Jobless in Nashville

I really, really need a job. Although it's fun to sit on the edge of my chair, foot prancing wildly, while spending hours in coffee shops searching through employment ads for something I am qualified for... I've had enough of it. I want a job. I want the security of having a known income. I want to remember what it is like to have funds going IN the bank, not just coming OUT. 

Is this really too much to ask? I don't think so. Know what would help? Responses of some kind from places that post job ads. At least an automatic reply that the message was received and you will be notified by X date if you make it to the next level, otherwise thank you for your time, have a good life. It's the sending of resume after resume into the voids of cyberspace and hearing NOTHING back that is draining my dry. Or... maybe that's the nervous twitch from too much caffeine.

Seriously though... anyone know anyone looking to hire someone with experience in office/program management, public speaking, creative and performing arts, nonprofit business, crisis advocacy, event planning or professional organizing??? I'm getting a wee bit nervous as I watch those numbers in the bank that represent my livelihood dwindle. Anyone?

Really? Hrumph!

Seriously? The ONE thing I wanted to do today was spend some nice, quiet time at the pool. Lay out, get some sun, cool off in the water. I'm having a shit day after a shit yesterday and it was what I told myself I could do for self care. I don't like laying out in the summer heat without access to a pool - I overheat. I also feel awkward laying out on my balcony with folks coming and going below. 

I got all greased up AT the pool. It was quiet... private pool in the mornings as most folks are at work and kids are in camps. Until this one person comes out... then next thing I know... management is out there. Apparently the pool got trashed on Tuesday night and they are shock cleaning it, whatever that means. I wasn't even allowed to just lay out there... pool closed, fine, but why can't I sit out on the deck?? It's a private place. It's closed a week. Bullshit. It was open Tuesday (she had originally said Sunday) and it's opening tomorrow. 

I'm... pissed off and frustrated. Okay, so something happened. 1) Get your story straight. 2) Put up a fucking sign. 3) Why the hell can't the DECK stay open despite closed pool? I'm 25 fucking years old, I think I can stay out of the water. 4) Put up a fucking sign. 5) Don't apologize when you don't mean it. 

So much for my goal of making this a better day. I don't ask for much (do I?) and that was all I wanted. Fuck it. Just... fuck it. Now I'm all greasy too and need another shower. Fuck this. JUst.... fuck it. Know what else is annoying??? I'm so angry I'm in tears. I HATE that. I never look mad with tears streaming down my face... what is UP with that?

Seriously?!?!

I mean... seriously?!?!? I have spent the greater part of the last few weeks CLEANING my apartment to rid it of glitter. I found glitter in places it should never be... like the crease of the toilet and in the cat's litter box. But tonight takes the cake. Somehow... the offensive substance that coated my body during Faire... made its way INTO the gel part of my brush. Not just on the outside. Not just in the bristles. Not just on the handle. But INSIDE the brush. This unnerves me. How did it get there? What else gets in there? Where else is the glitter lurking?

I thought it was bad when I caught a fleck in my ice cube tray (and therefore ice). I thought finding it in the cat's fur was sad. How it got in my glovebox of the car, I don't know. How it managed to stay in the pocket of those jeans despite being washed TWICE since then... but INSIDE the gel handle of the brush? That just... takes the cake. 

I'm a crafter and an artist type. Despite that and my love of all things creative, NO MORE GLITTER!

Artsy Fartsy - June Art Shows

We all talk about chasing our dreams, hoping that we get further than our beloved pets when they run in circles chasing their tails. Now, Raven comes close and Naia frequently DOES catch her tail... but I've gotten one step closer than that. After months and months of submitting to everything I can find on Craigslist, reading MetroMix and the Nashville Scene, and hanging out at all the local coffee shops, picking up all those little flier thingies... I've landed myself a few art shows!

On Saturday, June 13th, I will have space at the Billups! Art Event in East Nashville. Specifically, it's at 1008c Woodmont Street. I strongly encourage you to attend! The show is from 11-8pm... East Nashville is a fantastic part of town... great community, lots of artsy fartsy types. Like me. I hope to have some of my acrylics and photography up.

On Monday, June 15th I load in at Elena's Cafe in Brentwood, located near the Franklin Rd Borders and Kroger. I'll have about 20 pieces of photography available for sale, as well as the debut of my "Masquerade" collection of masks. These will be for sale as well... but the neatest part will be attending to see the different masks together. The cafe is fantastic, home of the best Bubble Tea in Nashville, and a great ethnic assortment. The owner is fabulous - he is allowing artists to hang their work for 30 days in his space FREE of charge, not even commission! So please help me help him... go have lunch or dinner there one day... look at my art... and thank him for letting local artists show their work in his space. 

Maybe art itself isn't your thing? What about theatre? 

The Post Depression Theatre opens its second round of "A Sketchy Evening" on June 26th and 27th - 7:30pm shows with a suggested donation of $5. Located in 5-Points... right by the BP on the intersection of Woodmont and N 11th Street. It's the purple building with the funky people painted on the side, with the painted sign "Post Depression Theatre" being a dead give-away. I'm in 3 of the 8 sketches... and wrote one of them. So come on by and check it out! Bring your own lawn chair if you like... seating inside is limited... so having a comfy one of your own guarantees you a space.

All this to say... I've been very, very busy. Spending lots of time in my home studio these days... getting work ready for the two art shows. Let's keep our fingers and toes crossed that I sell something... I need to start paying off the overhead cost and, maybe, my bills? 

Holes in the Wall, not the Head

On Monday, June 15th I will be loading in about 20-25 pieces of photography and about 10 masks to Elena's Cafe in Brentwood, just off Franklin Rd, near the Borders and Kroger. It's a great little cafe in the heart of Brentwood area... making the best bubble tea I've ever had in my life. Even better than the little asian market that I lived above in Potsdam. The owner is amazing and has a friend who is an artist - she volunteers her time to help him have new art on his walls - at (get this!!!) no charge to the artist!!! 

I spent a large chunk of these last few days going through my digital photography and selecting pieces to display. I got them developed yesterday and picked up frames today... spent the evening playing with various arrangements of matting... and think I've got them just as I like them (for now). I need to find mats for 11 x 14 prints... will try the art store tomorrow to see if they have more custom-sized matting. 

So... aside from the sheer incredibleness of having my very own art gig... just my art... no one else in there... in a nice part of town... I'm also riding high on the whole picture. See, art is one of those things that I was always told I couldn't do. I wasn't as good as the other kids in middle school, and I wasn't encouraged to break outside that black-and-white box. I started apologizing for my attempts at art... I would beat people to the punch by telling them that even my stick figures needed help. I doubted myself, I doubted my abilities and I was embarrassed to be less than perfect. Until my senior year at Vanderbilt when I started drawing faeries. Until I looked at my pictures one day and realized I had some natural talent here. Until I picked up a paintbrush this past January and discovered I could paint.

Art is my liberation flag. It is the one thing that tapped into my true self despite relapsing into anorexia and struggling to get by in day to day life. It is the one common thread that ties together so much of my life. It is an expression of the soul in various mediums, textured by emotion. It is my catalyst into recovery and a life that I only half-lived for almost eleven years. 

I came to Tennessee expecting a short-term stay... expecting to leave in the summer to pursue my doctorate. Life had other plans. Honestly? I couldn't be happier! I finished my project this evening and hung up the many pieces of photography that laid sprawled on the floor. When you have two cats, it is not safe to leave precious materials (or anything you don't want stepped on, sat upon or chewed on) on the floor. My home is now like the canvases I use to paint... it is a work in progress. Some of the holes hold finished products. Some contain half a thought. Some contain the sheer outline on an idea. But everything is hanging. Why wait until it is done to showcase the effort? Life doesn't wait for the final stroked are completed... why should I? 

This peace that has come over me lately... it is grounded in all of this. I am slowly applying my artistic impulses to daily life. There is so much more to life than the slight bit I'd allowed myself to taste while trapped in my own mental muck. For the first time I can remember, I feel truly free. 

Half-Tipsy Thoughts

As the title says... there may or may not be a bit of alcohol in my veins. It comes in the form of Mike's Hard Raspberry-Lemonade. That stuff is AMAZING. It comes in peace. It comes from the back corner of my fridge that I didn't know was there until scavenging for something tonight... found the cookie dough I was looking for AND the lemonade. That's ALMOST a fruit, right? :P

So... random movie advice. The Producers? Really not that good of a musical or movie. I wasn't impressed. I'd heard good things, I know it recently came to TPAC... but honestly? I was bored. I almost fell asleep and when the thunderstorm came through last night, I found myself MUCH more entertained by the lights and sound of Nature than of the idiots dancing around on screen. So that was a major let down. Wanted though... THAT is a good movie. Angelina Jolie did well... as did Morgan Freeman and the lead dude playing Wesley. 

What is it with naming characters Wesley? The best all time Wesley has to be from The Princess Bride, you know, Mr. As You Wish, aka Dred Pirate Roberts. He doesn't believe in ROUS's though... despite the rather large toothy scar on his body after making that comment in the swamp pips. Pits too. Mr. Mostly Dead that got revived by the best witch doctor in Hollywood.

Then you've got Wesley from Buffy... you know... the prison-bait going after Cordy in Season 3? I mean sure, he was cute and all... but why settle for the young Brit when you've got the gloriously glamorous undead to date? Sure, they can take you out in the daylight and you don't have to worry about those nasty forehead wrinkles... but seriously? NOT a comparison! 

Kung Fu Panda was a fantastic movie though... too bad it got rained out of the Park last night. That would be neat to see on full screen. Though I wouldn't want to be in the Park when all the kids start trying those moves. Some things just aren't meant to be. That, and I don't really like fighting for parking at those park movie things... 

So those are my random half-tipsy thoughts of the night. Sponsored by Mike's and a really, really good day. Yup, I've had several good days in a row, almost 2 weeks of them in fact. That's fantastic! It's punctuated by a rather disgusting experience with Mr Asshat Producer Dude who tried to get me to prostitute myself for a role... but you know what? I appreciate his slimeball efforts. He gave me anger and voice and an uncontrollable urge to walk around with my third finger protruded in an erect fashion. That's the only erect ANYTHING this shitster warrants. Oh, he also wanted me to lose weight... fuck you Mr A.P.D. You picked the wrong chica to mess with... maybe read the resume next time, or have someone explain to you what "advocate" means - because pulling that crap on someone who has worked for FIVE YEARS with women and teaching them about the power they have over their own bodies? Yeah, that's a no win situation for you. 

Hmmm. I might still be mad. I'm okay with that. It fuels a lot of things... including my celebrating tonight of a kick-ass day after a kick-ass week, with a kick-ass movie (that would be Wanted). So thank you Mr A.P.D for helping me kick ass... not quite the piece of ass you had in mind... but something MUCH more agreeable with my moralities and conscience. Maybe avoid the feminists next time you try that crud... or the only thing kick ass about YOU would be the foot up your ass kicking you out the door.

Hmmm. I'm feisty. Time for bed. Alcohol makes me sleepy. 

Woes of a Pineapple

Lesson of the week... it is never "that simple" to get a pineapple. At least, not when you're me. First, you've got to go to Trader Joe's to pick it up. It is cheaper there, and a healthier impulse buy. You then leave the parking lot and find yourself unable to get BEHIND the building to where your car is parked... so the nice guy on his smoke break that works at the Smoke Shop next door takes you through the store and out the back door. 

Now, you have to sit in rush hour traffic all the way home, eating the pack of raspberries that you bought (they were sitting next to the pineapple) on sale. You finally arrive at home, way too tired to do ANYTHING with the pineapple other than stick it in the fridge. You then work your ass off Thursday-Tuesday... until you remember it is there Wednesday morning.

At this point, you stand at the fridge wanting the pineapple but way too tired and lazy to bother slicing it up. Close fridge. Open fridge. Think about pineapple slices. Grilled pineapple. You check to see if your Foreman works and ponder the meaning of low-fat bbq sauce... then decide you'll wait on the pineapple another day.

You finally chop up pineapple - YUMMY! You read all the directions on it (which are rather extensive for a piece of fruit) and have at it. Miracle #1 - you did not injure yourself on the pineapple cutting process! You recall your list of things that do NOT go down the garbage disposal and slice up the rinds enough to cause no issues. MMMmmm smells like sweet pineapple now.

You leave to sit by the pool on this overcast day... sunshine is a necessity, especially in working up a pineapple-based appetite. You return home, wash your hands before having some of your favorite fruit... only to find the water doesn't drain in the sink. You turn on the disposal and it just backs up further... now having blended with those used coffee grounds from earlier in the day. Yuck. Turn off disposal and slowly let water drain. Stair at it inquisitively for a few minutes, waiting for the Disposal Deities to fill you in on their joke. No such luck.

You take fork and stir it around... nothing seems clogged. REMOVE FORK and try again. JUMP! This time the water splashes back OUT of the drain and right onto your shirt... narrowly missing your phone and laptop and other electronics placed inappropriately near the kitchen sink. You shut off the disposal real quick... move electronics... and try again. Maybe it was a fluke? Nope, Drenching #2. So you back away and try again... enter Drenching #3-5. At least the sink isn't clogged...

After several more moments of staring at the drain... you give up and call maintenance. Of course, it's 1:30pm and no one was at your apartment office... so you left a message. They are notoriously AWFUL at getting messages... so you are stuck with a pissed off garbage disposal, temperamental kitchen sink and a soggy t-shirt. You resign yourself to call again at 2:00... hoping someone answers the phone this time. 

And after all that? You're not sure you even still WANT the pineapple. Oh wait, who am I kidding, of COURSE you want the pineapple. It's just that good.

You Know You're Tired When...

You know you haven't gotten enough sleep and are way WAY too tired when...

- you make coffee, only to realize you put the grounds where the water goes and the water where the grounds go.

- you mistake your black cat for a pair of shoes and jump 10 feet when the shoes move.

- you can't seem to figure out how to make your screen door open... something about a locking mechanism gets lost in exhaustion.

- you hear a car "beep" and wonder how much insurance you'll get if your car is stolen.

- you hear a second "beep" and thank the person for locking your car again.

- you attempt to throw out your clothes and put the trash in the washing machine. 

- you cannot run your errands yet because nothing will be open for several more hours.

- you stare into the mirror, confused... then pout because the dark circles are NOT going away with face wash. 

- your ability to spell has remained in bed while your body attempts to respond to emails and Facebook messages.

- you actually take those Facebook quizzes.

I'm sure there are more... but it's a good start to summarize my day.

Blessed Be Bast

So... I've been sobbing all morning with frustration. I finally started cleaning up some around here... and lit my altar candle for the Goddess, saying a prayer to Bast to please please please watch over my Naia. To keep her safe and let her know that she is loved, no matter where she is. That her mother is searching for her and misses her and is SO so so sorry for ever letting her out of her site. 

Literally, as I was putting the lighter down, my phone starts to ring. It's the Lady in my previous ramble... at the store. She thought we'd made arrangements for me to pick up Naia late this afternoon. No... that was tentative, we were to check in and see when I could get her, having a friend pick her up if possible earlier so my child wouldn't be all alone in a cage somewhere. Apparently that last bit got lost in translation. I'm frustrated that somehow this is painted to be my fault... but I'm RELIEVED to know my  child is okay. Her contact is picking her up from the vet and driving her up to Nashville. I'll get her where Lady is in Nashville around 5ish this afternoon. I'll have my baby back. FINALLY. 

Blessed Be to Bast... thank you kind Goddess for watching over my child, and for helping me find her today. Please stay with Naia a little bit longer, hold her in your warm, loving heart until I can wrap her safely in my arms tonight. Please give her safe passage from the vet to Nashville, and then from Nashville to my apartment, her home. Please give Raven patience and tolerance to welcome back the baby despite smelling like vet... and may we all sleep soundly tonight, our little family reunited at last. Thank you, and Blessed Be.

Furiously Frustrated

Seriously?!?!? What the fucking hell? I am so angry and frustrated that I've been reduced to random fits of tears flowing heatedly from my eyes, smearing their salty way down my cheeks before splashing off my face, landing on my clothing, computer or cat (Raven). I hate this. I hate it so much. I hate not having ANY ability to change the current situation... and I am FURIOUSLY FRUSTRATED that I'm even IN this situation!!!

::breathing::

See... I took Naia in to the lady who sold her to me. Lady transports her to the vet to get the surgery for fixing (which went well, thank the Goddess), and then brings her back to me. Lady gave me her home number, cell, work and her boyfriend's number. Well... I've been calling Lady since FRIDAY to find out where my cat is and how to get her back... and NO ANSWER. I've left messages. I finally got ahold of the boyfriend last night and he told me she was at the store. So I called - no answer, another message.

WHAT THE HELL?!?!? Where is my Naia??? I haven't seen her adorable face since Wednesday afternoon. She's probably in her cage somewhere... is she still at the vet? Is she with Lady??? WHERE IS MY CHILD??? I hate this. I fucking hate this. My baby had surgery... and I can't be there to love on her. She probably hates me... what if this distance and horrid treatment turns her from the sweetest, most loving, adorable creature into a stoic, antisocial recluse?? She's been through Hell and her mother (me) hasn't been there. But that's NOT my fault! 

I want my child back and I want her back NOW. I don't have any functioning numbers that get me to Lady though. I've left message after message. All I can do now is wait... and this frustration is festering inside, wrecking all kinds of habit. One of my worst fears if for something bad to happen to her. I lost Kaida almost 5 months ago now... and I am NOT okay with the idea of losing another child. I can't handle it. I really, really can't handle it. Every time I close my eyes, nightmares about my cat. Something happened... why aren't they returning my calls? In one nightmare, they brought me the wrong cat. In another? They told me she bit the vet and had to be put down. NO WAY. NO. 

I'm scared for my kid. I hate this. I hate being powerless to help. I don't even know WHERE this cat is... or WHERE this Lady lives. I only know her from work. I WANT MY CAT BACK NOW! At the very least... I want a phone call telling me where she is, that she's okay, and when I can come get her. This not knowing is KILLING me. Seriously. I have NEVER done well with the power-down position in life. It triggers, well, everything. 

I will call every fucking hour on the hour if I don't hear something back by ... say... 2pm. I am NOT going to bed tongiht without my Naia. I don't care if I have to call the fucking cops (okay, maybe that's going a bit far) - but seriously?!?!? WHERE IS MY CAT? Why won't Lady return my phone calls? This is NOT okay. NOT okay at all. I want my child back and I want her back like 2 days ago. I don't care WHERE she is at this point, just tell me and I"ll drive to get her. And love on her the entire way home. 

I thought nothing could be worse than getting Raven back the same day as her surgery, seeing her in so much pain, dealing with her and stitches and all that. But honestly? This IS worse. Because I can't see my child. I can't hold her. I don't even know where she is to be able to PICTURE her doing well. I'm scared for her and it's killing me inside. I want my child back NOW. Every ounce of maternal instinct is screaming... yelling... building into an absolute fury. GIVE ME MY CAT BACK!!!!!