOUR job is secure.

I sure would like to know where I'm going in this life, while I work seven days a week with no time to myself. If I knew what was in store, or just had something to look forward to, it would make this situation a lot easier to take. But it doesn't work that way. I'm just tired and frustrated. I haven't had a weekend off since February. I haven't had a paid holiday since Memorial Day 2008. I went to bed at 10 this morning and got up at 2:30. I have PMS. This is not a good day. I only hope it turns into a good life while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.

It's been a long time since I got in bed with my laptop before going to sleep. The laptop has been sitting on my desk for months keeping track of my email while I write code on the desktop. And it will continue to do that until this project is over, but tonight I needed a little blog-time. I'm getting rather frustrated and impatient and it's time to vent.

I've been working on the auction site for a couple of months now. Luckily the go-live date for the site is on the 4th of July weekend (sucks that it's on a holiday but it's good that I have that much time). What really sucks is that I need a full time day job again and I don't have one. I need something to force me back into a normal sleep schedule. I need something that doesn't require 60+ hours a week. I need something where I'm not likely to take a pay cut to extend a schedule or ensure that I continue to have a job at all. I need cheaper health insurance and a 401k. And I need to buy a house.

Most of all, I need time to have a life again. Not having one is really weighing on me.

Pixar is coming out with its 10th movie, Up, in a few weeks. I've seen a few ads for it lately. And every time I do, I get this twinge of jealousy, anger, self-pity... that sickening feeling of not being good enough. And it makes me not want to see the movie. But even though it would be really easy to be mad at Pixar, or the industry as a whole, I'm not. It's my current situation. I'm watching what I love pass me by. I have no time to work on my own stuff and I'm not getting any younger. I feel like as soon as I take time for myself, I'm going to get behind schedule, so I don't take time for myself. It's not worth the risk. If I were working on the animation I want to do and have wanted to do for years, I would jump at the chance to see Monsters vs. Aliens or Up or whatever came down the pike. I'd kill for the extra inspiration to put into my own work. But I'm not having the life I want and therefore, seeing that life in the distance just pisses me off.

At least it's temporary. I keep having to remind myself of that, and I have to make the right choices to make sure that it's really true. I'm glad I've had this experience, that I tried doing contract work and working from home. I always wondered if I could do it. I can do it, I just don't like it. Now I know. I'm ready for a normal life again. And I think I would be happier in it than I ever have been, knowing what the other side is really like. I'm not a fan of instability and I need some sort of imposed structure. Sure, I complain about it when I have it, but I need it. That much is obvious now.

I applied for a job in Nebraska. The title is "weather visualization developer." That is SO me. It appeals to both the computer graphics programmer and the weather freak in me. And I think I would feel very comfortable in that area of the country. I'm from Oklahoma; flat land feels good to me. I want to see the tornado coming and know I can run in the opposite direction without running into some annoying mountain. I'm also a big fan of corn. Yummy.

Luckily I have a way to log in to the application system and see my status. I applied on April 12 and they haven't even looked at the application yet. But that's a government contractor for you, moving at the speed of government. Oh well. It's better than being all the way through the process and rejected. So there's still hope. Hope is good.

It's time to go to the next phase. NOW. But it's after 5am so maybe I should go to sleep first.

It's 8:30 on a Sunday morning which is a time I rarely, if ever, see. I'm working very hard these days on a rush web project that should be anything but a rush. Not to mention the fact that it was horribly underbid -- I now find myself not only working 60 hours a week but taking a pay cut so I can work 60 hours a week for another month and still keep them in budget. They're supportive, but I'm beat. Really, really beat. And now that I'm completely burned out I get to start on the hardest, most important part of the whole project. Yippee.

I have to admit though, it is nice to be able to work from home. I don't do mornings; I never have. Now I don't have to. I do my best thinking in the evenings and at night and now I can work when I'm at my most productive. When I was in school working on my thesis, I slept from 4am to noon and worked the rest of the time. I was always well-rested and productive. This project started out the same way, at least until I got really stressed out. Now I stay up until 5, 6 or even 7 because I get it into my head that I have to get to a certain point before I go to bed or I'll get off schedule again. I accomplished a lot last night on the ONE PAGE I built, but now it's 8:30 in the morning and I'm reluctant to go to bed because frankly, this has gotten way out of hand.

Maybe if I stay up I can reset a bit. I always say that and it never works. But surely I can improve on this, at least a little bit. I always say that too. I have what they called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, which means my body doesn't reset very well no matter what I do. It just wants to go to bed after midnight -- often well after midnight -- and that's that. I can stay up all night and then by 10 the next night, be wide awake as if nothing had ever happened. I REALLY hope that doesn't happen tonight, but I would be really surprised if it didn't. And even if I do go to bed at 10 or 11, I'll still want to sleep until tomorrow afternoon, because mornings are when I sleep the best no matter when I go to bed. What a lovely sleep disorder to have. Just lovely.

So the question now is, how do I stay awake until about 10pm tonight (when I will likely be wide awake again, whether I like it or not)? The answer? IKEA. Today I'm buying myself a new desk. I've wanted to do this for some time but they didn't have the right table top color in stock for weeks; now they do, and I'm going to spend my money while I still have it. I got my last full paycheck this past week and a pretty good tax refund the week before so I think I can swing it. And the assembly will keep me going for the rest of the day. Especially since I'm moving really slowly right now. I'll probably be putting my desk together until dark.

Which brings me to one other problem: I have two tables I need to get rid of. They're nice tables and I've been using them together as a desk, but the height isn't adjustable so that's why I'm switching. They're Skandia (from the Container Store) and I have the shelves to go with them, but I'm keeping the shelves. I need to get rid of the tables. I have a feeling they're going to be living in my dining room for a long time to come. If anyone actually reads this and you're interested in a table or two, contact me -- they're going cheap.

It's 8:50 now. All I have to do now is stay awake until IKEA opens at 10. I guess if I don't, at least I'll save about $300.