Thursday, July 24, 2003

This week's Friday Five was a little too difficult find answers for, so I'm just going to chuck it. It talked about what would your life's movie be called, what would the soundtrack include, who would play me, etc.

I just can't answer that. Today's movie might be called: Unemployed and Hating It. Tuesday's could have been called A Day at the Fair. Another day might be A Child Rules the House, and still another could be Growing Older and Wiser: The Life of a Married Couple in Love. My life cannot be summed up into one movie or music soundtrack.

Even today, I've had my ups and downs. While this morning we went out for a good breakfast and marveled at Boogie's enthusiastic displays in the pool, this afternoon I really felt my spirits spiraling downward. It's been a month since I had that second interview and I never heard from them. Obviously someone else got the job (but don't you think they could have at least told me? A simple e-mail, a letter in the mail, a carrier pigeon for God's sake!). And while I have a couple more leads out there that seem promising, the silent phone (or worse yet, the rings that I rush to answer, only to be bombarded with sales pitches about lower phone bills or the latest home business) is just so frustrating.

I know it takes time for companies to sort through resumes, but each day that goes by really does chip away at my self esteem. Why is it so difficult to get someone to notice me and give me a chance? It's been 10 months since I was initially laid off (I did have a contract job for 5 months after that, so technically it's only been 4 months, but I was sending out resumes even then). And while I haven't applied for jobs that I really don't want (where I'd commute for 3 hours, or start over in an entry level position), I'm not reaching for the moon either. I'd happily take a pay cut for a challenging and rewarding job.

I thought about blogging about my really low mood this afternoon, but then I went to work out. I had a free session with a personal trainer. And while she started out by telling me that I needed to lose weight, she ended up being really supportive and was impressed with my stamina, strength and flexibility.

After sweating for an hour, I came home feeling much better than when I left. I had a good dinner with my husband and watched the Amazing Race (I really hope the gay couple wins). And I just keep telling myself to just hang in there ... at least for the next six weeks (if not, then I'm going to hunt that psychic down and expose her as a fraud ... I used to work in PR and marketing ... I can do it!).

And I'll just keep chanting in my head the almost forgotten words of Stuart Smalley: I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and doggone it, people like me!

Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Ah, the fair! The corn dogs, the funnel cakes, the cotton candy, the ice cream sundaes. The smells of barbeque pork, cinnamon buns, and fried anything (which this year included zucchini, twinkies and oreos!). The smell of the barn, with lots of baby sheep, goats and pigs. The sounds of people screaming on the rides. The lights. The banter of those working the games: "Come on miss, play my game; if you miss, I still give you a prize."

Little Boogie took in all of it tonight, accompanied by her mommy and daddy, her grandma and grandpa and her aunt. And while she stayed out well past her bedtime, she still came home with a huge grin on her face, hugging the Elmo doll that I won for her (in fact, she's sleeping with it right now).

She loved watching the cows and smiled in delight whenever they mooed (what is the past tense of moo?). We couldn't pull her away from the baby pigs in the petting zoo. She just knelt down beside them and played with their ears. She played with the coarse sawdust on the floor of the barn (now I know what hamsters must feel like).

She ate everything in sight, saying "Moh, moh, moh" (for those without kids, that's more, more, more). She danced to the sounds of the blues band playing. She sat awestruck at the multitude of lights on the rides. While she's still too young to really participate in the pony rides, the ferris wheel or the even the monorail, I think she had a great time.

Me, my feet hurt a little, my stomach is full of too much bad food, my wallet is empty (it's amazing how expensive these things can be) and I'm ready to go to bed. I did go to the same palm reader that I went to last year to see what she'd say. (Last year, she said that something big was going to happen with my job in late August, and that a woman with blond hair was going to take what I had. She said that it would be something that I wouldn't ask for, but that would bring me money. I ended up being laid off on September 1 (close enough) by my new boss who happened to be blond, and who had been hired with a very similar title to mine while I was on maternity leave. I got a pretty nice severance check out of it though). This year she said I'd been going through a rough time, but that would end in 6 weeks. I'm assuming that means I'll get a job by then (hopefully). The weird thing is last year she said I would have three children, two of them twins. This year, she said the same exact thing. And she said the same thing about my husband. Basically that he's a good man. But the weird part is she used the very same words about him as she did last year. I know she doesn't say the same things to everyone because my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law compared notes. I don't know how real these things are, but some of the stuff seems pretty accurate. I'll know for sure if I end up having twins in the future.

I can still smell remnants of the fair on my clothes: part grease, part hay, part sugary sweetness. I wonder if there's a market for that kind of cologne.

Monday, July 21, 2003

I knew when he called instead of her that it was bad news. She would have delivered the news if it was good.

She lost the baby. The baby they had tried so hard to have. The baby we celebrated a few weeks ago at dinner. The baby that in its first 8 weeks of life received as much love as my own little girl.

I just don't understand it. They so desparately want this to happen. After all the tests confirmed that they couldn't have children the traditional way, they chose in vitro, and all of the pain and frustration of shots, medication and the waiting. And we thought they'd beaten the odds. She was on bed rest for a while, didn't over exert herself, stayed true to her medication and shots, and got word that she was pregnant. For a few weeks at least.

"How am I supposed to deal with the people who ask 'What are you guys waiting for?'," she asked me. "How can I tell them that I lost my baby?" And people do ask. But it's none of their business. So far she's been able to say, "Oh, my husband and I just wanted to travel and see the world before we had a family." But what she really thinks inside is, "I'd give anything in the world to have a family right now."

And I feel guilty about how easy it was for me. I mean, the first time we tried, we conceived little Boogie. Why was it easier for me and so hard for them? They are such good people. Just seeing the joy in their faces when they found out they were pregnant was so wonderful.

I know I'm not supposed to question God's plan. I know there must be a reason for this to have happened. But for the life of me I can't see it. What's the big lesson to be learned in all of this?

They can try again in September if she's ready. And I hope she is. I have to believe that the next time will be successful. Until then, I just want to be there for her in any way possible. She's always been the strong one in her family. The one who deals with all the family dramas and issues. But now she deserves the time to cry, scream, rage and mourn. She's not sure if she's strong enough to get through this. I know she is.

I just wish I could do something to ease her pain. The only thing I know to do is to listen, offer words of encouragement and tell her how much I love her. I just hope that's enough.

Sunday, July 20, 2003

Last night my husband and I sat out on the back patio, with citronella candles lit on the table, enjoying a couple of cold beers. We were winding down after a long day (a friend's wedding and then some after-wedding socializing at his parents' house). We just sat talking about the day, enjoying the warm night air.

Unfortunately, an old friend, who really enjoys chatting, called. While my husband talked about what was going on in our lives, I just leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I felt his bare foot gently touch mine, I looked up and he winked and smiled. And it brought back such great memories (I had plenty of time to reminisce in my head since he was on the phone for over an hour).

Weirdly enough, the touch of his foot reminded me of when we first started dating. When the slightest brush of his hand would start the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I remember going out to happy hour after work, laughing with our co-workers and feeling his knee bump against mine under the table, our own secret language. I remember a night when he invited some friends over for dinner, and while the girls sat out on the porch smoking cigars and drinking beer, the guys hung out in the kitchen, cooking potatoes and marinating steak. My husband and I would sneak peeks across the distance of the porch to the kitchen, and we'd give each other a wink and a smile, quickly of course because we had to hide our attraction (see Friday's blog).

I was then reminded of all the times I looked forward to his calls or e-mails when we dated long distance. For one year, we had a bi-coastal relationship (me in Florida, he in California), and those late night and early morning calls, just to wish each other a good night or good morning were what helped us sustain our feelings during the lonely times. I even saved all of his e-mails and then on Valentine's Day, when he came to Florida to visit, I presented him with a little book of all of our messages.

I think I just needed a reminder of how great we are together. These past several months have been really tough with both of us out of work. Money, surprisingly, isn't so much of an issue. It's the amount of time we spend together. I really don't think God intended for man and wife to spend so much time together. That's why one or both people in a marriage usually work outside of the home. We just get in each other's way. And while we definitely love each other, seeing someone all day long doesn't leave much room for conversation. "So what did you do today, honey?" "I went to the park with you, remember?" "Oh, yeah."

So now I have all of these comforting memories to see us through this rough patch. And now I'm going to go to bed and tell my husband how much I love him.