Mommy Dearest

Today my mother said she was tired of the way I am always a burden to her. I'm not looking for pity. I don't even want you to hate her. I will get over it and we will go back to our corners.

After I told her I didn't get the job I interviewed for last week, she kind of got angry and said she would have to work until she was 90 because I couldn't get my act together. She's right about how much I need her. It's pathetic for a so-called grown-up to rely on her mother so much.

And I don't have to feel good. There is nothing that says I am supposed to be happy. I'm trying and the I feel like I am doing the best I can. I will work harder. She is the parent I have, and we have been through worse.

There isn't a lot of love between us. These days it feels more like obligation. When she is old and my brothers are too busy, I know I will be the one that takes care of her. I won't see it as a burden.

I don't ever count my mother among my blessings, and I feel like maybe I should have, and that maybe if I had this wouldn't be as bad as it is. I really do think that if I am not grateful for something that it will be taken away. It isn't healthy to say that this is my fault, but is it self-righteous to think that I have no faults in this?

A lot of this is cryptic, and someday when I can say what it is that I learned this week, well, then it might make more sense. For now I feel like a darkness has come over me. I cannot wait for the day when I can look back on this time in my life and be astounded about how I came through it all.

For now, I will make at least one step forward everyday. Baby-steps or giant leaps, as long as I am moving forward, I will be getting out of this.

What I Aint Got

I am in the bell jar. Deep in a funk that knows no bottom. Aint got no job, aint got no prospects, aint got nothing but a bitter feeling that the last 6 years have been a wash. It's when I get to this place that I start to do really dumb stuff. What kind of stuff you might ask? Well, for example...

Looking for people that I don't need to even know anymore and wondering how they are doing. Allowing myself to wax nostalgic for something that was only ever disaster.

Beginning projects that I have no way of finishing and not doing the things that need to be done like dishes and cleaning in general. If you have been to my house lately you can see evidence of either projects or undone messes in every corner.

Checking job sites and classifieds for every kind of employment that I don't need to have. It really is amazing just how many "jobs" that are adverstised are actually aimed at making the poor poorer. Anyone who is looking for a job right now should know that there is no such thing as a job that requires only 20 hours a week and promises you 6 figures a year.

If you really, really know me then you know that I have some things standing in my way between me and a job I want. I am looking for a hacksaw and a blowtorch and maybe some of those nukes in order to destroy that road block. I need connections, baby, and man oh man, I aint got those either.

Looking for some inspration, so here are some other things I aint got:
Aint got a man bringing me down
Aint got to walk in the heat
Aint alone
Aint got the kind of cancer that is going to kill me
Aint got a sick child
Aint got to worry

Sold! To the lowest bidder...

Tomorrow I have an interview for a job that I would really like to get. It is not in my field, but it is working for a 4 year institution. This is what I keep telling myself. Today, I stumbled onto this and decided I was going to have to feel a little better.

I knew on the front end that I was not going into the field where the big bucks are, but seriously? Is the conversation about the pay for English teachers going to one of things that is followed by the fact that New York garbage carriers make more? Honestly, y'all, my self-esteem can't take it.

When did it become cool to be a jerk?

Last night was wonderful. Andy's friends hosted a really cool, laid-back going-away party at their gorgeous house. Tucked away on one of those picturesque old Memphis streets in the vicinity of Rhodes, this house looks like a place where people who let the juices of life dribble down their chins live. I floated in the aura created by beautiful surroundings and incredibly nice people. The folks I met in the initial hours of the shin-dig were eager to introduce themselves, extend a hand, and talk to me about Andy and Memphis and life-stuff in general. As the night grew later, the stragglers began to arrive. Around 11 the person who I will refer to as Douche-bag arrived.

Admittedly, I judged him based on his clothing, but in such a warm and inviting surrounding, I merely expected him to be as friendly as the people I had already met. And then he said what he said. I am not the world's greatest at dialogue, but allow me to recreate.

A brief discription of the characters:
Brad - Recently defended his MA thesis. Laid-back, pseduo-rocker type. An ass to most people, but someone who grows on you after a short time. Brad has had a few beers and the words are a little slow as is the thought process.
Douche-bag - Early 20s, wearing a trucker hat, thick beard, buttoned plaid shirt, nondescript shorts, and obnoxious shoes. He is smoking and nursing the keg, barely leaving the free booze the whole time he is there.

Various chit-chat gives way to the conversation that follows. Several people took part, but the exchange between Brad and Douche-bag is especially significant.

Random person: "Does anyone have any gum?"

Brad (from his perch on the steps): "You know, Bob Dylan hated gum."

Random person: "Well, I like gum, I wish I had some, too."

Douche-bag: "Fuck Bob Dylan. I hate Bob Dylan."

Brad: "Yeah, he hated gum... (incoherent babble about why Bob hates gum).....

Douche-bag: "He's a plagiarist. He stole everything he ever sang."

Brad: "He hated gum and ...."

Douche-bag: "Yeah, I hate him because he is a plagiarist. I hate him for the same reason I hate Martin Luther King, Jr."

Group jaw-drop.


Alright. That is part one. Part two I can just give the highlights. Basically Douche-bag said something like, "You know who the least attractive girl is? The smart girl."

So here is my question with a little explanation. I don't actually believe that this guy meant all of that. I am pretty sure he did it to get a rise out of people (read females) or to get attention. What I want to know is, when did it become cool to be a jerk? Hewas obvioulsy wearing his personna, it was in his plaid shirt and his trucker hat, but his attitude seemed to be put upon as well. In a room full of wonderfully nice people, he was unique for being the jerk. It was like he had to be different and that was the only way. I am going to be on the look out for this behavior. I am hoping this is not a trend.

Friends

Friends, the real ones, are fewer and further than they ever were. This summer I am witnessing 7 people I know move on to their next phases of life while I stay where I am. There is a future blog where I will undoubtedly host a pity party for one, but for now, I will celebrate the fact that I love and am loved my some seriously wonderful people.

Andy is a guy I never anticipated liking. He was in a night class my second semester of grad school, and he was way too smart for his own good. I guess that is still true. He is book-smart, but that is not where his amazing-ness ends. Andy's faith and his search for God and his willingness to talk to me about things that I don't talk to most people about still inspire me. When I found out about the cancer, Andy was one of the first people I called. Andy is real and wonderful and prays with vehemence and faith that I hope to one day have. Knowing people like Andy helps my faith grow. Andy goes to Maryland to get his PhD and to be the hot, smart guy with an ear for music, a lean for good films, a penchant for esoteric blogging, and the guy who will always answer emails.

Mike and Liz moved to Memphis in pieces. Mike came first and we met in out first ever graduate class. He and Liz got married over fall break of that first semester and she came to Memphis, too. I always wanted to get to know Liz better, and I know that I will always regret that we weren't better friends. She is a really creative and talented artist, and I wish her the best as she starts graduate school. Mike put up with me, listened to me break down, tolerated my chattiness, offered really good advice, and when I told him that he was my best friend in Memphis, he laughed. It's still true, and yes, it's still funny. The talks, the frustrations, and the genuinely happy moments are all better because Mike was there. As I look back on those wonderful basement times, Mike is everyone of them. Mike and Liz go to Knoxville where they are homeowners, and I think that makes them grown-ups at last. Don't tell them that.

I did not like Julie when I met her. She was loud, obnoxious, and she ate extra cheesy Doritos and drank Diet Coke next to me in our Philosophy class until I wanted to choke her. A hundred tears and a million laughs later, she is the person that knew the Memphis-me better than anyone and loved me anyway. She is a wonderful soul that wears a tough-girl face and a hard shell, but underneath she is the most loving and delightful person. She cares about people even when they don't give her a reason to care. Julie goes to Florida to work on her PhD and be the girl that wanted it all and got it.

Sarah and Brian are the holders of my heart. Brian married Sarah and no one could figure out why a guy like him would marry a girl like her. I tried to describe it one of those nights before her wedding during one of mine and Sarah's marathon phone calls. I haven't ever been able to repeat what I said, but I will attempt it here. Sarah is organized, ambitious, steadfast, strong, solid. Brian is versatile, accomadating, thoughtful, trusting, soulful. They are made of the same things, but they are different at the same time. Sarah is ice and Brian is water. Alone, one thing is not enough, but when put together, they are refreshing and satisfying. My friends are ice water to my sun-drenched soul. Sarah and Brian go to Nashville where Brian will work towards becoming a nurse practitioner while working as a nurse. Sarah will teach Literature at a Davidson county school and adventurously begin law school as she looks to her next goal of being a lawyer. I don't think Nashville is big enough for the both of them. I don't think the world is either.

Life is change, and with some sadness and a lot of happiness, I am looking at these changes with joy for the journeys of all these people that I love so much. They will touch more lives than they will know, and I will be happy knowing that my life is made fuller because of them. May good luck, blessings, and friends as good as you are fall into your lives the way you all have fallen into mine!

Waves of perception

What is hope? Where does it come from? Where does it go? I know when I think I don't have it. I know when it is all that I have. I remember when I wasn't afraid of it. I remember when I started to see it as a double-edged sword.

There isn't a lot to be sure of in a world where everything changes as much as it does, but there is this stream of hope that flows nonetheless. If there wasn't hope, what would there be? I don't think there would be much at all. As much as I hate to admit it, hope is what I have when I don't even want it.

Standing beside the river of hope I can see that it sometimes flows steady and strong and it sometimes trickles as if it were almost gone. It just won't go away. Fish from it, float my paper boat in it, maybe get a canoe into it if I am that brave. I won't turn my back on it. I guess that is what I am trying to say.

Getting my life back

It's wonderful news! The cancer is located in one place, it hasn't spread, and it can be removed in one procedure. I am beside myself with happiness. Sure, it's still cancer, and it isn't the greatest thing that could ever happen, but it is all going to be gone on August 21st!

My mother hates me again, my family has stopped calling me, and everything is going back to normal. I feel like I can do what I need to do again and that is alright with me.

Nathan is at his dad's house until later this week and then he is off to camp with his friends from church. While he is gone I am doing some work in his room. I am hoping to surprise him with a new room when he gets back.

Now I am going to sit back, relax, and breathe in slow, concentrated breaths. I am going to be ok, and my life is my own again. I don't have to give it away to anything. It's mine.

Some honesty

Last night I was sitting in a meeting adn the topic had mostly to do with fear. It's a catch-22 when it all comes down to it. I have to have faith in having faith, but when I do that I can turn my fear over to God and I don't have to be afraid anymore. I'm struggling. I believe in God so that isn't where I am stuck, as far as I know. I just can't seem to pray to Him to take awy my fear. Somewhere in my head I am making this thing the onlt thing that I have and if I give it away then don't have anything anymore. Ownership of fear seems like a silly thing to want to have, but there it is.

I want my fear like oxygen and a warm blanket. Only it isn't a warm blanket. It's sticky and uncomfortable and suffocating and ridiculous to want.

My stomach hurts, my head hurts, I don't feel like I know what I am doing, and where ever I go I am always sure that it isn't the right place. I have also decided that there isn't anything in the world that will ever get my mind off this enough to make me forget that this is actually happening.