Oh Boy.

I'm job hunting, again. A very common theme here.  Unlike before I don't need a new job, I want a different job.  You would think with a resume that lists nearly everything under the sun it wouldn't be a problem finding something different, but that is the exact problem. I want something DIFFERENT.  Not different as in that is a job you never imagined existed, or you have never met anyone who has done that, but a job different from what I've done in the past.

I want a job where I go to work, have my own workspace, start with the same task every morning, proceed through my to-do list, produce tangible results, smile at people, offer assistance, gain feedback and get paid.  I would like to work from morning to late afternoon. I would like a regular lunch break, a desk free of clutter, a chair with a back, adjusted to an ergonomically correct height, and baskets and cabinets where things are put away neatly at the end of every day.

As I work at my current j.o.b. I think about potential employers. In the past I've taken jobs and found out within a month that my employers are not the most, shall we say, savory people.  Oh, they looked good on paper, the pay and incentives may have been attractive, but the unspecified details that arose didn't just raise tardy red flags, they sent up emergency flares in to my mind's sky.  Unfortunately at that point I had commited to the positions physically (relocated) or contractually or because I was without a fallback plan.

I need standards.  Working in or near my hometown will give me the benefit of knowing someone that knows the potential employer's reputation.  My pops, he can't walk down the street, into a church or restaurant, without running into an aquaintance.  My extended family is enormous (though I don't mention relations because not all are viewed favorably) and their opinions can provide some insight (i.e. if so and so likes it, avoid it like the plague).  The friends I maintained since high school? They have a large group of successful friends. Network! I must.

As I go about my day I make mental lists, take notes, consider my options. I'll need a new resume. Something that presents me and what I have to offer better.  I make mental lists of adjectives to incorporate.
Meticulous. Dedicated. Creative. Efficient. Organized.

Then I get home, look at the space where I live and realize that I need my attractive attributes to carry over into my personal life.  I know what I stumble over every day: failing to be asleep by my assigned times (8 am for me is midnight after a FULL day for most of the rest of the world - but here I am blogging); running on the days I'm scheduled to; eating balanced meals at regular intervals. I've tackled this issue, I'm working with solutions to overcome the major stumbling blocks.

Next up is the need for physical organization. I've always surrounded myself with controlled chaos.  I'm capable of ignoring 95% of the distractions around me to be able to focus on the task at hand.  But I'm drawn to, crave and revel in cleanliness, simplicity, order and functional design. I've got a knack for looking at a room and rearranging it for better functional use.  I can prioritize the needs and analyze the potential of a space for real solutions. I can identify what is missing and what is superfluous and sell the stong points of my changes.

What do I love? I should, at this point, move forward in a direction I love. What do I love?

I'm a Princess!

There, I said it. Here is the proof:

I have things to say...

I'm just preoccupied. The to do list is pulling at me. I feel guilty if I'm not working on something. TV? I feel bad about myself for watching it. Books? Take to much time. Time with friends? There must be something I'm neglecting in order to have fun.

Where does this guilt come from. It's the same feeling I felt when I was job hunting or in school procrastinating on homework. It feels like I could be doing a better job at living life. Fail. I fail.

I went to the B&G Club yesterday to see about volunteering. I'm hesitant. A commitment. I don't feel ready to make any kind of commitment. Should I? Good people volunteer. If I don't am I a bad person?

I'm ready to admit defeat. I cried today because I slept through my alarm & missed a hair appointment. My sister was okay with it, just worried. I haven't done that in weeks (months?).

I'm starting to look for a new job, where I might get paid enough to get myself out of this hole I'm in. Day job means no more substitute teaching. Can I suffer through the nights in order to keep doing that? Is it worth it?  I could keep a couple nights part time until things are square, but at what cost to my dreams.

What do I dream about any more?

I don't know.

A Love Song

I'm single.  Probably for good reason. I don't like words like quirky, unique, odd duck, weird, etc. They are all just labels, like marching to the beat of a different drummer is another cliche.  I've dated, had a fair share of relationships, but approaching 29 in less than a month, I'm single.  It's as though the pressure is on.

 I've got 2 options as I see it.  I can throw myself at the first man who will take me, or I can live my life. Tough choice, right?

Don't let this attitude of mine lead you to believe I have no notion of what I want hope for in a perfect happy relationship.  From past experience I know it takes compromise.  I know it takes enthusiasm (ever been with someone who stopped being excited about being with you? Mega bummer, right?)  I know everything doesn't have to be match-y match-y.  Similar interests are good, so is having your own gig.  Trust, trust is important, right? Respect too. 

I think deep down, way deep in me there is an ideal I hold.  I think I don't dwell on that ideal for a reason; if I focused on the ideal I would be so focused on a POTENTIAL'S flaws I wouldn't appreciate the fantastic attributes they might hold. Whoa there, I'm not saying I (or anyone) should overlook the MAJOR flaws, like throwing objects in anger & thinking your actions are a justifiable way to manage anger.  (Really?  Getting rid of your breakable objects doesn't solve that issue.) 

I could list a thousand things I'm hoping for and never accurately describe my dream guy.  Or I could just say I'm still looking for the man who complements me, and I him.  Keep it simple, right?  Yeah, that's what I thought.

Once In A Blue Moon -K.Bosch

(photo of unfinished version - finished piece belongs to

Raise Your Glass Winebar in Roseburg, OR)

My Head, It's Still Attached, Right?

I had an amazing weekend.  I don't think I did a single thing I intended to. Friday night I didn't go out after work, but I really wanted to. I received a voicemail that my friends had seen *and stalked mildly* the man I have a major crush on, so I hustled to be able to meet them only to realize I received the message two hours after they sent it.  I then apologized for calling them at 1 AM. What?
Saturday things turned around after the cats decided the litter box was a good place for turf wars, to be followed up by knocking down shelving over the work desk. Good times.
I cleaned up the first mess & walked away from the second. It was too much. I closed the door so the offending critters couldn't walk through the glass & left. For seven hours.
Yeah, I had to clean the mess up when I came home, but right then, I had the choice to walk away so I didn't continue to over-react to what turned out to be a mild catastrophe, not the major disaster I thought it was.  Future parenting strategy? I think so.
Dear World, I got to play disc golf for the first time in a year, on a beautiful course that's only going to get better with time.  Followed by dinner and a trip to the beach.  Did I mention Round Barn Brewery Summer Wheat was on tap at dinner? Are you catching on to the fact all of this together was enough to erase the poop & hurricane at home? 
Sunday ended up equally fantastic with church, a nice noon meal with my parents (I was able to treat them for once!) and more disc golf and beach time.
It's been difficult to move back.  There's so much I want to do, so many things I want to accomplish, even more I want to experience. My friends from high school, they've moved on, made more friends, friends they're kind enough to share.  It's uncomfortable because I'm the 3rd (or 5th, or 7th, or good grief, the 9th) wheel.  I have to suck it up. I told my friend Steven Joseph I wasn't going to appear in any more group photos until I had a date equally or more attractive than myself.  Not hard.  The equal or more part.  If you follow me on twitter you know I can't get a decent date to save my life.
Moving on. This weekend. It was fantastic.  Pops said I had needed it.  I did.  It helped. Because today I got out of bed & got shit done.  All day.  Baked muffins, vacuumed after Hell's Cousins, delivered muffins, picked up supplies, got a new necklace, and earrings, and was able to replace my aviators, and get some grocery shopping done.  After lunch (I know, right?) I worked on my photogram kits, and sat down to write for an hour. Now, off to work. Tomorrow morning, after work, I'll run. 
I maybe could have done this all over the weekend, but it would have been a struggle. I needed to be recharged, to let go, to relax.  Today, I was (am?) my super-self.  Tomorrow, I could possibly do it again.
No, I wasn't able to get out out more than a couple words when I saw that gorgeous man, I didn't remember everything on my list, and I ran out of some supplies, but so what?  Tomorrow, I get to try again.

You Hate Me

It's okay, sometimes I hate myself too. Usually it's right about the time I open my mouth. OOOOOOOOOoooo. I hate opening my mouth. It's my fear of the awkward silence that provokes me to tell myself "just one sentence won't hurt."  Then I need to follow up with an explanatory sentence so you understand what I'm trying to say.

No really, tell me anything. Tell me how you believe your life sucks, how you were, what you want to do, what you wish was different, how you want to be different.
I can't help it, I'm going to say:

Really? Why do you say that?
What changed?
Why don't you? What's holding you back?
I think you can make it happen.  What steps do you need to take to achieve that?
Well what do you think your qualities are? Use those to highlight yourself.

Then we end up chatting for 45 minutes.  I listen.  I'm your own personal F*R*I*C*K*E*N cheerleader.  Because I can't help but love you.  Really.  Because deep down, life is so good.  It can be.  Because happiness is a choice.  Even if that choice is taking a pill to be able to see the good and let go of the not good.  Life is a choice to wake up everyday and brew your cup of coffee and stride confidently into the world knowing your fly is zipped. 

Me?  I wake up everyday with a plan.  Some days I put that plan into action. Other days I shelve it or scrap it completely.  That's my prerogative.  At least once a week I love to run around without pants on.  Sounds delightful doesn't it?  Today, in 4 hours, I'm going to wake up, clean my studio, make myself pretty, go hit on the shopkeeper, then go to the library and borrow Walden, head to the beach with thermos of wine, and turn my back on the rest of the world.  Or I won't. 

I have to make the choice everyday to enjoy life.  Or else I would waste my energy on being miserable.  That's a party no one wants to go to.  So I can't help it when you dangle that worm of misery in front of me.  I bite.  Because deep down in my heart I want to reach out to you, hoping you'll catch on to my little secret.

Life is so good.

I'm a huge sports fan, can you tell?

When I think about pro basketball I think about the millions of people who pay money to watch these incredible athletes. Would these people complain if an extra $5 or $10 was tacked on to their ticket prices to go directly to schools?


Think about it, some pro basketball players earn enough to support a small school district.

Think about all the teachers you know, searching for jobs, or paying for school supplies out of their own paychecks.

Think about how some of these pro basketball players only "shot in life" was to become a pro basketball player because their socio-economic status placed them in a school with a high student to teacher ratio, with outdated books, if there was books at all.

Think about all their classmates who didn't make it.

Think about what that extra $5 or $10 tacked on the price of a ticket could do if it went to a struggling school district.

Oh, My MOD!

Almost every night since I've started working on Life List #5 and #13 and #14 by default I've texted messaged my sister for motivation.

Tell me how good your run felt tonight.

It was amazing the drop in temps really helped. 

I'm craving a cheeseburger.

A ff cb isn't worth it. 

Tell me it's worth it. (the running, not the cheeseburger)

While you're doing it, think about your muscles, how they are changing.  Think about the clothes you want to wear.

That last bit of advice through me for a loop. I wear what I want now, right?
Oh but I don't. I realized it when I saw the nearly ever present link on Facebook to ModCloth. Seriously? Motivation. Hello.